Page 10 of Who's Afraid of the Big, Bad World

“Sip,” Noah whispered to Annabelle.

Her eyes were unfocused, and her body was limp. She was barely awake, and the heat radiating from her was ferocious. With a feeble mew, she tried to do as he instructed.

“I don’ hear nothing,” one of the guys said.

“Just fucking listen,” their leader ordered. “It came from behind me.”

With a glance at the monitors, Noah saw the four men turn toward the back wall.

And the panic room.

Noah focused on Annabelle again. She was completely out of it and burning up. As her lips touched the glass, she coughed again. Only this time, much louder.

They were caught.

On the monitor, as one, the four men strode straight toward them.

“She’s in the wall,” the leader said.

“Secret room?” one of the men asked.

“Gotta be behind the mirror,” another said.

Annabelle had stopped coughing and was sipping the water now. Her eyes were closed, and she was fast asleep again within seconds. But the damage had already been done. Noah lowered her to the floor and, still crouching behind the barrier, swiveled to face the door. His wrists resting on top of the wooden desk, he aimed his gun at the door.

Sweat pooled in the small of his back, but his breathing remained steady and his mind calm and focused. There was no point in thinking about the odds of getting out of the panic room alive. He had a job to do. That was all that mattered. An image of his boys flickered in his mind, but he ruthlessly pushed it aside. They knew he loved them, and thinking about them now was only a distraction. His heart clenched at the thought of never seeing them again, but he swiftly locked those feelings away. Feelings could get you killed.

As the men knocked on the wall surrounding the mirrored door, Noah glanced at the screen. All four men were frowning. One of them hooked his gun into his jeans and grabbed hold of the mirror. With some effort, he ripped it from the door.

“Look what we have here.” The leader smiled maliciously. “Open it,” he ordered the guy next to him.

The guy looked baffled. “How? There’s no handle. There’s nothing.”

“Fucking idiot.” The leader ran his hand down the wall beside the door, easily locating the thin seam that revealed the pressure panel that opened the door.

He pressed.

Nothing happened.

The door was locked from the inside.

“Bitch,” he muttered. “Ram it.” He gestured to the other Demons.

The biggest one took a few steps back and ran at the door.

It felt like the whole building shuddered. But the door held fast.

“Frame’s gotta be reinforced,” the big guy said.

The stocky guy tapped the wall again and slowly grinned at the others. “Doesn’t sound like the walls are anything but plasterboard.”

The leader did a chin lift, signaling for them to step back.

Noah’s stomach tightened as he watched them line up in front of the panic room door.

As one, they raised their guns.

And fired.