Read Salby (Book 2): Salby Evolution for Free Online Page A

comparison to his.
    Instantly I crouched once more. Whoever, or whatever did that to him would need to have been powerful. Mike wasn’t a small man. I held my breath and parted my lips slightly to allow me to hear as much as possible, yet no sound came to me.
    I slowly edged back the way I’d come, back towards the long iron monkey bar that caught my attention earlier.
    With it firmly in my grasp, I rounded the opposite end of the aisle, away from Mike, towards the bedroom furniture section of the store.
    This wasn’t good, not good at all.
    My casual shoes squealed an introduction on the laminate flooring, even though I did my best to limit the sound as much as possible. A noise to my right snapped my head around, cocked towards a chunky oak, double-door wardrobe. As I edged closer to it, I used the tip of the iron bar to tap the doors.
    “You’d best come out of there really slowly or so help me, I’ll crack your head.” I warned.
    No movement, just a muffled whimper met my warning.
    “I’ll not ask again. Come out, or by God, you’ll wish you had.” I swallowed the courage back down hard to prevent it from escaping me. The tip of the bar shook as I raised it in preparation, and, holding it high over my head ready to strike, I grabbed at the turned knob and yanked the door wide. My actions prompted a loud, shrill scream of sheer panic, though not from me.
    “Ahhhheeeeeeee! Don’t hurt me! Please don’t hurt me! Are you one of them? Please, please—” the petrified woman cried. She cowered in the corner of the unopened side of the wardrobe, her hands shook about her face as she sobbed through her panic.
    What could I do?
    “Hey, hey, easy now. It’s okay. Look, I’ll put the bar down. I’m not going to hurt you, see. What do you mean by ‘one of them,’ one of who?” I asked, in an attempt to get the woman to calm herself and talk to me.
    She spread her fingers to look me in the eye. Seconds ticked by before she pushed open the door, carefully pulling herself out and up, though she shied away from my extended hand.
    “My name’s Simon,” I blabbed, not really knowing how else to react to her.
    “I—I’m Barbara, though my friends call me Barbie, that’s if I have any friends left,” she added, amid shuddered sobs.
    “Barbie, it is. You’re okay now. What happened here? How long have you been in there?” My questions came too fast for her and I could see her beginning to panic at her own recall. “Okay, forget it for now. We need to get out of here, away from this place, somewhere safe we can talk. Okay? Can you walk?” I asked.
    She nodded.
    I appraised her and could see why her shortened name was appropriate. I estimated that Barbie was in her late twenties, with a figure to match that of the plastic doll of her namesake—even in the dowdy store uniform. Long, golden hair flowed to at least the top of her shapely bottom. She edged towards me, still cautious, and I couldn’t blame her.
    I glanced at my reflection in a mirrored wall panel to my left. My face was bloodied from the appointment with the tarmac earlier, my once clean jeans now had patches of muck and mud smeared everywhere, and an open tear in my T-shirt revealed a long, thin, angry-looking scratch to my side.
    “I look a mess, sorry. We need to move,” I stated, lowering my gaze.
    “It’s okay. Where will we go?”
    “Somewhere safe. Away from potentially crowded places. I need you to tell me what you know, what you’ve seen and heard,” I urged.
    “I can’t leave the store. The manager will fire me,” she panicked, still in shock it seemed.
    “Oh, you mean Mike? He’s not going to give a shit, Barbie. Trust me on this,” I reassured her. I bent to pick up the iron bar and adjust the backpack, ready to move. “Stay close to me, keep your eyes peeled and if you see anything move, you sing out. You hear me?”
    “Yes. Did the manager leave?”
    “Yes, Barbie. He left a while back. Don’t worry about him,