Lucy was waiting for her downstairs, the girl rubbing her arms to keep back the cold and anxiously looking over her shoulder in the direction of Walter’s house. Apollo walked over to Allie, his nails clack-clack-clacking against the tiled floor. He rubbed his head against one of her legs, then sat down and waited.
“Did you find a phone?” she asked the girl.
Lucy shook her head. “I looked everywhere. There isn’t one in the entire place. I even turned on some lights just to be sure.”
Allie nodded. She’d told Lucy to only turn on the lights if she needed to. She didn’t think Jack was out there looking for them — the chances of him leaving Walter at this juncture was zero to none, especially with Jones out of the picture — but she didn’t want to take the chance.
The lack of phones, on the other hand, didn’t surprise her. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a landline in her own apartment. Walter didn’t have one at his home, either. All three of them used cellphones exclusively, except for when they were at work. Gorman and Smith, like most businesses, still kept landlines around.
“What about Dad?” Lucy asked.
“I’m going back there for him.”
“By yourself?”
Allie nodded. “We can’t call the cops, and I’m not sure how effective firing more bullets into the air would do. If someone was going to hear them, they would have by now. I wish we could wait for daylight, but I don’t think your dad’s going to last that long.”
“What do you mean?” When she didn’t answer fast enough, the girl said, “Allie? What do you mean he might not last that long?”
She walked over to the girl and put both hands on her thin shoulders, then squeezed them. “They showed us their faces, remember? They wouldn’t have shown us their faces if they were going to let us go after all of this is over. You, me, your dad. They need him, but only until they can get what they want from him. After that…”
The girl nodded somberly, and Allie thought, She’s so much stronger than I gave her credit for. I guess we were both hiding our true selves from one another all this time.
“Do you know why all of this is happening?” Lucy asked.
“I don’t,” Allie said. “I didn’t even know your dad made enough at Gorman and Smith to have a second house out here until he asked me to take this trip with you two.”
“He bought it three years ago…”
“How?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did he finance it? Or did he buy it with cash?”
Lucy shook her head. “I don’t know. What does that have to with anything?”
Maybe nothing, but maybe everything, she thought, but said, “I guess it doesn’t.”
“If you’re going back there for Dad, then I’m coming with you.”
“No. You’re safer waiting for me here.”
“Allie…”
“Don’t argue with me.” But Lucy looked like she was going to argue anyway, so Allie squeezed her shoulders again and put on her best forced smile. “I hate to say it, Lucy, but I’m better off doing this by myself. Well, not completely by myself,” she added, looking down at Apollo, sitting silently next to them.
“I really think I should come with you…”
“Have you ever fired a gun in your life?”
“No…”
“Shot someone?”
“No…”
“I have. I just shot Jerry. But he wasn’t the first one. And he’s not going to be the last.”
Even in the semidarkness, Allie could see all the questions swirling around behind the girl’s eyes at her statement.
“One of these days I’ll tell you all about it,” Allie said. “For now, I need you to be safe, and that means staying here.” She let go of the teenager’s shoulders. “Now, will you be all right until I come back with your father?”
“I’ll hide if anyone shows up. It’s dark, and there’s plenty of rooms. Just get Dad back, okay?”
“I will,” Allie said. Then, looking at Apollo, “Right?”
He raised his head and stuck out his tongue, licking his nose.
“What does that mean?” Lucy asked.
“That’s a yes,” Allie smiled.
Gunshots, she thought as she came to a stop somewhere halfway back to Walter’s house. Apollo did the same thing next to her, his floppy ears standing at attention.
The pop-pop-pop of a fully automatic rifle shattered the quiet. There was more than one, but the shots were overlapping and she couldn’t pick out the exact number. She only knew one thing for certain: There was a full-blown gun battle going on at the house this very moment, and Walter was in there somewhere.
Way to pick your country getaway, Walter, she thought with a wry smile. Couldn’t you have at least found one with a neighbor within earshot of a gun battle?
“Come on, boy,” she said, and started forward again.
Apollo followed without hesitation.
This is so stupid. You know that, right?
There was no reason for her to keep moving toward the house. Well, that wasn’t entirely true — there was one reason: Walter. She was voluntarily walking into a gun battle because a man she had been dating for five months was being held hostage back there.
Jesus, did she like Walter that much?
The answer was no. But she liked him enough.
Probably.
She stopped again and let out a heavy, frustrated sigh. Apollo, who had kept walking for a few steps, finally noticed she wasn’t next to him anymore and stopped, then looked back at her before cocking his head to one side, as if to ask, Now what?
She crouched and he walked back, immediately presenting his head. She scratched him on the scalp and under his chin.
“What am I doing? That’s automatic gunfire, Apollo. I must be crazy.”
Apollo’s answer was to lean in for more scratching.
“You’re no help at all.”
Then, almost as suddenly as they had broken out, the shooting just…stopped.
Apollo turned his head in the direction of Walter’s house.
“You’re getting a bad feeling about this too, huh?” she said, standing back up. “Yeah, we’ve definitely done smarter things in our lives, that’s for sure.”
She started walking again, with Apollo keeping pace next to her.
“I should have stayed out of the woods, Apollo. Nothing good ever comes from going into the woods.”
Apollo let out something that sounded almost like a regretful groan.
“I knew you’d understand.”
She picked up her pace, clutching and unclutching the gun in her hand.
Chapter 12
He’d done most of the shooting, but Monroe’s people had returned fire three times, and only when they could see him. If nothing else, they were at least disciplined enough to follow that one order Monroe had given them, even if it meant running around while he tried to pick them off from the back of the hallway.
As he settled against the wall next to the closed bedroom door, Jack took stock of his situation.
It was, in a word, shit.
He was trapped inside a house with at least four guns, all of whom wanted what (who) was in the room with him, but couldn’t give less than two cents about his hide. He wasn’t completely up a creek, though. He still had an ace in the hole: Walter, currently cowering behind the computer desk, staring at him. Once the shooting began, Walter had smartly taken cover. He’d also known better than to run out the open door and into the gunfire. Maybe the guy had some survival instincts about him after all.
The window behind Walter was still intact, the curtains pulled together to keep anyone out there from spying in. Bullets had no issue piercing glass, but it was hard to shoot if you couldn’t see your target. Not that he thought Monroe’s people would start pumping lead into the room anyway, at least not with Walter somewhere inside with him.