Seth edged around Beck’s body, careful not to step in any blood. His fingers clenched tight around the shotgun’s grip, and he held it at the door, waiting for Earl to pop out of the hall at any second. He considered standing by the door, gun ready to shoot the next person who walked through. But who knew when that would be? And if there were more than one… No, Seth had to go out there.

After a deep breath, he strode forward, ready to peek beyond. He hesitated. Something didn’t feel right. His gut rumbled, and it felt like he was forgetting something. Leaving something behind.

His backpack. Cursing to himself, Seth stepped back over Beck and snatched his bag off the ground. He didn’t know why he cared about the backpack so much. Not right now, with so much at stake. But he felt a lot better once he slipped the straps over his shoulders and felt the laptop’s familiar weight pressing against his back.

That done, Seth peered out of the room. The hallway continued in both directions, gloomy save for the arcs of light that spilled from open doors. He waited for a moment, listening. He heard a slight murmur to the left. So left it was.

Seth walked into the hall, careful to keep his steps light against the squeaky floorboards. The walls here were painted light green, completely unblemished except for a splotch of plaster around an outlet. As he passed by open rooms, he glanced inside. They were mostly empty, though one had a ladder and another had clear plastic spread across the floor. It looked like the house was in the middle of remodeling, which would explain why the room he’d been in was so run-down.

The end of the hall curved to the right, opening into a stairwell with a vaulted ceiling. Railings extended beyond the stairs, over which one could look down at the first floor. Leaning against the railing stood Earl, his fingers tapping idly along the banister.

Seth swung the shotgun up and pointed it at the back of Earl’s head. He was only a few feet away, and he didn’t see how he could miss. Even so, the gun trembled in his hand, and his arm burned under the gun’s weight. He pulled the trigger.

The shotgun clicked. Empty. Shit!

Earl glanced at the noise, and his eyes shot wide. He reached down, pulled up his revolver in one smooth motion, and cocked the hammer back.

The shotgun, Beck had shot it earlier. But it had two barrels, and two triggers to match. Seth fumbled his finger to the second trigger, the gun swaying wildly as he readjusted. Again, he pulled the trigger.

The shotgun belched a hail of burning pellets, and the recoil kicked against Seth’s hand. He nearly dropped the gun, but he managed to hold on, palm stinging as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to his hand. Seth’s ears rang from the sound, but not as loud as before. Plaster rained down from the ceiling.

Earl turned to Seth. Blood dripped down the side of his face, and his ear was missing, but otherwise, he seemed fine. The shotgun blast had only grazed him.

God damn it!

Light flickered across the revolver as Earl swung it around in a wide arc. Seth rushed forward and grabbed Earl’s arm, holding the gun to the side. Earl fired, the bullet whizzing past and slamming against the wall. He shot again, and another time, and Seth flinched with every crack of gunfire.

Earl grappled Seth with his free hand, his arm thick and meaty and considerably stronger than anything Seth could throw at him. He shoved Seth back, wrenched his pistol free, and the sudden release sent Earl stumbling back against the banister.

The shotgun may have been empty, but it was still a heavy piece of metal. Seth reared back and slammed the barrel across Earl’s chin. Metal crunched against bone. Earl cried out, and he fired again. This time, Seth felt the bullet whip through a loose fold in his hoodie, right under his left armpit.

Anger boiled within Seth’s chest. He’d never wanted any part of this. He wasn’t an intruder or a spy. He never wanted to fight anyone, to kill anyone. But right now, the only thing he could think of was tearing this bastard’s head off.

He felt a rush of energy flow down his limbs, hot and full of rage. Seth grasped hold of this burning potential, and he rushed forward, kicked Earl square in the chest.

The impact shoved Earl against the banister, then straight through it, the wooden railing bursting under his weight. Earl flailed for a moment before slamming to the ground. Broken wood rained down on him. He lay on his back, cursing and gasping for air. Even so, he tried rolling onto his side, his pistol still clenched between bone-white fingers.

No time to hesitate. Seth ran around the broken railing and sprinted down the stairs. He jumped down the last few, and his momentum carried him straight into a wall. His shoulder punched into the drywall, but Seth ignored the pain, shoved away, and stumbled toward Earl.

Chunks of the broken railing and long splinters were strewn about the hardwood floor. Earl looked up, blood dripping down his face, and he grit his teeth. He crawled on all fours, but at the sight of Seth, he twisted, landed hard on his ass, and raised his revolver.

Seth swung his shotgun like a baseball bat. The hard metal clanked against the revolver, crunched against the fingers holding it. Earl screamed as he dropped the weapon, and Seth quickly kicked the revolver to the side, out of reach.

For a moment, they looked at each other. Earl’s pale eyes were wide with fear, and his beard shook as he ground his teeth together. He opened his mouth, said something. But Seth didn’t hear a thing against the blood rushing through his ears. He stood still, unsure what to do. But there was only one real option.

This man had kidnapped him, threatened him, shot at him. Seth was alone, trapped in a stranger’s house with who knew how many enemies. Every second that he wasted, another of Earl’s allies could show up and put a bullet in his head. No, Earl had to die, and fast.

With the decision made, Seth reversed the grip on his shotgun, holding it by the barrel. He reared back, then slammed the handle into Earl’s face. The polished wood cracked against bone. Earl screamed, fell back. Seth struck him again, this time swinging the makeshift club straight into Earl’s nose. Cartilage crunched. Blood sprayed. Again. Seth swung at Earl, then he swung again. He kept swinging until he was out of breath and his arms ached.

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Earl lay against the floorboards. He didn’t move. His face was a mess of swollen welts and purple bruises. Trails of blood trickled down his forehead, where a nasty seam split his skin. His eyes were glued shut from the swelling. He wasn’t breathing.

It was over. Seth let the shotgun slip through his sweaty fingers and clatter against the ground. He shivered. Earl had to be dead. He had to be. Seth knew he should feel sick, repulsed by what he’d done. And he did, but it was distant and hollow.

And why should Seth care about the dead body that lay before him? Earl had kidnapped him. This was life or death, and Seth couldn’t be held accountable for choosing his life over some psycho. Right, Seth would go to the police, and soon this would all be over.

“Hey!” A door swung open, and David stumbled into the living room. “What the hell’s going on out here?”

Seth froze for a single heartbeat, then he dove to the side and scrambled for the revolver. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, blazing hot, and his heart pounded in his ears. His fingers slipped around the revolver’s cool metal, but he managed to grasp it and whirl toward David.

He pulled the trigger. The gun clicked, but it didn’t fire. Was it empty? No, Seth could see bullets resting within the cylinder. So why hadn’t it gone off?

David stared at him. “What the fuck?” The question hung in the air for a moment, but the man didn’t pull out a weapon. He appeared unarmed. His loss.

Seth didn’t know much about guns, but he remembered Earl pulling back the hammer between each shot. Was that necessary? But now was not the time to experiment. Seth pulled back the hammer, and the cylinder spun with the motion, then clicked into place. He held the pistol at arm’s length, barrel aimed straight at David’s chest. He pulled the trigger.

The revolver leaped in his hand, and a puff of powder exploded from the wall over David’s shoulder.

The crack of gunfire finally spurred David into action. He hunkered down, hand over his head, and he bolted for the front door.

Seth gave chase. He couldn’t let anyone get away, otherwise they’d come back with more friends and more guns. His thumb slithered over the hammer and pulled it back again. This time, he took a second to steady his aim. He was too slow.

The door swung open, and David ran outside, yelling for help. Footsteps pounded against the brick porch, then thudded against grassy soil. Seth ran to the door and leaned against the frame.

He looked out into the yard. Long weeds filled the patch of grass beyond the porch, with a forest of pine trees to his left and the gravel road to his right. Across the road stretched a field of grain. Seth didn’t know what it was, but it was different from the corn.

An engine rumbled, and a second later an ATV jumped from the side of the house, gravel spitting in its wake. David gunned the ATV down the road, head hunched low.

Seth held out the revolver and stared down its iron sights. He held his breath, steadied his aim, then fired. A burst of smoke shot from the barrel. A heavy clank echoed across the yard, accompanied by a spray of sparks from the back of the ATV. David flinched from the impact, but he didn’t look back as he sped down the road.

Before David lost himself in the rolling hills, Seth cocked the hammer and fired again. The hammer cracked down, but the gun didn’t shoot. It was out of ammo.

Shit!

Seth hurried back inside, slammed the door shut, and latched it closed. The latch wouldn’t do much, but it was better than nothing. That done, he leaned back against the wall and tried to think.

The living room was empty, the floor scuffed where furniture used to be. Earl lay in the middle of it, still surrounded by broken shards of wood. Beyond him was the kitchen. Also empty, the appliances pulled out with only frayed wires left behind. It seemed the whole house had been gutted. An empty shell.

Alex was here. Somewhere. There was a hall to the side, where David had come from. She was probably down there, and Seth considered calling out to her.

No, not yet. He held the revolver by his side, comforted by its weight. But the weapon was out of ammo. If more of these psychos came for him, then he would be screwed. No, before saving Alex he had to see if there were any other weapons around.

Earl was the obvious start. The man hadn’t moved. Still, Seth nudged him with his boot, then he kicked him, just to be safe. Satisfied that Earl was dead, or close enough to it, Seth knelt by his side and pulled at his belt. A holster hung across his thigh, as well as a sheath for a long knife. Seth unhooked both and laid them on the floor.

The holster was nothing special, but it had a pocket on the front of it. Inside, Seth found two strings of bullets, each carrying six and held together by a rubber strip.

That was exactly what he’d been hoping for. Thank God.

Seth inspected the revolver, and after a bit of fumbling, he found a door on the side that gave access to the cylinder. He thought the cylinder might swing out, like in the movies, but it looked like he’d have to reload the damn thing one bullet at a time. Well, the gun did look old, like something out of a Western.

Seth leaned the pistol back and slapped it with his palm, knocking the spent casing free. That done, he carefully inserted a bullet and twisted the cylinder to the next spot. As quickly as possible, he reloaded the other five bullets. It took a long time.

Now that the gun was loaded and ready, Seth released the tension in his shoulders. If David came back here, he’d be ready.

Still, there was more to do. Seth spent the time to attach the holster to his belt, as well as the knife. He also put the extra strip of bullets into his jeans pocket. He figured they were easier to access there than in the holster.

Alex. Freeing her was the next step. The logical thing to do. And yet, he didn’t feel ready to leave the living room. He was certain there was no one else in the house. They would have heard the gunfire and come out to investigate. But staying still felt safer, somehow. He knew it was stupid.

“Alex,” Seth said. His voice came out soft and scratchy, and he coughed before trying again. “Hey, Alex. Are you there?”

He crept toward the hall, where David had come from. No one answered his question. Darkness shrouded the hallway. Dusty windows lined one side, but thick blinds blocked most of the light. Seth squinted into the darkness, trying to adjust. Did this house have a single lightbulb?

Opposite the windows was a lone door, all the way at the end of the hall. Seth approached, careful to keep his footsteps light and his gun raised. He peered inside. A dark figure sat in a chair, hands strapped to the armrests.

“Alex?”

She looked at him, eyes wide and wet with tears. “Seth, is that you?”

“It’s me.” He stepped inside. The room was small and empty, just like the rest of the house. The only furniture was the chair Alex sat in and a large utility sink in the corner. More frayed wires stuck from an outlet, and it looked like this was supposed to be a laundry room.

“Seth, what the hell is going on? There was gunfire, and, shit. Seth, why do you have a gun?”

He didn’t bother answering. There wasn’t time. Instead, he pulled out Earl’s knife, a long blade fixed to a wooden handle, and he began cutting through her restraints. The knife sliced through the zip tie with ease, and he moved to the second arm.

This close, he got a better look at her face. A nasty bruise welled up under her eye, likely a result of her questioning.

“Seth, what’s going on?” She shivered as Seth pressed the knife against her skin, slipping it under the tie.

“We can talk later. But we need to get the fuck out of here. Check your phone. See if you have a signal.”

“Okay.” Alex reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. The screen flashed to life, almost blinding in the darkness. She tapped at it for a few seconds. “No. Nothing.”

The knife clipped through the last of Alex’s restraints, and she tentatively stood. Seth watched her for a moment. She swayed on her feet, and it looked like she might fall over. He was tempted to reach out, to steady her. But he held his hand.

“Come on,” Seth said. “Let’s go.”