The Overseer Read Online Free

pull. Hannah stepped onto the bottom rung and moved upward, compelled by purpose but delayed by dread.
    She lifted her head into the attic. The floor was covered in brown carpet; drenched in dust that made her cough. Hannah lifted herself into the darkness. Tiny fingers of light glowed through the slits between the boards covering the one tiny window at the far end. The hatch below her swung gently upward, pulled back into position by creaking springs.
    Her hands groped for a moment as she stood, hunched in the low space. A dangling string brushed her fingertips, and she tugged. The lightbulb snapped on from an overhead fixture, and
    she looked around.
    She thought she might never start breathing again.
    Both sides of the attic were lined with bunk beds, chicken wire surrounding them in tightly fastened grids that filled in the gaps between small metal struts. Hinged doors with padlocks locked every set of beds, making each its own tiny prison.
    Lurid underwear hung from hooks and littered the floor. Dirty clothes were piled in the corner.
    Hannah walked to one of the beds, its door hanging open, and looked in. Sitting on yellowed sheets was a ratty stuffed bear with one eye missing. She picked up the bear and looked it over as a hot tear ran down Hannah’s face as she saw the face of the girl who had clung to this bear—
    Maybe fourteen years old.
    The bear fell from her hands and hit the floor.
    Whoever these people were—she would stop them.
    Wherever the girls were that they had taken—she would find them.
    Then she heard something.

    Petroleum-scented splashes of gasoline washed across the walls and tables as Dominik slung the can in all directions. He set the can down for a moment and rummaged under the sink for a trash bag. Quickly he swept the drugs off the table into the plastic and pulled the tethers shut with a swift yank. He set the bag near the door, stuffed his cell phone between his shoulder and ear, and reached for the gas can again.
    “Hello?” a female voice said in Dominik’s native language.
    “Do you know who she is?” Dominik replied in the same language as he soaked the curtains in gasoline.
    “Who?”
    “The girl that followed me. She knew where I was and where I was going.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    Dominik sloshed more gasoline onto the living room carpet, sending a splash across the back of a ratty recliner. “Some girl—midtwenties maybe. She found me in the liquor store. She followed me. Chased me back to the house.”
    “You ran away from a girl?”
    “Shut up, Misha.” He grunted. “She came out of nowhere. She knew where I was and where I was going. She must have been watching us for days.” He moved up the stairs, spilling a trail of gas.
    “What are you going to do about it?”
    Dominik let the last drops trickle from the can, dousing a pile of sheets in the bedroom, then tossed the can into the corner. “I’m closing down the storefront.”
    “Use the gas can in the shed. Burn it down.”
    “I’ve already started.”
    “Good. Get going, and get out of there.” There was a click, and the line went dead.
    Dominik felt the lighter in his pocket as he moved toward the stairs, then stopped. A creaking in the ceiling from the attic above. He looked at the trapdoor in the ceiling, slightly ajar. Another creak and the distinct sound of footsteps overhead.
    He eyed the padlock dangling from the hatch—an overt violation of fire code if he wasn’t mistaken—but the reasons for that seemed more useful than ever.

    Hannah took another step back.
    Someone was in the house.
    They were down there, but there was no way to know for certain if they’d heard her. She wanted to get away from the hatch—away from the center of the noise she’d heard. There had been the sound of someone talking. It wasn’t English. Russian maybe.
    She herself had been kidnapped just over a year before. Nothing as hideous as this—but it had still left its mark on her—a lingering