When Devils Sing(99)
“What the hell,” Isaiah murmured, snapping photos of everything.
“A lot of weapons,” Neera observed.
Isaiah opened his mouth to respond when an engine sounded in the distance.
They both froze, listening intently beyond the ebb and flow of the thunderstorm. Then came the distinctive sound of gravel kicking up along the driveway. Peering through the nearest window, he could barely make out a vehicle crawling straight toward the cabin.
Isaiah swore to himself. He instinctively crouched to the floor, motioning for Neera to do the same, careful to stay out of sight from the approaching car. Not that the person could see through the torrential downpour anyway, but he had to be safe. A moment later, a Chevy truck stopped before the home, the person not bothering to turn off the headlights as they idled outside.
“Isaiah,” Neera breathed his name like a prayer, fear brimming in her brown eyes.
“Follow me closely,” Isaiah whispered. He scrambled down the hallway, tripping over his feet as he barreled through Dawson’s bedroom door. “Reid,” he huffed. “We have to go now.”
Reid looked up from the journal, rubbing his eyes as if he’d just seen a ghost. “Huh?”
The strange, pained look across Reid’s face caused Isaiah to falter. “Did you hear me? There’s someone coming. We need to get out of here quick.”
“What? Who?” Reid shut the journal, then moved to the bedroom window. His face paled at the sight of the man outside. “This is bad.”
Isaiah and Neera crawled beside him, peering over his shoulder.
“Wiley Calhoun,” Neera said solemnly.
The Langley family’s hired muscle was all hardness and cruelty, wearing it like a lethal suit of armor.
“Look,” Reid murmured. “Are those gas canisters?”
They all glanced anxiously between one another as Isaiah said, “He must be here to burn the house to the ground and any evidence within it.”
A tremor of fear nearly overcame him in that moment, but Isaiah stamped it down. He couldn’t get lost in it. Not now, not when their lives were at stake. He had to keep going.
Wiley made his way to the cabin’s front door, setting the red gas canisters at his feet. Then he dug in his jeans and materialized a key from his pocket. He donned a pair of gloves, then pulled a bandanna over the lower half of his face. Down the hall, Isaiah could just barely make out the sound of the front door unlocking. Reid moved across the room with deft steps, closing and locking the bedroom door before Wiley was inside.
The window, Reid mouthed. Our only way out.
Isaiah’s hands were slick with sweat as he fumbled with the window’s latch. He prayed with everything inside of him that the window would budge quickly and quietly. Now beside him, Reid helped lift the window with careful hands, but it barely slid open an inch. They continued to pull at it, but it didn’t move.
What do we do? Neera mouthed.
Heavy footsteps sounded on the other side of the house while the pungent smell of gasoline wafted to Isaiah’s nose. He’s dousing the entire house, he thought grimly.
“Slide the mattress in front of the door,” Isaiah commanded in a low voice as he continued to struggle with the stuck window. “We need more time.” That’s when he noticed the safety locks outside the windowpanes, effectively locking them in.
Reid and Neera slid Dawson’s mattress across the floor, blocking the door from opening. When they returned to Isaiah’s side, he pointed to the window. “We’re locked in.”
Reid anxiously rubbed his face, then knelt close to Isaiah. In the barest whisper, he said, “We have to break the glass.”
Isaiah shook his head. “It’s too risky,” he insisted. “He’ll hear us.”
Reid gestured around them. “Do we have another choice?” To Neera, he said, “Be ready to jump out first and run back to the car through the trees. We’ll be right behind you.” Neera nodded, while Isaiah gave him a weak thumbs-up as he glanced outside the window, grateful to find the drop to the ground was minuscule. He zipped up his rain jacket, tightening it around his chest. Okay, he mouthed.
Reid counted out one, two, three with his fingers, then knocked the window out with his elbow with a loud bang. Glass shattered across the floor, but there wasn’t time to react before Isaiah ushered Neera to the window. She didn’t hesitate to climb through it, glass trailing after her and into the storm.
As Isaiah braced himself to follow her, the floorboards creaked just outside the door. He and Reid went entirely still as the doorknob to Dawson’s room began to jiggle.
Wiley was trying to get in.
Reid motioned for Isaiah to go, his gray eyes wide and frantic as Wiley began to pound his fist against the door, violently shaking the frame. The mattress barricade would only afford them a few extra seconds.
Go, Reid breathed. Now!
Isaiah flung himself out the open window, glass scraping his palms. His movements were rushed and awkward, having only ever seen people climb out of windows on TV. As he met the soaked ground with his feet, it took a heartbeat to orient himself and run for the car.
Isaiah didn’t look back as he and Neera sprinted toward the tree line. He thought of nothing else but the cover of the dense pines as he ran across the muddied ground. It felt like ages before he reached the trees, but he didn’t slow down until there were yards between him and the cabin. He knelt to the ground, struggling to catch his breath as he watched Reid’s distant silhouette following behind.