Page 122 of Lock Every Door

I spot Marianne standing on the landing, watching. No makeup. No sunglasses. Her skin a sickly yellow.

Sixth floor.

Nick speeds up after passing Marianne. He’s in full view now. A churning blur streaking across the landing, descending almost at the same speed as the elevator.

Fifth floor.

I bend down and scoop up the stun gun, surprisingly heavy in my hand.

Fourth floor.

I press the button on the side of the stun gun, testing it. The tip sparks in a single, startling zap.

Third floor.

Nick continues to keep pace with me. I rotate in the elevator car, watching out the windows as he moves. Ten steps, landing, ten more steps.

Second floor.

I stand with my hand on the grate, ready to fling it open as soon as the elevator stops.

Lobby.

I burst out of the elevator just as Nick starts down the staircase’s final ten steps. I’ve got roughly ten feet on him. Maybe less.

I cross the lobby in frantic strides, not daring to look back. My heart pounds and my head swims and my body hurts so much that I can’t feel the stun gun in my hand or my family’s photo still tucked under my arm. My vision narrows so that all I can see is the front door ten feet from me.

Now five.

Now one.

Safety’s just on the other side of that door.

Police and pedestrians and strangers who’ll have to stop and help.

I reach the door.

I push it open.

Someone shoves me away from the door. A large, hulking presence. My vision expands, taking in his cap, his uniform, his mustache.

Charlie.

“I can’t let you leave, Jules,” he says. “I’m sorry. They promised me. They promised my daughter.”

Without thinking, I fire up the stun gun and jab it into his stomach, the tip buzzing and sparking until Charlie is doubled over, grunting in agony.

I drop the stun gun, push out the door, zoom across the sidewalk and into the street.

Charlie calls out behind me, “Jules, look out!”

Still running, I risk a glance behind me and see him still doubled over in the doorway, Nick by his side.

There’s more noise. A cacophony. The honk of a horn. The screech of tires. Someone, somewhere screams. It sounds like a siren.

Then something slams into me and I’m knocked sideways, flying out of control, hurtling into oblivion.

NOW

---