The War Cloud

43

Jennifer backed away from the window as she watched the two Green Berets walk toward the caddyshack. She ran back to the tiny kitchen that in the summer kept the caddies fed between golf rounds. She opened the pantry next to the refrigerator, which was unplugged. She pulled out the empty, removable stacks and shelves and hid them behind the fridge. Finally, she opened the back door a crack, to make it look like she had escaped. Then she hid herself in the bottom half of the pantry, ignoring the rat droppings. With a shiver she closed the door and held her breath in the dark.

She heard the front door rattle. A second later it was kicked open with a loud crash. She gasped and then clapped her hand over her mouth.

She could hear the soldiers check the sliders of the guns with a couple of loud clicks for effect, to signal they were coming after her, hoping she’d make a sound. She sat stone still.

One of the soldiers whispered, “Look.”

They were at the back door.

Jennifer felt a draft as the back door was fully opened.

“Maybe,” said a second voice. “Check it out.”

Jennifer heard the front door open again, hoping against hope they were leaving, when she heard the floor creak inside the kitchen.

Oh, God, no.

Someone was standing directly on the opposite side of the pantry door. The door began to crack open. She was about to scream when the soldier’s radio popped and the door closed.

She heard his gravelly voice say, “Copy that. We’re out of here.”

She listened to his footsteps walking out of the kitchen. Then she heard the front door open and close shut.

A minute later the heavy thuds of the Suburban’s doors closed. The engine roared to life and then faded in the distance as it drove off.