Snowbound

SIXTY-THREE

Will froze in his tracks, Suzanne’s voice squeaking over the radio in his pocket. “What just happened?”

Kalyn responded, her voice a whisper: “They cut the power. This means they’re close, wearing night-vision goggles, and getting ready to make their move. I know it’s pitch-black at the end of those corridors, but your eyes will adjust, so everyone stay calm. You all have flashlights, and if you shine the beam in their eyes, you’ll screw up their vision for a minute or two. Now I don’t want anyone using the radio again until you’ve made visual contact.”

Will could see the lobby just ahead, lantern light flickering across the wall and the floor. He thought he heard Kalyn whispering, wondered if she was sending up prayers against whatever was coming.

Will turned around, jogged back toward the alcove, practically tripped over Rachael in the darkness.

“Just me, honey.”

“I can’t see a thing, Will.”

“Get your flashlight out.”

“I’m already holding it. Should I turn it on?”

“No, but be ready when I say. I’ll handle the shotgun. You be my light source.” Will found his radio, just a red dot in the darkness. He pressed TALK. “Suzanne and Lucy? Copy?”

Suzanne’s voice came back: “Yeah?”

“Don’t turn it on yet, but one of you operate the flashlight while the other mans the shotgun. Better than each of you fumbling with two pieces of equipment at once.”

The radio went quiet, and Rachael and Will stared at the alcove, waiting for their eyes to adjust, to begin picking out form and shape in the darkness, but they never did.