Chapter 16: Hex
"Stay right behind me," Quinn whispered, his voice barely a breath. "Whatever happens, don’t make a sound."
Lily nodded, her small hand gripping the back of his jeans.
He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the unknown, and then stepped out from the cover of the bookstore doorway. He moved slowly into the middle of the empty street, his hands raised to his shoulders to show they were empty. The iron poker was still strapped to his back, but he made no move for it.
"Hello?" he called out, his voice feeling unnaturally loud in the silence. "Is anyone there? We’re survivors. We’re not infected."
He waited. The only answer was the faint, mournful whistle of the wind blowing through a broken traffic light. The flickering light in the window high above continued its silent, rhythmic pulse. On, off. On, off.
"My name is Quinn," he tried again, projecting his voice towards the barricade of cars and junk. "I have a child with me. She’s six years old. We’re looking for shelter."
Silence. He was about to call out a third time when a voice, sharp and clear, cut through the night. It came from a small, grated opening in the barricade near the ground, a dark spot he had not noticed before.
"That’s far enough."
The voice was calm, steady, and held an unmistakable edge of authority. Quinn stopped immediately.