phone in my pocket. The thought of this possibly being the night I’m going to die enters my mind the closer I get to Janice’s house. I know I’m walking right into a trap, but there are really no alternatives. I have to do this. There’s no turning back now.
Making my way around the hedgerow that separates our houses, I run my fingers along the top of its abrasive leaves. I come to a sudden stop when I reach the beginning of the driveway. Hattie’s car is parked there. I fear the worst has happened to her.
Taking a few deep, calming breaths, I move forward. I find myself counting the steps it takes to reach the front door, trying to distract my nerves. I feel for the gun in the back of my pants, just to make sure it’s still there. The touch of the cold metal gives me a small sense of comfort.
Peering in through the little window on the front door, I can’t make out anything. It’s too dark. I take a hold of the handle and try to turn it, but it’s locked. Moving around to the side of the house by way of the wraparound porch, I stop at the door leading into the kitchen. Testing the knob, it turns, and I quietly open it. I step over the threshold and tiptoe a few feet into the kitchen, all the while staying aware of my surroundings.
The house is quiet and everything is still. I pull out the gun and hold it stiffly in my right hand, cupping my left one underneath it for stability. Feeling fortified, I head toward the foyer of the house and the main staircase. I have to restrain my gasp when I see Hattie lying at the bottom of the stairs. Her body is twisted in an awkward position.
I rush over to her side as quietly as I can and feel for a pulse. I pull back when I discover her skin is ice-cold. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s dead.
I aim the gun up the stairs before I take my first step. I try to tread softly on the old wood so as to not make them creak under the pressure. Reaching the second floor, I post up in the corner of the wall adjacent to the stairs. Janice’s room is across the hall. I notice the door is propped wide open. There’s a lamp on in the room, casting the space in the soft glow of its dim light.
My heartbeat quickens as I take a step toward her room. Passing the open door that leads into the bathroom, I quickly point the gun through the doorway while scanning the area inside. When I see no one, I continue moving to Janice’s room.
I draw in a deep, quiet breath when I feel my lungs start to burn from holding one in. Creeping forward, I enter the room and see Phoebe by the window. Her back is to me and she’s tied to a chair. Her body is limp, seeming like it’s only being held upright by the rope around her midsection. A shiver of worry runs through me when I fear she might already be gone.
Before I check on her, I do a quick visual sweep of the room with my gun in ready position. Seeing no sign of Unknown, I quickly turn to shut the door. I shriek when I unexpectedly come face to face with the red reaper mask.
The moment I raise the gun, he grabs my hands and forces me to point it into the air. It goes off and a shower of white dust from the ceiling rains down on us. He grabs my wrist and twists it back, causing the gun to fall to the ground as I cry out in pain.
His fist connects with my chin. I stagger backward, crashing into the bed. Before I can react, he tackles me. He straddles me as I try to struggle free from the chokehold he has on my neck. I pound on his chest in a frantic manner, fighting to take in air. Grabbing his hands, I attempt to pull them from around my neck, but can’t. His grip gets tighter as he shakes me back and forth.
I reach wildly around for anything to hit him with. My hand connects with something and I’m not even sure what it is, I just grab it. Thrusting it toward his head, I see that it’s an alarm