Another crack sounds, this time close enough to rattle the small window nearby.
Fear turns to horror.
Did Caleb get shot? Is he out there, hurt? Bleeding?Dying?And I’m still hiding inside like a coward?
No.
I won’t. Not anymore.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I’m out from under the table and moving. As I race across thebasement, I shove the phone in my pocket and shift the gun to my right hand. It feels strange, like it doesn’t belong there.
Could I fire it, if I have to?
I’m not sure. But I would try.
At the top of the stairs, it takes several tries to unlock the deadbolt, my hand is shaking so badly. Once I slide the bolt back—finally—I cautiously open the door and poke my head through the doorway.
No one’s there. The kitchen looks just as it was before.
In the living room, the TV displays a selection of movies that the streaming service thinks we might enjoy after the one we just watched. The plates and glasses are still sitting on the coffee table, undisturbed. The throw blanket I started out using before deciding to cuddle with Caleb instead is still in a messy pile on the couch, just where I left it.
The only difference from before is the hole in the window and the bit of glass sparkling on the floor in front of it.
My heart stalls at the realization of how close one of us came to dying.
Could still die,I remind myself.Caleb’s still in danger. And until backup arrives, I’m all he’s got.
In my haste to leave the basement, I didn’t come up with an actual plan. The best I have is to get outside, creep along the exterior of the house where I hopefully can’t be seen, and keep an eye out for any sign of movement from the shooter.
Then what?
Warn Caleb? Shoot the person myself? I’m not sure. But now that I’ve set my mind to it, I’m not going back.
As I shove on the moccasins Caleb loaned me—they’re his mom’s, and a size too big, but they’re better than nothing—I allow a brief consideration for the danger I’m putting myself in. In the basement, the risk is significantly less. But heading outside?
I shake my head against the doubts as I carefully open the front door.
I can do this. I have to do this.
Caleb risked his life to protect me. It’s only right I do the same for him.
But it’s not just that, is it? I’m not doing this because I feel like I owe him.
No, I realize as I creep around the side of the house. I want a future with Caleb. Or at least, I want the possibility of one.
And I don’t want him to be alone. Not anymore.
I try to move carefully through the snow, but the crunch of the snow has me wincing every time I hear it.It’s only loud because I’m right here,I tell myself.If someone’s hiding in the woods that surround the house, they’re much too far away to notice.
At least, Ithinkthat’s where someone would be hiding. Unless they’re creeping around the house, same as me, and when I turn the corner, I’ll come face to face?—
Off to my right, not quite in the woods, but close to it, I catch a glimpse of a dark shape moving across the snow.
I hold my breath as I watch them.
I don’t think it’s Caleb. The figure is too short. Too slender.
Could it be the gunman? Trying to sneak up on Caleb?
