Page 41 of When the Night Comes Knocking

As Jim lifts up his work boot to drive it into Jackson’s skull again, Thomas charges forward.

In a near instant, Jim grabs the shotgun from Kimi’s hands and points it at Thomas, freezing him in place in the doorway. He holds it there for what feels like hours before cocking the gun and switching the aim to Jackson’s beaten body.

Thomas doesn’t think much about what he does next. All he knows is that one second he is standing in pitiful surrender, and then the pocketknife clipped on Kimi’s belt loop is in his good hand. He grabs her, pulling her close so that the tip of the knife is pointed at her throat.

Her yelp gets Jim’s attention. It holds it.

He’s like an older brother, Kimi said.

Thomas counts on it as he tightens his grip, staring Jim down. “Put down the gun. Now.”

“Are you crazy?” Kimi rasps, digging her fingers into his wrist.

“That’s enough,” Thomas says. “Leave him and put down the gun.” He gulps, heart beating faster as Jim’s nostrils flare. “Otherwise I’m sure Kimi here would be happy to say hi to Billy and Grace for you.”

Oh, he’s definitely going to kill me for that, Thomas thinks.

“I’ll kill you for that,” Jim says.

Yep.

Thomas presses the knife closer to Kimi’s skin, seeing how scarily easy it would be to pierce through it, right down to her carotid artery. He fights back the taste of vomit in his mouth and holds Jim’s glare, hoping he comes off just as deranged so the drunk doesn’t call his bluff.

Carefully, Jim lowers the gun. He steps back inside and slams the door shut behind him, abandoning Jackson.

Kimi pulls free as Thomas loosens his grip, then she snatches the gun from Jim before he can raise it again. She pushes the man back carefully, muttering something only he can hear as he stares down Thomas, face red and neck veins popping.

Thomas measures the distance the cashier puts between him and the pocketknife. “I wasn’t going to do anything,” he tells her.

“Fuck you,” she says.

Ashley’s voice is no more than a crooked rasp. “It was the right thing to do,” she announces. Her eyes are trained on the smeared line of red across the floor, following to where it ends abruptly at the closed door. “We had to do what’s best for the whole group. It was the right thing to do.”

Thomas swallows his scream down, clenching his fists. There’s no other option in his head now—he’ll get Jane and make a run for it. They won’t spend another second with these people in their free fall over the edge.

“Where’s my sister?” he asks, looking around for a glimpse of Jane’s oversize sweater or Winnie’s tail following close by.

At the looks the others exchange, his blood boils.

He stops inches away from Ashley’s face, ignoring the frightened shine that reaches her eyes. “Tell me where my sister is right now, or I swear to God—”

“Would you calm down?” Kimi cuts him off, falling into place at Ashley’s side.

Thomas eyes the gun clutched in her hands, realizing he hasn’t yet dropped the pocketknife in his own, though right now he imagines Kimi’s stare could manage to cut sharper.

“Jane is perfectly safe,” she says. “She’s back in the office with Sheila.”

Fifteen

her fair share of beasts,

Sheila clears the small office space with an easy stride and bends down to Jane’s eye level, seemingly unaffected by the utility belt tied tight to cut off her leg’s circulation or the chunk of skin and muscle missing from her thigh. The woman’s eyes are now shades darker, the pupils blown wide.

Jane’s limbs freeze, coiling up tightly as Sheila’s face stops only a few inches away, beautiful and so very wrong. “It’s you,” Jane barely manages to whisper.

The officer raises a finger and gently twirls a strand of Jane’s hair. “You know, I really don’t know how you can live with yourself,” she says, leaning forward so her lips brush across Jane’s cheek in a featherlight kiss. “Your poor heart—it’s drowning in a pain that I can practically taste.”

Sheila’s skin is ice as her hand cups Jane’s face with an alarming tenderness. “You’re in so much pain. Such delicious pain,” she says, savoring each word as she curls the other hand around Jane’s throat. “My mouth has been watering since you stepped onto this mountain.”