“I do, I do.” His voice is impassive, freed from the passion from before. “That’s what I came here to do and there’s no turning back. I can’t buy my way out of this like a Blackthorn.”
That’s it then.
The only question is if I die with Kane.
Then the storm door flies open, tossing in the wind.
Lee whips around, gun swinging at the opening.
There’s nothing there.
Just indifferent rain and churning grey clouds and the dull growl of thunder, though the rain looks lighter than before. A faint patter on the steps rather than a death drum.
I press a hand against my chest, trying to breathe.
“Who’s there?” Lee calls, unsure, inching closer to the stairs. He has the gun in both hands now, trained at the patch of restless sky.
The dim light shows off my grandmother’s statue, and I stare at it, grounding myself and trying to breathe.
Lee stays preoccupied with whoever lifted the door.
Someone must’ve yanked it open.
There’s a reason this is a storm shelter. It might be old with rusted hinges, but no wind short of a nor’easter is hauling one of those heavy doors open.
“I’m warning you!” Lee barks at the sky. “I’m armed and I’m not afraid to shoot.”
Come on, think.
Think while he’s distracted.
Could I even lift the statue? What about a lump of little shoes? Or would Lee notice and shoot me first?
A real possibility, but I can’t just stand here.
Especially if Kane’s up there, unarmed.
I can’t bear it if rescuing me gets him shot and killed.
Ihaveto try.
So I peel away from the wall slowly, slinking toward the worktable as Lee treads up the stairs carefully. He’s too high to see me now without looking down, all his attention fixed on whatever’s waiting outside.
But what if it’s not Kane?
The Babins probably aren’t dead.
Lee beaned Viola on the head pretty bad, but how long will she be conked out? Maybe she’s already back on the prowl, lurking with her club and a thirst for revenge.
God, I hope not.
I’m done with this monster of the week thing tonight.
Also, I don’t want her to die, even if she’s an awful, deranged woman.
Lee reaches the top of the stairs and pokes his head up into the night.
I’m closing in, ready to reach for the statue and test its massive weight, when a hammer flies past him and clatters down the stairs, breaking off a chunk of concrete.
