The Last Day

SEVENTY-FOUR

Holding hands, the three women strode in controlled panic down the hall in the dark, entering the master bedroom. Natasha slammed and locked the heavy door after them.

“The killer is in the house?” Alice asked.

“Not now,” Leslie snapped.

“Well, excuse me for asking questions,” Alice shot back. “There is a maniac after me.”

“Sorry, Alice,” Natasha said. “Why in God's name are you two here? It isn't fair. We have to get you both out safe.”

“What about you?” Leslie said, holding the knife down by her side.

“He wants me,” Natasha said. “Worst case, he gets me. Go, you two. Out the window. Go to the road and flag down a car, or turn right and go to the subdivision and call the sheriff.”

Taking the window crank in hand Natasha started turning it counterclockwise and the window began to slowly open out. As she was about to get it open enough for them to get out, there was an explosion, loud even through the solid door.

“Ward!” Natasha cried out.

“Was that a gun?” Alice asked.

“Ward must have shot at him,” Leslie said, hopefully. “Maybe he got him?”

Or maybe he shot at Ward. “Leslie, you and Alice go now! Get away while he's in here.”

“What about you?” Leslie said. “I'm not going anywhere.”

Alice went to the window and looked out. “It's a long way down,” she said. “I could get hurt jumping down there.”

“You could get killed in here,” Natasha said. “Now go. You, too, Leslie.”

“You're not coming?” Leslie asked, incredulous.

Through the door the women heard the killer's muted laughter.

“Ward needs me,” Natasha said. “I won't leave him. Give me that knife and go.”

“You want the knife?” Leslie asked.

“What, are you going to fight a killer?” Alice asked.

“If need be,” Natasha said.

“But you're a doctor,” Alice said. “What do you know about killing people?”