Dead Past

to hide. She saw a partially open door and a stairway. She slithered through the door and ran up the carpeted stairs. OK, now what. The gunman would be coming in, she knew it. Why hadn’t she gotten at least one of the guns that Catherine and Archie had? She always yelled at the people in movies who didn’t pick up dropped guns in situations just like this one. Damn.
    She ran into a bedroom and looked out the window onto the deck below. Someone was there. A hulking guy, not a ninja type. He was in a shadow. She eased over to the dresser, pulling out the drawers and looking for any kind of weapon. Foolish, the owners would have taken their guns with them. No. She felt the barrel of a gun. Pure joy. She grabbed it and pulled it out. It was a vibrator. Shit.
    She went into the bathroom, looking for something. Nothing but shampoo, conditioner, and Band-Aids. Come on, there’s got to be a razor blade—something. Nothing. She heard whoever it was trying to break in. Archie must have locked the doors behind him. Thank God for that. Her heart was pounding out of her chest. She ran to the nightstands and looked for anything.
    There was a photograph on the night table. She grabbed it and fumbling, took out the glass. She went to the bathroom and put a towel around it and broke it into several long pieces. She put three together, found some tape bandage, and wrapped it around one end of the pieces. She took a washcloth and wrapped and bandaged it up so that she had a soft handle. OK, now she had a piss poor weapon. But it was better than no weapon.
    Diane went back in the bedroom and started to rummage through the other nightstand. Suddenly it struck her. She was in the parents’ room. She needed to go to the kids’ room where there would be all kinds of sharp and dangerous things. She slipped out of the bedroom. She heard a downstairs door crash. Damn, he was in the house. She slipped into another room. Bingo. A kid’s room. She looked in the closet for a weapon, hockey stick, baseball bat, rocket, anything. Baseball bat. Wonderful. A metal baseball bat was leaning against the wall. Now she was armed and dangerous.
    Diane was about to come out of the closet when she noticed that the bedroom had a slanted roof. Her eyes were accustomed to the dark now, and she took time to examine the room and the inside of the closet. In the back of the closet under stacks of sports gear was a small access door into the extra space made by the eaves. She bet the kids used it all the time. It should be easy to open.
    She shut the closet door and slid the small access door open and crawled in, carrying her glass knife and dragging her bat. The kids had put a latch on the inside of the door. Not a strong one, but a latch. She locked it. It was a tiny room. Nice for kids, but definitely cramped for adults. The room was partially lit by a small round window. She looked out into the front yard, watching for movement. The snow reflected varying shades of blue under the moonlight. It was pretty. How odd that it was pretty.
    There beside a tree, a flicker of movement. A shadow figure sheltered itself against the trunk of the tree. It was a slim figure, not hulking like the other one she heard walking from room to room below. There were two of them. She knew who was after her now. They must have been watching her, waiting. Why didn’t they get her when she came out of the house, or through the woods? Didn’t see her in time? A car passed? She tried to think back to what she saw when she left her apartment. She was amazingly unobservant. She resolved from this day forth to be more observant.
    There was a creak on the stairs. Diane’s heart hammered harder. Her throat burned from the bile that came up from her stomach. She was praying that he’d look for her and decide she had left the house, found a way out, and run for cover in the woods. She could outrun them. She was younger. And she was willing to bet she was in better shape. Why hadn’t she picked up the gun and why hadn’t she run out of the house? Because you were scared shitless, she told herself. Two people were just shot in front of you and you thought you were next and you just panicked.
    Diane heard the floor squeak. He was in the kid’s bedroom. Stay still, don’t cough, don’t sneeze, just breathe slowly. She wanted to scream. Her heart was pounding in her ears now. Damn, why was she such a coward? She was braver than this when she was hanging by her fingernails off a ledge