6
458words
Hope, wild and desperate, surged through me. I scrambled out from under the blanket, peering at the monitor. The lens was smeared with something red, blurring the image, but I could make out the owner standing at my door! He held a crude, homemade crossbow and was knocking.
“Viv, open up! I’ll get you to my room, it’s safer! I called the cops! They’re coming!” His voice was urgent. “It’s okay! I shot him! Got the bastard! He’s hurt bad, can’t move!”
His words were a lifeline. Strength flooded back. I scrambled up, staggering towards the door. My hand was on the security chain latch when a sudden, jarring thought hit me. Something was missing… I whirled around.
The curtain was still open. The rain-slickered man outside the window… was gone.
“Viv? Viv, you okay?” Mr. Davies pressed. “I’m coming in!”
My scalp prickled. My head throbbed. Gang operation! Gang operation!If the lookout was Mr. Davies… then there were two killers at my door! And the owner had a master key!
I blessed my own paranoia. Even with a key, he couldn’t bypass the security chain… I checked the time. Two and a half minutes until Ethan. I swallowed hard, forcing terror down. “M-Mr. Davies… just… just a sec… I’m… I was sleeping… gotta put on some clothes…” Stall!He didn’t know about the camera! He didn’t know I’d seen him outside! I just needed to stall!
Mr. Davies paused, then pounded harder. “Viv! This is no time for modesty! People are dying! OPEN THE DOOR!”
BANG! BANG! BANG!Plaster dust rained down from the frame. I stumbled back, the next realization hitting like lightning: The guy outside the window was gone!I could jump!
I stopped answering. In three strides I was at the window, grabbing the handle. It was locked! Frantically, I wrestled with the latch. It felt glued shut, immovable. No choice! I grabbed the little table and hurled it with all my might at the glass pane.
The noise inside was unmistakable.
Mr. Davies’s voice turned icy. “Viv… damaging property? That’s gonna cost you extra!”
His words merged with the sickening CRACK of wood splitting. I spun around. The bloodied tip of the scythe punched through the door panel, glinting wickedly in the low light.
I flinched, recoiling, but grabbed the table again, swinging it wildly at the window.
CRASH!
SPLINTER!
Glass shattered just as the door burst inwards. I scrambled onto the windowsill, ignoring the jagged shards.
“FREEZE!” The command cracked like a whip. I froze, halfway out. The crude crossbow was aimed directly at my head. One twitch of his finger, and it was over. I stood rigid on the sill, unable to move.
