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“Take it easy,” I said, adopting the we’re-all-friends-here tone he’d been using. “No one needs to get hurt.”

“I mean, that’s not technically true.” Jeremy aimed the gun at Kirby first. “It all depends on how open you are to leaving the ladies here. I’ll even let you go with no extra holes in you if you don’t make a big fuss about it.”

Ava pulled in a harsh breath and stiffened beside me.

My body coiled tight, eyes locked on Jeremy’s trigger finger. “No one’s staying, but if you put the gun down, we’ll make sure you’re still breathing when we leave.”

He laughed, the sound so big and jovial it raised the hairs on my arms. “You’re a funny guy,” he said, his eyes shining with humour. “I like that.”

Ava shifted, the movement small and subtle. Tension thrummed between us, and with no further thought, I dived and grabbed the table by the wall, hurling it at Jeremy’s head.

The corner slammed into his chest instead, and he flinched, the rifle jerking upward.

“Go!” I yelled, shoving Ava toward the hall.

Kirby was already moving, with Ava right behind her, their footsteps thumping toward the back of the house. I pivoted and followed, slipping on the wood floor in my socks.

A shot cracked behind me, booming in the enclosed space. My ears rang, and splinters sprayed my shoulder like needles.

Run, run, run.

My heart clanged as I chased after Ava and Kirby.

I didn’t look back, didn’t stop.

Just kept running—and hoping none of us would die today.

“Shit. I can’t get it.” Kirby fumbled with the lock on the back door as I checked over my shoulder, expecting to see Jeremy striding after us, gun aimed at my back.

He’d gone.

Ava shouldered her out of the way and wrenched the thing, slamming the door open so hard it bounced off the side wall. They both tumbled outside, racing across the porch and down the steps, straight onto damp grass.

“Fucking ducks,” Kirby growled, stepping on a landmine. She stopped and tugged at her sock, sending a panicked glance over her shoulder.

“Keep moving.” I grabbed her arm and dragged her with me until she shook off my hold.

The cold air ripped the breath from my lungs, and the clouds overhead had darkened, threatening rain. We passed an overgrown garden bed and a cracked concrete fountain that hadn’t held water in years.

“What’s that?” Ava stopped abruptly and stared at the open space between the house and the sheds down the back.

A path of flattened grass led from the house to two bodies lying side by side on the ground, a wheelbarrow close by.

Kirby swore. “No way.”

“Don’t look,” I said. “It’s only going to make it worse.”

“Too late.”

We’d never know if he’d killed them while they were still human. They could have turned and been put down.

Ava’s jaw set, and she made a rough sound in her throat. “They looked like nice people.” She grabbed a rusted shovel that was propped against the rear wall.

We approached the corner of the house, socks wet and patchy with stains. I poked my head around, then pulled back. “He’s not there.”

“The driveway’s so long,” Ava whispered. “What if he’s just standing on the verandah, waiting to take potshots at us for fun?”

“Something tells me he’d get a kick out of that.”