Carter Reed 2 (Carter Reed #2)

My knife tore the last of the plastic, and she fell over. I scooted back—had I hurt her worse?—as she gasped awake. Her body twisted to the side as she woke, and I stood to step back, pressing my hands, with a knife clutched between my fingers, against my stomach. I could only wait and see her reaction.

She looked at the other side of the room, then scrambled to sitting. Her eyes were wild, and her mouth gaped as she saw me. “Emma?” she gasped.

I knelt next to her. “You’re okay?”

“Wha—”

A blood-curdling scream sounded from somewhere in the house. We both jumped.

She asked, “Who—”

“Come on.” I gestured for her to stand. “We have to go. Now.”

“Em—” But she pushed herself up. Her legs were unsteady, so I grabbed her arm, helping to balance her. The scream sounded again.

“Wha—who was that?”

Not human. At least, it didn’t sound human. The high-pitched scream made my stomach roll over. I only shook my head, though. “We have to go. Now,” I said again.

“Okay.” She held onto me. “Okay. Thank you, Emma. Thank you.”

It was my fault. I couldn’t say anything in return. My fingers clutched her arm, and I clasped a hand to her shoulder. Together, like that, we made our way down the stairs. She gestured ahead. “Through the kitchen. There’s a back area.”

I nodded.

As we came to the kitchen, I made sure she could stand alone, and then I stepped inside. I needed to go first, in case someone was there. I would fight back, not her, but no one was there. A door was off its hinges behind the stove. I could see a small walkway back there. I gestured for Andrea, and she scurried behind me. She took hold of the back of my shirt, and I edged forward, holding a gun in my hand. The scream came from that way.

They were back there.

One step at a time, we inched forward.

The walkway was small and narrow. I could see lights below it. It led into an area that seemed to be underground. There was shouting below us.

“No! Ahhh—”

Others yelled, but all of them were interrupted as a gunshot sounded. Whatever was below, or whoever, they were killing the people yelling.

“You fu—”

Another gunshot.

The person silenced.

“Emma,” Andrea whispered. “We should go.”

Carter was down there. I shook my head. “No.”

“Emma.” She tugged again. “You don’t understand. These people—”

Bang!

We both jumped. That shot was so near that my eardrums echoed from the deafening sound. Holding a hand over my ear, I stepped to an open doorway. Then my heart sank, again.

A man stood with his back to me, and he held a gun, aimed at Carter. Drake was on the floor with blood spilling from him. I scanned his body. The gunshot was in his shoulder. I hoped the bullet had gone clear through, like with Peter.

Carter saw us, but averted his eyes right away.

This was life or death.

I untangled Andrea’s hand from my shirt and edged forward. When she realized I was leaving her there, she shook her head. But it had to be this way. She had to stay. I told her this silently with my hand, then held a finger to my mouth. She also needed to remain quiet. Her head bobbed up and down. She seemed to understand what I was going to do.

“Stay right there,” the guy ordered Carter. He held the gun steady and stepped closer to him. Two steps. His back was rigid, his shoulders tense. He wasn’t steady and didn’t really seem in control. At any moment, he could shoot.

I wouldn’t let that happen.

Slowly, I edged inside the room and raised my own gun.

My arms were straight, and I aimed carefully.

Carter watched me now. His eye twitched. I didn’t know why—then I said, “Put it down.”

The guy tensed immediately. He began to turn around.

I moved forward. “Put. Your. Gun. Down.” My gun was right behind him. My heart pounded so loud I could barely hear myself. “Put it down. Now.”

“Emma,” Carter said.

I couldn’t hear anything else. My pulse was deafening. The guy still hadn’t done what I said, and I gestured to the floor. “Drop it. Now.”

He didn’t. He turned and pointed his gun directly at me—then all hell broke loose. As soon as his gun cleared from Carter, I heard Carter yelling, “Get down!”

I sank to the floor. The guy wavered, confused at seeing Andrea behind me. I twisted around and yelled at her, “Get down!”

She gasped, then fell to the floor.

At the same moment, Carter lunged. His elbow came down on the guy’s arm, and he yanked the gun from his hands before ramming his elbow into his head. The guy fell to the floor. His hips landed not far from me, just as someone else ran into the room. The shooter reached behind him, even as he was falling, and pulled out a second gun. I recognized Michael just as the shooter pointed his second gun at him—

Bang!

The shooter went limp. His gun fell from his hand and skidded across the room. Standing above him, with his gun cupped in both hands, was Carter.

He’d shot him.

The guy was going to shoot Michael, and Carter killed him instead.

We were all safe.