From inside the kitchen, the landline was ringing. It was like a beacon in the dark. Without thought, I raced toward the sound, desperate to get help. Snake rushed after me as I skidded around the island just as the ringing phone cut off.
He lunged forward and I grabbed the closest thing within reach, the bowl of egg mixture. I threw it, the bowl and all, right at his face. It smacked into his chest, the mixture splattering all over him and then falling to the floor where the glass shattered.
He cursed and I grabbed the phone, skirting around his grabby hands and pressing the number for 9-1-1.
As he slid in the mess I created, I lunged around him, desperate to get to the open front door.
I almost made it.
He caught the hem of my shirt and yanked. My foot caught on some of the spilled eggs on the floor and I went flying, landing hard on my butt.
I gasped, the wind whooshing from my lungs, and my arm groaned from the impact of the fall. The phone flew out of my hand and skidded across the tile just as the operator picked up the line.
“Help!” I screamed. “Help me!”
Snake jumped on me. He looked like some kind of swamp monster with the orange-colored goop all over his face and dripping down the front of his shirt. A gun appeared in his hand, and I struggled anew, slapping at him with my free arm and kicking my legs.
He reached back and slapped me hard across the face. My cheek stung and my eyes watered from the assault. I blinked, desperately willing away the pain when he held the gun down, leveling right at my head.
“Any last words?” he said, giving me a psychotic grin.
Beneath my arm I felt the jagged edge of a piece of the shattered bowl. I wrapped my fingers around it and, with a battle cry, launched myself up and off the floor, swinging my arm around and catching him in the face.
He screamed and dropped the gun, slapping his hand over the cut, which was now oozing blood. I bucked him off and scrambled to get up, slipping a little in the mess but managing to make it to my feet.
At the same time, both of us saw the gun lying there between us. We dove at it, but he was faster, closing his hand around the barrel.
To hell with this.
I slammed the heel of my hand down on his head, knocking his forehead into the floor, and then took off running toward the front of the house.
“Taylor!” Brody bellowed, and just the sound of his voice from out in the yard was enough to make tears blur my vision.
“Brody!” I screamed, running toward the sound of his voice. “He has a gun!”
I heard some sounds behind me. I knew Snake would be taking aim in mere seconds, but I kept on running, moving as fast as my feet would let me.
Brody appeared in the doorway, his face wild with fear and his eyes like huge dark saucers. When he saw me, he burst into action, rushing into the house, reaching for me.
So close.
He was just so close.
The last thing I saw was him literally throwing himself into the air at me.
The last sound I heard was the explosion of a gun.
23
Brody
Pulling up to the house and seeing the light from the inside spill out across the front porch from the open door was scary.
Hearing her scream my name shaved about ten years off my life.
All I knew was that something bad was happening, she was covered in something wet and sticky, and the fear on her face was one of the realest things I’d ever seen.
When Snake appeared in the hallway behind her, brandishing a gun, my heart nearly stopped in my chest. I was still too far away. It seemed like the distance between us was miles.
Snake lifted the gun and pulled the trigger.
I leapt, launching myself off the floor and jumping at her.
On my way down, I wrapped my arms around her body and rolled, trying to take the impact of the fall. We hit the side of the wall and slid down. I rolled, pinning her beneath me and lifting my arm, which was also brandishing a gun.
I squeezed off two shots in rapid succession, and then the room fell into absolute silence.
Only after I saw Snake lying on the ground, twitching, did I lower my weapon. But even still, I didn’t trust him. I pushed off the floor and reached for Taylor, who was shaking uncontrollably. She was covered in something and it made me frantic.
“What happened?” I asked, running my hands all over her body, looking for bullet wounds. The shot Snake fired just moments before hit the wall just above us, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t shot her before I got here. “What the hell is all over you?”
“It’s eggs,” she said, a hysterical laugh bubbling up from her throat.
“Eggs?” I asked, glancing back at Snake, who was bleeding on the floor. He appeared to be unconscious, but I wouldn’t believe that until I walked over there and kicked him.
“I was making you French toast.” She laughed again, her body still shivering.