THUNK.
All at once the lights went out. Every last one of them.
Great. Just great!
I stiffened in the darkness, trying to keep myself together as an icy fear crept over me. I was alone. Sitting in the pitch blackness…
It’s probably a blown fuse. Or a tripped breaker.
The thought gave me a little bit of courage. I even got up. Then again, I didn’t even know where the breaker box was. Probably the basement. And there was no way in hell I was going down there alone.
Or more likely a power outage. There is a storm outside, you know.
That would be even worse. I’d have to sit here in the darkness, alone and afraid. Waiting for the lights to come back on.
Get it together, Sammara. You’re stronger than this.
Slowly my eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering in through the windows. It wasn’t much — almost nothing, really. But as soon as I could make out the obstacles in my way, I started walking.
My phone was in the kitchen. I could use it as a flashlight… maybe start looking for candles, or even a real flashlight.
CLINK!
I froze. A noise floated in from the foyer. I recognized it immediately, and my heart began pounding out of my chest.
It was the high-pitched, almost musical tinkle… of breaking glass.
Forty-Two
SAMMARA
Slowly I crept back into the kitchen. I could hear the rain now, much louder than before. As if a window was open… or broken.
Sammara, hide!
It was my first instinct, my gut reaction. I knew I should’ve went with it, but there was also a battle going on in my head. The battle of someone terror-stricken and helpless, hiding, trembling, versus the strong, smart woman who was padding silently through the house right now.
I was trying to tell myself the whole time that I could be brave. That it was only the storm, or maybe a branch had broken. Maybe the wind had knocked the bough of a tree through a window, and that’s all it was. It made sense. It was logical. I wanted to believe it.
Instead I peered around the corner… and my breath caught in my throat.
The front door was wide open. One of the crystal-paned sidelights had been smashed inward, and there was broken glass scattered across the floor. But that’s not all that was on the floor.
Hide… NOW!
There was also water… and watery footprints.
I backed up and started looking for a weapon. The knives were on the other side of the kitchen. I could make it if I ran, but I’d also make noise. Right now my ears were turned up, my head cocked sideways, listening for anything. Were those footsteps? From the parlor, or the living room, or…
Someone was moving, possibly toward me, in my direction. I wanted to scream. I wanted to rush into the kitchen and grab my phone. Maybe I could dial 911 in time. Maybe I could make it all the way through to the rear of the house. Out the back door, onto the veranda and—
“OH!”
I clamped my hand over my mouth, but it was already too late.
There was a man standing in the kitchen.
He was extraordinarily tall. Thin and lanky and menacing-looking, even though I couldn’t see his face. All I could see was his shadow, silhouetted against the scant amount of light filtering in through the kitchen’s rear windows.