“Luke?” I call out and sit up in bed, but I’m only met with silence. The silence isn’t like that of a sleeping home, but the silence of fear. The hairs on the back of my neck raise as I hear another creak of the floorboard near the entrance to the hallway that leads to our room.
Climbing out of bed, I grab my phone then stand, staring at the door. Everything about this moment screams not right, but I open it anyways.
Maybe Sarah is sneaking out and stepped on Molly, but why would she not answer me when I called for Luke? She knows I wouldn’t care if she was hooking up with Eric.
Stepping softly through the open door and peering out into the hallway, I see nothing but darkness.
“Luke?” I call at the same time Eric appears at my right and covers my mouth and the scream I’m about to unleash. Pushing me back into the room, the sound of a gunshot cracks through the house and wood ricochets off my door. I fall to the floor with a scream, and Eric dives to the ground outside our door, scooting away from the entrance of the hallway.
“Hide!” Eric roars and another shot fires through the house, this time shaking me from my stunned confusion. I push myself out of sight from the gunman in the hallway.
Eric crouches at the corner and takes a deep breath, then snaps his arm around the corner and fires his gun I didn’t see him holding.
My brain is unable to process what is happening, and I watch in stunned horror until another bullet pierces through the wall just above Eric’s head.
Eric glances at me and signals for me to move but where? If I move forward, the gunman will see me; if I move to the left, I am met with the wall. My only option is to move to my right, toward the closet, but the gunman will see me moving. Hoping the darkness is enough to cover me, I crawl to the right when another shot goes off, hitting the bed inches from where my head is. I can’t stop the scream that claws from my throat and the tears that burn my eyes blind me as I cover my head with my hands and stay crouched there.
This is not how I pictured my life ending. My life doesn’t flash before my eyes, regrets do. Missed opportunities flash before them. I should have hugged Emily and Matt tighter. I should have called them and told them I loved them before they went to bed. I should have told Luke I loved him. I wish I could tell him so he knows, so he doesn’t have to wonder when I’m gone. I wish Eric and Sarah weren’t here so they could have a future together. I hope they survive this.
My lungs fight for oxygen and my heart is trying to beat out of my rib cage. So many regrets. I don’t want to leave with all these regrets. I want a chance to see my kids grow into adults. I want to see Luke again and tell him that I love him. I don’t want these regrets. I want to live. I want to fight, not cower here, playing regrets over and over in my head until I am no more. I want to fight.
Risking a glance out the hallway, Eric cranks his arm around the corner and shoots twice. Now’s my moment. The moment I fight to live and dive forward, out of the gunman’s line of sight. I scramble toward the closet but locking myself in there or in the bathroom will only delay the inevitable.
Another shot goes off, and I hear a groan coming from the hallway. It’s too close to be the gunman.
Eric! Oh God, he’s hurt!
Frantically, I search my room for anything I can use as a weapon. Footsteps coming down the hall echo like loud explosions. He’s getting closer.
I chance another quick glance over my bed to see how much time I have left when Eric pops up from his crouch and swings around the corner, arms extend and shoots chest-level down the hallway. Three rapid shots.
I don’t hear silence after that, only a steady, high-pitch ring, and stare dumbfounded at Eric, who is still standing in the hallway with his arms extended.
“You shot me!” a man cries over the ringing in my ears, and Eric takes a step forward almost out of my eyesight.
“Slide your gun to me!” he barks, his gun now aimed toward the ground. “Now!”
I hear the man groan. “I’m bleeding.”
“I said slide it now or I’ll shoot you again,” Eric yells and takes another step forward. I can only see his back.
“Amber?” Sarah softly calls from the hallway, but I don’t see her.
“I’m okay,” I call out to her. Am I? My heart is racing and my whole body trembles. The ringing in my ears hasn’t stopped either, and I think I may be in shock.
Having move farther down the hall, Eric is completely out of sight. Sarah comes to the bedroom door and looks around with her phone to her ear. It illuminates her face and I can see she’s frightened but stays calm speaking into the phone. How is she so calm?
“The intruder has been shot,” Sarah says into the phone but doesn’t dare look down the hall. “Eric, the police are on their way.”
“I’m sliding his gun toward you, Sarah, but don’t touch it,” Eric calls and I finally stand up on wobbly legs. “The intruder is Arnold Toppler.”
Arnold Toppler. I know that name. How do I know that name? It’s in my head, but shock, fear, and coming close to death has addled my ability to think, so I disregard it.
“Amber?” Sarah looks at me, scanning me from head to toe. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” I whisper and take a shaky step toward my sister. She rushes in still holding the phone to her ear and hugs me tightly. She’s shaking too but continues to talk to the dispatcher on the phone, giving them details.
“Why are you here?” Eric growls from down the hall and it snaps me somewhat out of my stupor.
“Please, man, I’m going to die,” the gunman groans. “I need help.”
“Start talking and you won’t,” Eric says, and I take another shaky step toward the door. I want to see the man who tried to kill me. I need to see him. I need answers.
“I was hired.”
“Hired to do what?”
“To . . . to kill his ex. Fuck, I’m bleeding. Come on!” the man yells, the desperation in his voice tugs at the nurse in me. I want to run in and start putting pressure on his wounds, but I hold back. This man’s words glue me to the floor. He was hired to kill me. Who would hire someone to kill me?
“Why?” Eric asks, wanting answers, too.
“Her ex wanted her gone, something about life insurance,” he moans.
Henry wanted me killed. If I hadn’t heard it from the man possibly dying in my hallway, I wouldn’t have believed it. Why have me killed? None of this makes sense, and maybe the shock I’m in makes it difficult to believe, but this has to be some sort of mistake. Henry wouldn’t do such a thing.
Still shaken and dazed, I walk out of my room and around the corner but stop there. I don’t want to get too close to the man who tried to kill me, but I need to know what the heck is going on.
“Why does Henry want me dead?” My voice is hollow and detached, even a little shaky. At some point, Eric turned on the hallway light and the man who said he was hired to kill me peers up at me with beady dark eyes filled with tears. There isn’t any hate in those eyes, just an emptiness touched with fear over his own life.
“Please, you gotta help me. I’m dying. It hurts!” he whines, those eyes pleading with me and I feel a little queasy. Queasy over his request to help him when his job was to kill me. Queasy over hearing Henry wanted me dead.