Grave-Cargo-122

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ears,	like	something	brushing	over	the	floor.
Muscles	 tight	 and	 spine	 lined	 with	 sweat,	 I	 put	 my	 back	 to	 the	 doubtful
protection	of	the	wall	and	stepped	into	the	inky	depths	of	the	kitchen.	I	only	got
a	 few	 steps	 in	 before	 my	 hip	 hit	 something	 hard	 enough	 to	 bruise.	 Feeling
around	with	 the	cautiousness	of	 the	blind,	 I	discovered	 the	cool	metal	 edge	of
what	felt	like	a	huge	sink	to	my	left.	Keeping	one	hand	on	the	sink’s	edge,	I	tried
to	make	out	the	rest	of	the	space.	I	was	fairly	sure	a	counter	lined	the	wall	to	my
right,	while	a	long	rectangular	island	divided	the	room.	Just	beyond	that,	against
the	far	wall,	large	shapes	hovered	from	the	ceiling.	The	dull	glint	of	metal	made
me	think	oven	hoods,	despite	the	blank	spots	sitting	beneath	them.	Not	terribly
familiar	with	 industrial	kitchens,	 I	 figured	 the	 three	 lighter	patches	of	darkness
on	 the	 back	 walls	 probably	 belonged	 to	 walk-in	 compartments.	 The	 pull	 of
magic	was	insistent	now,	and	I	had	to	consciously	hold	back	from	letting	it	pull
me	forward.	Yet	all	I	could	see	was	shadows.	Well,	shadows	and	that	island.
I	 shifted	 around	 the	 sink	 so	 I	 could	 see	what	 lay	 on	 the	 other	 side	 of	 the
island,	 then	 I	blinked,	wondering	 if	my	eyes	were	playing	 tricks.	Nope.	 It	was
still	there.	A	thin,	faint	ribbon	of	light	trickled	from	under	the	doors	of	one	of	the
walk-ins.	Of	course,	it	had	to	be	the	one	in	the	far	corner.	A	mix	of	anticipation
and	wariness	hardened	the	magical	shell	covering	my	skin	as	I	inched	forward.
With	 every	 step,	 the	 thread	 of	magic	 tightened,	 confirming	 I	was	 on	 the	 right
track.	As	I	got	closer,	the	lighter	shadows	resolved	into	the	dull	gleam	of	a	metal
door.	Swallowing	the	sour	taste	of	dread,	I	tried	not	to	think	about	what	waited
inside.
By	 the	 time	I	was	close	enough	 to	 touch	 the	door,	 the	magical	pull	was	so
strong,	 the	 pressure	 of	 it	made	my	 teeth	 ache.	Unfortunately,	 I	was	 also	 close
enough	 to	 see	 the	 door	wasn’t	 fully	 closed,	 hence	 the	 escaping	 light.	 I	wasn’t
sure	if	that	was	a	good	sign	or	a	bad	one,	but	I	was	about	to	find	out.
Since	 the	 door	 opened	 out,	 I	 had	 no	 choice	 but	 to	 move	 away	 from	 the
questionable	 protection	 of	 the	 wall	 and	 grab	 the	 handle.	With	 the	 gun	 in	 one
hand	 and	 the	 door	 in	 the	 other,	 I	 pulled	 it	 open.	 The	 luminescent	 flash	 was
bright,	leaving	me	blind.