Chapter 6

Drew palmed his gun and aimed the business end at the vertical blinds covering the sliding doors to the backyard. So much for the golden plan to shelter in place. They’d been here less than an hour and already invaders wanted in the house. He wished that thin plate of glass was bulletproof. Then again, shit ran downstream and he always stood in a gully. He thumbed off the safety. “Marcus, if you don’t feel up to killing something, give the gun to Rosa.”

She already had one kill under her belt.

What was one more face to add to the night terrors? They would both find out tonight. His body count was up to five, might as well make it an even half-dozen. Drew steadied the gun.

“Um…” Marcus cleared his throat. “I left the gun in the bathroom when I showered.”

A fist banged on the glass, rattling it. “Open the fucking door.”

Drew’s eyes twitched. “Smooth move, Einstein.”

With a brain that big, he’d thought there’d be room for common sense. Guess, he was wrong. At least, Einstein wasn’t holding a gun. The golden plan called for sports equipment to be turned into deadly weapons. He glanced over his shoulder.

Everyone at the table played at statues.

Drew swore under his breath. “What are you? Amateurs on opening night?  Shake a leg before someone breaks it.”

Ellen blinked. “Kids. Bathroom. Now.”

She set a hand on her daughter’s shoulder, steering her, then her brother behind the gaggle of teenagers heading down the hall.

Good. She would have access to the gun. If the invaders got past Drew, she might be able to finish off the rest of them.

The older couple headed for the garage. Drew hoped they had deadly sporting equipment on their shopping list.

“Geez, diva much.” Standing by the kitchen island, Rosa pulled a large knife from the block and handed it to Marcus. She rose on tiptoe and pulled a large cast-iron skillet from the rack overhead.

Drew cocked an eyebrow. “You planning to cook ’em an omelet, science chick?”

She tossed her head, brown hair slapping her shoulders. “It worked for Disney.”

“And so did all the furry forest creatures, Cinder-scientist. That don’t make it real.” So much for the family being immune to the crazy. Drew crept closer to the blinds. If he were smart, he’d pull back the blinds and shoot through the glass door to the invader on the other side.

But then he’d have to repair a door, and a trip to the local HoDee’s just wasn’t on his list of stupid-ass things to do.

He adjusted his hold on the gun. “Ready?”

Rosa scrambled onto the granite counter near the door and raised her skillet above her head. “Ready.”

Marcus cut the air with his knife, then hunched down like a defensive lineman preparing to tackle. “Ready.”

Definitely amateur night. Still, it was better than facing a jacked-up dealer in a dark alley. Drew yanked on the cord to the vertical blinds. The top of the white slats jerked to the left while the bottom fishtailed to the right.

A large black man filled the view. Blood marred his bald scalp. Raw skin dotted his cheek.

Drew’s ribs bound his lungs in a tight cage. Holy shit! Were hallucinations part of the crazy?

“Open the fucking door, Whiteangel, so I can kick your ass.”