Amelia landed belly down on something soft. A body. She was laying amongst bloodied corpses on the floor. Martin Kranski collapsed beside her with the back of his head wet with blood. Amelia closed her eyes and screamed for her mom.
A hand reached through the veil of smoke and grasped her forearm. In one firm tug, it pulled her from the tangled mass of bodies.Amelia slid across the blood-slicked floor but contorted in a desperate bid to regain her feet. When she did, the horde swept her up again as it crushed toward the foyer where men in black suits fired into the crowd.
A violent tangle ensued as half the crowd turned to flee from the foyer and the other half still plowed toward the front door.
A man yanked Amelia in front of him as a shield. She ducked as a bullet whizzed over her head and lodged in his throat.
“Amelia!”
Her eyes snapped to the sound of her name and Brian fighting his way through the crowd. His hand latched with hers. “Out the back!”
They ran through the great room where flames spread with blistering heat and billowed sooty plumes. In the kitchen, the desperate dying cried for help. On his knees, a man clawed at his throat and tried to speak. Nothing came, only blood oozing between his fingers.
“My mom! Where is she?” Amelia shouted as gunfire tore towards them and smoke rolled into the kitchen. Between the bullets and the blaze, they didn’t have much time.
Brian shook his head and licked blood from his lip. “I don’t know. I ran. I just ran.”
“I have to find her,” Amelia pled and tried to free her hand, but Brian squeezed hard and yanked her toward the back door.
“Amelia! We have to go.”
“No!” she screamed and wrenched her hand away a moment too late.
Behind them, glass crunched.
Amelia whipped around. Emory approached with a gun drawn and trained on her. A spray of blood stained his cheek, and he looked every bit the brutal monster his reputation painted him to be.
Before she could run, he closed the distance, and his fingers clamped hard as a vise around her arm. Amelia writhed in his grasp, kicking and screaming as he tightened his hold. Herfingernails cut into his forearm, and her elbow rammed into his stomach.
Emory groaned, and she slipped from his grasp, but only managed two wobbling steps before tumbling to the floor. He was on top of her quicker than she could’ve imagined and tried to pull her up, but Amelia flailed, kicked, threw fists. Her knees and palms slipped against the tiles slick with blood.
Before she could crawl away, Emory flipped Amelia to her back. He sat on her legs and pinned her arms over her head. Amelia squirmed beneath him and whimpered as glass dug into her skin.
“Please! Please, don’t!” she cried.
“Stop, or I’ll kill you.” Emory pressed the gun to her forehead and squeezed her wrists. Amelia froze, paralyzed by the fury in his eyes and the cold metal meeting her skin. “Get up,” he commanded as smoke filled the room.
In the haze, Brian glided toward them with a paring knife and swung as Emory shifted his weight. The blade sliced his back. With a groan, Emory gnashed his teeth and Amelia freed her legs from beneath him. She stumbled to her feet and fled with Brian out the back door.
Outside, rain lashed her face, and the squall howled in her ears. Wet earth filled her shoes as they sprinted through the gardens, wove through shrubs and trees, trampled over flower beds.
What was it that bid her to look back? Gruesome curiosity. Panic and fear. Emory. Surely, he’d be coming after them. Amelia turned to look, but he wasn’t there, and the gunfire slackened as she and Brian ran down the hill and slipped through a small break in the fence.
They hurried across his yard and through his back door to the kitchen. Soaked and shaking, Brian slumped against the wall, and Amelia huddled next to him. His mouth opened and closed, but only heaving breaths spilled out.
Bursts of lightning lit up the dark. A clap of thunder soonfollowed, but a handful of sounds went missing—a yapping bark and scampers across the tile floor.
“Where’s Minnie?” Amelia whispered.
Footsteps creaked above. Someone was there.
“Your parents?”
Panic pooled in Brian’s eyes that locked to the ceiling. He shook his head.
“Let’s go,” he mouthed.
In quiet movements, he freed his keys from his pocket, but they slipped from his clumsy fingers and hit the floor. The pacing above abruptly bounded for the stairs.
