118

From the attic, Stevens cringed as Corporal Pelletier hit the carpet with a thud. The kid froze, his face draining of color. Down the hall, Corporal Buckley did the same.

Nobody moved. Stevens had heard Hurley pacing downstairs, talking. Couldn’t make out the words, but he figured it meant Windermere was still alive, at least.

Now, though, even Hurley had stopped moving. The whole house went silent. Waiting. Below Stevens, Pelletier reached for his sidearm.