Gunshots thundered from outside the insulated room. Bullets ripped through the door and slammed into the boxes. Others thudded high into the wall on the opposite side of the freezer. It sounded more like Fourth of July than Halloween.
Cooper felt the makeshift wall of boxes shudder every time a bullet lodged in it. He hugged the ground, wishing he could burrow through it to safety. He heard himself screaming.
Lunk tucked himself in a ball next to him, screaming as loud as the gunfire itself.
The gunfire stopped. And so did Cooper.
Lunk’s screams morphed into sobs and moans.
Cooper kept his head low but spoke directly into Lunk’s ear. “Follow my lead.” Lunk looked at him with wild eyes. He blinked once, then nodded.
Blam! Blam! Blam! Bullets slammed into the wall of boxes.
Cooper kept his eyes locked on Lunk’s. “Scream.”
Cooper shrieked and hollered while Lunk did the same.
Gunshots came faster now like two guns were blazing.
Cooper drew one finger across his throat and put his hand over Lunk’s mouth.
Lunk seemed to understand. He clenched his teeth like he was determined not to let out a sound.
“No!” Cooper howled, rolling onto his back. “You killed him. I won’t talk. Please, stop!”
Three more shots.
Cooper stopped abruptly. Lunk watched him wide-eyed.
Two more bullets hammered the back wall. Cooper kept his mouth shut.
Pieces of insulation, scraps of cardboard and smoke filled the air. Cooper’s body tensed, bracing for another round, but nothing came. Were they reloading? Did they leave?
Somebody pulled on the door again. The belts did their job.
Cooper put one finger to his lips. Lunk nodded.
“One more clip.”
It sounded like Elvis, but Cooper couldn’t be sure.
The room exploded in gunfire. The second shot took out the light bulb, covering them with darkness and shards of glass. The blackness brought its own terror, and a strange sense of protection at the same time. Bullets slammed into the boxes or the back wall.
Eight shots. Maybe nine. Cooper lost count, but his ears rang with the echos of them. Then silence. The kind of silence when you just know something is about to jump out at you.
Icy fingers reached up from the floor and gripped his gut. So this is what it feels like to be in the county morgue.
Light from the holes in the door cast eerie beams against the back wall. Frosty, smoke-like swirls twisted and turned in the beams like they were squirming in the agony of death.
Are they gone? The question looped in his brain. Or are they waiting outside the door—listening just like me.
Cooper started shivering. He felt Lunk’s hand on his shoulder, pressing hard. Trying to let him know he was alive or trying to keep him still—he couldn’t tell. Don’t worry, Lunk, I’m not going anywhere. Try leaving now and they’d probably get shot. Wait for help, and they may freeze to death. Maybe he’d been shot and was dead already.
He thought he heard more gunfire. Distant though. Definitely not inside. And maybe they weren’t even gunshots at all.
Cooper didn’t close his eyes, but he prayed. Thanked God they’d made it this far. Prayed the men were gone. Promised God for the umpteenth time that he’d never lie again.
“Th-think they’re g-gone?” Lunk whispered.
“I h-hope s-so.” Cooper’s teeth chattered.
“You p-prayin’?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t stop.”
The beams shining through the bullet holes broke for a moment. Somebody passed by the door.
Lunk gripped his shoulder tighter. He’d obviously seen it too.
Somebody pulled on the door again. Like the sickos wanted to see the bodies.
Suddenly his phone rang. Both boys jumped like someone had given them a jolt from a pair of defibrillator paddles—but they kept their mouths shut.
It had to be Hammer. He was the only one who had the number. Where was he? If Cooper answered the phone, Elvis and Mr. Clown would know he was still alive and they’d try to finish the job. Clenching his jaw tight, Cooper laid absolutely still and let the phone ring.