bathroom’s nooks and crannies, illuminating the beaded board paneling and bouncing off the newly shined chrome. Pausing briefly to inspect the trash, it finally landed on her shoestring.
A swarm of spots danced at the edge of her vision, but no way did Sadie dare to breathe.
As she braced for the inevitable confrontation, prepared to kick the intruder as hard as she could, another voice – another male voice – echoed up the stairs, making her entire nervous system go completely haywire.
There were two of them in the house.
Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God .
“What?” said the man in the bathroom, and Sadie jolted so hard she tasted blood. The work boots started moving in the direction of the bedroom, the man calling “Hey, I think somebody’s been cleaning in here,” as he lumbered down the stairs, voice growing less and less distinct. She could detect only jumbled words and phrases like “told you we shouldn’t have waited” and “better hope we find…”
Sadie started breathing again, fast and short bursts of air that did little to alleviate her panic or provide oxygen to her terror-fuzzed brain. She needed to get out of there. These men – whoever they were – were apparently after something they believed to be here, and were likely planning to search the house from top to bottom until they found it.
It was only a matter of time until they found her instead.
Knowing what she had to do and that she had very little time in which to do it, Sadie forced, through sheer will, her paralyzed limbs to do her bidding. Climbing out of her hidey-hole was probably the most difficult thing she’d ever done, but somehow her jellied legs began moving. She thrust her body forward, dizzy with fear, and turned to the window beside the vanity. Rain ran in rivulets down the metal roof, and she swallowed hard at the thought of climbing out there. Heights were a serious weakness with her, but compared with rape and/or murder there was really no contest. She released the latch which held the shutters together and eased open the lock.
It had probably been fifteen years since this window had been opened, and she prayed that it wasn’t swollen or painted shut.
Grabbing the sash with shaking fingers, she gave it a mighty shove.
Nothing. It hadn’t moved a single inch. Panic driving her actions now, she quickly readjusted her grip. Come on, come on, come on…
Exerting herself till she was red in the face, the old wood finally creaked and groaned as it gave in with great resistance. Cold rain pounded through the small opening, slicking her already clumsy fingers. The sounds of the storm grew louder in the room until they drowned out the noises still coming from downstairs. She pushed and shoved, swallowing her grunts of effort as best she could, finally creating enough of an opening that she could wedge her shoulder beneath it. Then she bent her knees into a deep squat and pushed with all her might.
The window squealed, and started moving.
Sadie sagged against the sill with relief.
Until she caught the reflection of light beneath the doorway, and realized the man with the flashlight was coming back upstairs.
“Shit,” she breathed, pushing frantically, growing soaked. The wind-driven rain felt like fingers of ice clawing at her skin. She finally had the sash open to the point that she could just wiggle herself underneath it, and she virtually dove through, head first. The pocket of her jeans caught a loose nail, hanging her up briefly, until she heard a mighty rip. The nail tore through the pocket, gouging into her butt, moments before she landed hard on the roof.
Where she promptly started sliding, rolling like a log straight toward the bottom.
“No!” Sadie grabbed the wet metal seams, seeking purchase with frantic fingers. But the roof retained all the tactile qualities of an eel and all she managed to do was shred her skin. Blood mixed with the running water to form
A swarm of spots danced at the edge of her vision, but no way did Sadie dare to breathe.
As she braced for the inevitable confrontation, prepared to kick the intruder as hard as she could, another voice – another male voice – echoed up the stairs, making her entire nervous system go completely haywire.
There were two of them in the house.
Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God .
“What?” said the man in the bathroom, and Sadie jolted so hard she tasted blood. The work boots started moving in the direction of the bedroom, the man calling “Hey, I think somebody’s been cleaning in here,” as he lumbered down the stairs, voice growing less and less distinct. She could detect only jumbled words and phrases like “told you we shouldn’t have waited” and “better hope we find…”
Sadie started breathing again, fast and short bursts of air that did little to alleviate her panic or provide oxygen to her terror-fuzzed brain. She needed to get out of there. These men – whoever they were – were apparently after something they believed to be here, and were likely planning to search the house from top to bottom until they found it.
It was only a matter of time until they found her instead.
Knowing what she had to do and that she had very little time in which to do it, Sadie forced, through sheer will, her paralyzed limbs to do her bidding. Climbing out of her hidey-hole was probably the most difficult thing she’d ever done, but somehow her jellied legs began moving. She thrust her body forward, dizzy with fear, and turned to the window beside the vanity. Rain ran in rivulets down the metal roof, and she swallowed hard at the thought of climbing out there. Heights were a serious weakness with her, but compared with rape and/or murder there was really no contest. She released the latch which held the shutters together and eased open the lock.
It had probably been fifteen years since this window had been opened, and she prayed that it wasn’t swollen or painted shut.
Grabbing the sash with shaking fingers, she gave it a mighty shove.
Nothing. It hadn’t moved a single inch. Panic driving her actions now, she quickly readjusted her grip. Come on, come on, come on…
Exerting herself till she was red in the face, the old wood finally creaked and groaned as it gave in with great resistance. Cold rain pounded through the small opening, slicking her already clumsy fingers. The sounds of the storm grew louder in the room until they drowned out the noises still coming from downstairs. She pushed and shoved, swallowing her grunts of effort as best she could, finally creating enough of an opening that she could wedge her shoulder beneath it. Then she bent her knees into a deep squat and pushed with all her might.
The window squealed, and started moving.
Sadie sagged against the sill with relief.
Until she caught the reflection of light beneath the doorway, and realized the man with the flashlight was coming back upstairs.
“Shit,” she breathed, pushing frantically, growing soaked. The wind-driven rain felt like fingers of ice clawing at her skin. She finally had the sash open to the point that she could just wiggle herself underneath it, and she virtually dove through, head first. The pocket of her jeans caught a loose nail, hanging her up briefly, until she heard a mighty rip. The nail tore through the pocket, gouging into her butt, moments before she landed hard on the roof.
Where she promptly started sliding, rolling like a log straight toward the bottom.
“No!” Sadie grabbed the wet metal seams, seeking purchase with frantic fingers. But the roof retained all the tactile qualities of an eel and all she managed to do was shred her skin. Blood mixed with the running water to form
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