CHAPTER 33 MATT

33

Matt

MATT HADN'T IMAGINED THAT— someone moaned.

He thumbed the leather strap on his holster and noiselessly withdrew his service weapon. With his finger resting on the trigger guard, he held the gun at his side and listened.

The room had gone quiet.

The harsh chemicals lofting through the air were giving him a headache, making him dizzy. The cold air didn't help. Only a few minutes ago, it was a dull throb behind his temples, but it was quickly growing worse. He'd gotten migraines in the past, and this was well on its way. Today of all days, exactly what he needed.

He tried to will it away, and heard another groan.

Faint.

Eyes open.

The bright lights felt like a smack in the face.

Matt cleared his throat. "Ger? That you?"

No reply.

This is an old building , his mind muttered. Probably just the pipes.

Then he heard it again.

Deep, guttural. Louder this time.

Not the pipes.

Without raising his weapon, Matt turned toward the sound and found himself facing the wall of lockers.