The Bone House - Brian Freeman [132]
Amy sat up and again hugged Hilary in an embrace so strong she could barely breathe. 'Thank God, thank God, oh, Hilary, thank you,' she murmured in a rush of words.
Hilary peeled the girl's arms firmly away. 'I know, kiddo, but keep quiet, he's downstairs. We have to hurry. Help's on the way.'
Hilary grabbed her car keys out of her pocket and sawed at the tape on Amy's left leg with the jagged edge of one key. The threads split apart, and she tore it away, making the girl's skin bleed. Amy winced and bent her leg at the knee to jump-start her circulation.
Hilary quickly freed her other leg.
'Let's go,' she whispered. 'Let's get the hell out of here.'
Amy swung her legs off the bed, but her knees gave way as she stood up, and she collapsed heavily into Hilary's arms.
'I'm dizzy,' Amy said.
'I know. Try again.'
Hilary slid an arm around the girl's waist, and Amy draped her left arm around Hilary's shoulder. Amy swayed as the two of them took a step together, but she didn't fall.
'Stay quiet,' Hilary whispered. 'The front door is at the bottom of the stairs. We'll go straight down and out, OK?'
'Hell yeah.'
With each step, the girl grew stronger. Her young body shrugged off the after-effects of the drug and the long stretch spent prone on the bed. She let go of Hilary, balancing one hand on the wall of the hallway. They reached the stairs leading back to the ground floor, and Hilary went first, with Amy at her heels. Freedom felt close; she could almost smell the rain and pine outside. The staircase wound like a corkscrew, and as they followed the iron railing round the curve, the front door beckoned to them from across the marble tile of the foyer.
She wanted to run. In ten seconds, they could be through the door and safe. She reached behind and took hold of Amy's hand.
Hilary glanced back at the girl. Their eyes met. She gave Amy an encouraging smile, and the girl's face glowed with confidence as she smiled back. Then, as Hilary watched, the smile vanished, and Amy's expression bled into terror. Hilary looked downstairs and understood why.
Gary Jensen stood at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for them. Hilary's eyes followed the length of his right arm and saw that he was holding a gun.
Amy screamed in panic, yanking Hilary's hand and dragging both of them back up the twisting staircase. The girl's speed took Jensen by surprise, but they were only a handful of steps ahead of him as he charged in pursuit. At the top of the stairs, Amy sped left through the open door to the master bedroom. Hilary cleared the doorway behind her, slammed the door shut, and pushed the surface bolt into place just as Jensen's shoulder collided with the heavy door.
Hilary longed for the sound of sirens, but she heard nothing outside. She dug out her phone and punched in 911 on the keypad. On the other side of the door, Jensen hammered and kicked. The lock shivered under the impact, the screws loosening. She heard the phone ring once, twice, then three times, with excruciating slowness.
Jensen kicked again.
'Nine one one emergency,' the operator finally answered.
'Get the police here, we've got a man trying to kill us.'
Her panic didn't rattle the operator. 'Ma'am, this is a mobile phone. I'm showing this phone registered to an address in Washington Island, Wisconsin. What is your current location?'
Jensen kicked again, and this time the lock exploded off the door, and the door itself spun on its hinges and banged into the wall. He surged through the doorway with his gun extended and his finger on the trigger. He pointed the barrel at Hilary's head.
'Ma'am, what is your location?' the operator repeated.
'Hang up!' Jensen whispered.
Hilary hesitated. The operator spoke urgently into her ear. 'Ma'am? Are you OK? Are you still there? Ma'am, what is your location?'
Jensen shifted and pointed the gun at