Blood Red

They seemed to be moving too much. Houses and buildings, flush against one another, a few feet away, should have been still. Instead, their shadows stretched, became too long, seemed to loom.

Then there was the breeze. She hadn’t felt it on Bourbon Street, but it was eerily noticeable now

She quickened her pace.

“Hey!” Heidi’s protest broke through her sense of isolation.

“What?” Lauren asked.

“Do we really have to run back?”

“I think we should hurry, yes,” Lauren said.

“You told me this was a safe area,” Heidi protested.

“It is. But…it’s late,” Lauren said.

“Look. Up ahead,” Deanna said.

“What?” Lauren said, her heart quickening.

“Mounted police officer,” Deanna said dryly.

“Oh.” Lauren slowed her pace a bit, as they passed the officer, who touched his helmet and wished them goodnight, then rode on toward Bourbon Street. As soon as he was gone, she started hurrying again. She couldn’t help herself.

“Lauren, slow down,” Deanna begged. “My legs aren’t working too well.”

“That’s because they want to be stretched out in bed,” Lauren said.

“You two are tall—I’m not,” Heidi reminded her.

Gritting her teeth, Lauren forced herself to slow down. She was frightened, and she didn’t know why. And she was angry. She’d never been frightened here before in her life.

It was all because of that damn fortune teller.

She made herself keep to a slower pace, but she couldn’t stop herself from watching the shadows. And no matter how hard she tried to tell herself she was being ridiculous, she was certain the shadows were doing things shadows weren’t supposed to do. She couldn’t help but feel they were watching her.

The bed and breakfast, with its lovely courtyard and cottages, was straight ahead. She had to forcibly stop herself from breaking into a run.

But then they were there and she let out a sigh, praying that it wasn’t audible. The cast iron gates, dating back to the eighteen-forties, were opened to the main manor and the old cottages surrounding it.

Theirs was the middle cottage, directly facing the pool. Lauren all but dragged her friends toward it.

“Honestly, Lauren,” Heidi began to protest.

“See, we’re here. Your stubby little legs can get a rest.”

“Stubby little legs!” Heidi objected. “Some slave you are.”

“But we’re here. Aren’t you glad?” Lauren demanded.

Deanna yawned, pulling out her key and opening the door. “Yeah, yeah, great, we’re here.” She turned around and said speculatively, “Look how good that pool looks.”

“You want to go swimming—now?” Lauren demanded.

“Well, I’m sweating—since I ran back,” Deanna said.

“We’d make a racket,” Lauren said quickly.

“No one said that we couldn’t swim at night,” Heidi said.

“We’ve all had a fair bit to drink. No one is going to save us if we begin to drown,” Lauren informed them, longing desperately to go inside and lock the door.

“She’s right, you know. We have had too much to drink,” Heidi said.

“Right,” Lauren announced. She pushed open the door fully open and turned on the light. They’d left the television on. She was glad. She was even happier to realize that it was showing a 70’s sitcom, not some creepy horror show.

“How are we sleeping?” Heidi asked. There were two double beds in the bedroom behind the kitchen/living room area where they were standing. In the outer room, the bed was a pull-out sofa.

“I’ll take the bed out here, and you two can have the real beds,” Lauren said. She would have taken a hard wooden floor at that moment, she was so relieved just to be back in their cottage.

“You sure? You can bunk in with one of us,” Deanna offered.

“You snore when you drink,” Lauren said, grinning for real at last. “I’ll be fine out here.”

“I do not snore!” Deanna protested.

“You do,” Heidi told her, grinning. “But only when you drink,” she added quickly.

“Hmph,” Deanna muttered, and started for the bedroom.

“I guess that means she’s taking first dibs on the bathroom,” Heidi said, shrugging. “I’m getting into pajamas and crashing.” She gave Lauren a hug goodnight. “Thanks—this is the best trip, ever.”