Page 73 of Burn Like An Angel

“You’ve lost a lot of blood. Please don’t die in my arms before settling up.” I pause to enjoy her look of surprise. “Plus I don’t want to be responsible for burying your body.”

“Ever the charmer.” Ripley rattles out a laugh. “Or should I say asshole?”

My mouth twitches in a smile. “More appropriate.”

“Where are we?” she wheezes.

“We’re going to find some help.”

“In a field?”

“You’re in no position to complain.”

Xander suddenly halts, his exhausted shoulders straightening out. He’s spotted something ahead. We’ve been passing fields of bleating livestock for at least an hour now. Perhaps we’ve finally escaped the farmland.

Barren fields have shifted to cobbled-stone pathways turn and wind-stripped fences, the grass massively overgrown. When I spot the first dated-looking structure ahead, the urge to laugh bubbles up in my chest.

“Seriously, Xan?” I call to him.

He glances over his shoulder. “You got a better idea?”

“What is it?” Raine taps his stick in a wide circle.

“Imagine the most British holiday you can think of.”

“Uh… pass.” He chuckles to himself. “My parents were a bit too concerned about shooting up to take me on holiday.”

We’re approaching a run-down resort, the front gates leading to rows of retro mobile homes. The place appears to be deserted in the late spring sunshine. We stop in front of the peeling welcome sign.

Golden Oaks Holiday Park.

Open July through November.

“Anyone against a little breaking and entering?” Xander asks after finding the gate locked.

There are no complaints.

“Good. Keep watch.”

He pokes around the entrance, locating a loose, round stone on the roadside. Xander returns to the gate, contemplating for a moment before slamming the stone into the rusted padlock.

After three hits, the busted lock hits the ground. He pulls off the chain, allowing the gates to creak open. We all shuffle forward, tentatively entering the desolate park.

“Does this place look as spooky as it feels?” Raine whistles.

Squeezing Ripley close, my head swivels from side to side. “Pretty much.”

“Kinda glad I can’t see it, in that case.”

Surveying the vacant homes, Xander guides us to the very back of the resort. The silence is fucking eery.

“This will do,” he decides, gesturing ahead.

Shaded, net curtains hide the interior of the mobile home he’s chosen. The garden is a wild jungle, indicating the months of closure during off-season.

“I’ll see if there’s a park office or something. They must have first-aid supplies. Can you get us in, Nox?”

“Leave it to me.”

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