The guy with the shotgun stepped into the kitchen, just waltzed inside as if he didn’t have a care in the world. That changed instantly when he saw her with the gun trained on him. His mouth opened, his eyes widened and then he reacted. He seemed to move in slow motion when he started to lower the muzzle of the shotgun toward her. His mouth compressed into a tight line of determination to shoot but Ellie pulled the trigger first. The sound deafened her when the weapon fired.
He threw himself back into the dining room and disappeared from sight. The shotgun poked around the wall and he fired it but it ended up hitting the ceiling somewhere behind Ellie. Something soft that reminded her of snow rained down over her head. She screamed in reaction and fired at the wall he hid behind, next to the arch.
She wasn’t sure if she’d hit the bastard or not but she hoped so. She realized she must not have hurt him when the shotgun barrel extended again. He blindly pointed it her way as he pulled the trigger. The cabinet near Ellie blew to pieces. She threw her body to the floor, almost right on top of the dead guy.
She slipped on thick, wet blood when she tried to push up from the tile. Her knees skated in the slick substance, she gasped, and her hands shot out from under her. She slammed down onto her stomach with a grunt. She had to roll to get away from the blood staining the floor.
She saw movement from the corner of her eye and twisted toward the motion. The guy with the shotgun rushed her, ran right at the island. She pointed the gun and fired while lying on her side. He ducked behind the other side of the counter and slammed into the cabinets with a loud crack as the thin wood took the impact of his body.
“Drop the gun, you bitch,” he demanded. “And I won’t torture you before I blow your fucking head off.”
Ellie’s terrified stare fixed on the cabinet he’d hit with his last gunshot blast, proof of its destructive force. The wood had a fist-sized hole in it and bits of it had exploded on impact to scatter across the tile floor. She took a deep breath, realized she had to get away and find somewhere new to hide. What she really needed, she decided, was for the son of a bitch with the shotgun to shoot himself.
“Ellie? We hear gunfire on the coms. Are you all right?”
“Ellie?” He snickered behind the island but he’d given away his location. “What kind of stupid name is that for an animal to get?”
Ellie eased open the cabinet door. He had to be right behind it on the other side. She peered inside and took aim.
“I’m going to fucking kill you slow for what you did to Eddie.”
Ellie pulled the trigger and fired in his general direction until the gun clicked, empty after a few bullets tore through the wood. Ellie spun away in case he returned fire and crawled to the far left. The gun would be useless except as something to pitch at him.
Silence met her ears while she strained to hear anything. She hesitated at the corner to peek around the island, her heart pounding. A groan sounded from the other side of the island.
Had she hit him? She couldn’t be that lucky. She crawled forward on her hands and knees. The dead man’s sticky blood covered her hands, making it a slippery action. She inched forward, terrified, but knew there were two other men who could show up at any time, drawn by the gunfire. If she stayed put they’d definitely kill her.
The guy with the shotgun had to be messing with her, perhaps playing hurt to get her to stick her head out so he could shoot her. She had a bad feeling until she saw blood flowing across the floor along the grout line.
Ellie held her breath and then took the chance to stick her head out and glance at the side of the island. His body sat leaning against it. The shotgun rested on the floor next to his legs while he stared straight ahead toward the dining room. He blinked. Blood covered his chest and ran down his left arm, revealing that she’d hit him at least once. She continued to watch him.
“Buck?” A man’s voice called from the living room. “Eddie?”
She sprang to her feet and sprinted for the dining room. If Buck was the guy with the shotgun, she prayed he wouldn’t have the time or the ability, with his injuries, to grab his weapon to shoot her as she dashed away. She made it out of the kitchen without getting shot in the back.
The safest place would be the library. If she could make it there without getting caught she had a chance to barricade herself inside. Heavy furniture filled the large room. She could shove it into place to block the double doors. With that new plan in mind, she made a mad dash for it. A man swore as she darted past an open doorway to one of the rooms. She knew he’d seen her and ran faster. All the other downstairs rooms were too open or had limited ways to seal off sections.
Ellie made it to the library and slammed the door closed. She leaned against the wood, heard the guy following right on her heels. She had no time to grab furniture after all. She panted, totally out of breath, looked down and grimaced at the sight of her hands, arms, and her shirt covered with blood.
“This way,” a man yelled. “She’s in here.”
“Buck and Eddie are dead,” a man screamed. “She fucking killed them. That animal bitch killed them both.”
One of the men tried to open the door. Ellie screamed and shoved back with all the strength she had. She heard a vicious curse and then someone slammed hard enough into it that the impact shoved her a few inches from the hard surface her back pressed so tightly. She frantically searched for something she could reach with her foot to drag over to help block the door but she had no such luck.
Both men slammed their combined weight against the door. The force was hard enough to send Ellie flying away from it. She hit one of the couches, slid over the side of it and tumbled to the floor behind it. She clawed frantically at the carpet to find purchase to get back to her feet.
