Page 16 of Extracted

What the . . . ?

Had there been a power outage?

No light streamed in through the window, and her body told her she couldn’t have been asleep for more than an hour.

A rustling sound made her dart her gaze in the direction of the door—although she couldn’t see a damn thing to indicate she was actually looking in the right direction.

Creak

Her skin puckered with goosebumps. Her heart rate pumped up a notch, and the sound was almost deafening in the quiet space. The air was charged with foreign energy. Someone was in her room. Had gotten through the lock. The power had to be out because no fluorescent light shined from the hall.

The moisture in her mouth evaporated faster than cotton candy on her tongue. Her gun was stowed in her bag, but that wouldn’t help her now. She lifted her hand to the nightstand and delicately brushed her fingers over the surface. She paused when she touched the smooth glass of her phone. Turning on the device would only draw attention to the fact that she was awake. She needed a weapon.

Her fingertips brushed the pencil.

She grabbed it in her fist and slowly shimmied out of the covers and to the floor. The door whooshed closed but didn’t slam. The intruder clearly wanted to be quiet.

Her rapid heartbeat whisked against her eardrums. Her flesh was numb. The skin on her knuckles stretched, but she wouldn’t loosen her grip on her weapon.

The scent of dust wafted from the carpet. Her knees pressed into the rough fibers beneath her. She had to make a move. She stretched her arm out to the side and rubbed the leg of the desk. If she didn’t find a way out of the traffic area, he’d trip right over her.

She scooted closer to the desk on her hands and knees. The swish of pant legs rubbing together reached her ears. A scream lodged in her throat. Yelling wouldn’t do a darn thing but alert the intruder.

Her legs burned with the desire to book it to the door. A breeze touched her cheek.

The person had walked right past her.

Oh god. Oh god.

A sharp whistle sounded.

Ice-cold terror froze her to the spot.

A silencer. He’d just fired at the bed.

Her chest expanded with an unspent scream. A flashlight clicked on and a glow lit the bed. Black-jean-clad legs stood in front of the white sheets, his back turned to her.

“Shit!”

The man threw back the covers.

The adrenaline firing through Gemma’s veins sent her surging from her hiding spot. She launched herself at his leg and slammed the pointed end of the pencil into his thigh. It sunk into thick flesh. She gave it a hard twist, and he buckled.

“Ah, fuck!”

His hand flew back, and the flashlight smacked her in the face. Pain exploded across her cheekbone. The device hit the floor and rolled under the bed. Gemma bolted to her feet. Her head spun, and she staggered back to the ground.

Crack!

Specks of drywall exploded near her head. She had to make a run for it.

Crack!

Another bullet fired quietly, but this time heat seared her thigh. She pushed herself to her knees and gasped. She had to get up, had to run before—

A hand snaked around her ankle and dragged her back. She screamed, and a fist slammed into her mouth. Her head bounced off the floor. Fire blazed through her face. The flashlight beneath the bed cast a dim yellow glow over her.

“Fucking bitch.”

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