Page 103 of Long Gone

I grabbed the largest one and moved to the back door.

There wasn’t much cover in the back. When Andi and I had been little, we’d had a swing set with a clubhouse at the top, but my mother had gotten it removed shortly after Andi’s murder. I sprinted to the open garage door and hid in the shadows to the side of the opening, straining my ears for any sound from above. The floor creaked as they walked around.

I knew I should just let them do their thing and go, but I needed to know who they were working for. Still, my gun was locked up under my bed. I hated to admit it, but finding a way to detain them until Malcolm arrived seemed like my best option.

It didn’t mean I was happy about it.

I was still holding my phone, so I turned on the flashlight and started looking for anything I could use to immobilize the door to my apartment. It swung in, not out, so I couldn’t just barricade it.

Maybe I could tie the doorknob to the porch railing.

My apartment was small and there wasn’t a lot to search, so I didn’t have much time. In fact, I was surprised they were still inside. They weren’t moving around, which meant they’d either found something that had caught their interest or were coming up with a plan of action. My father didn’t have anything stored there, but my laptop was out on the table. It was password protected, and I doubted they could come up with the password. Maybe they were trying anyway.

I found a bundle of nylon rope that looked to be about ten feet long and climbed up the steps as quickly as possible. Setting my phone and the knife on the porch railing, I wrapped one end of the rope around the doorknob multiple times, tied it with multiple knots, and then wrapped the other end around the wooden porch railing multiple times and tied that off too. Just as I finished, the rope grew taut and I heard a male voice on the other side of the door say, “What’s wrong?”

“The damn door won’t open,” another man said.

I grabbed my phone and the knife and backed down a couple of stairs.

There was another hard tug. For a second, I thought the rope on the doorknob was going to slip, but it held firm.

“Why won’t it open?” the first guy asked, sounding pissed.

“Dunno, but it ain’t gonna stop me from getting out.” Several gunshots sounded, and the door seemed to explode, metal pieces flying everywhere.

I scrambled down the stairs toward the garage and hid in the shadows. If the bastards got out, I wanted to see where they went. I shoved my cell phone in my pocket but held the knife, point down, in front of me, ready to defend myself. My heart was racing, and I struggled to breathe evenly.

More gunshots rang out, then there were footfalls on the porch.

“Where the fuck are you?” the second man shouted, and I knew he wasn’t talking to his friend.

Shit. Now that detaining them wasn’t an option, I’d hoped they would run. But they obviously intended to find me and teach me a lesson.

Footsteps pounded on the steps, and two men came to a stop in the driveway, both holding handguns.

I pressed myself into the darkness as much as I could, praying they didn’t see me.

“Come on, Pinky. We need to go before the cops show up.”

“Someone locked us in there, Mike,” the other man growled. “I’m gonna make them pay.”

Pinky grabbed Mike’s coat sleeve and tugged. “The neighbors have probably called the police. We need to get out of here.”

Mike gave him some resistance, then must have realized the wisdom of his friend’s plan, because he let Pinky lead him around the side of the garage to the neighbor’s backyard.

I briefly considered going after them, but Malcolm appeared as he rounded my car in the driveway, carrying a shotgun.

“Harper?” he called out.

“In the garage,” I said, staying in the shadows. “Don’t shoot me.”

He lifted his weapon, pointing it toward the ground, and I came out.

“They ran behind the garage,” I said. “We have to catch up to them.”

“They have guns and you want to give chase with a butcher knife?” he asked in disbelief.

“You have a gun.”

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