Day Twenty-Four
The buzzing behind him was intense, and he looked around to see three more buzzers floating, ready to pounce. The closest one’s shotgun clicked into place, and Raj ducked just before the wall next to him burst open.
He ran back into the living room, leaping over the sofa as another shotgun blast ate the wall in front of him. He rolled past the wreckage of the first heli, bumping into the tall metal reading lamp on the corner. It fell into his waiting hands, and he pushed forward with it, swinging hard, and caught the closest heli in the nose, sending it spinning back. Bits of glass fell on the ground… the camera lens… the thing was blind now, but still, it moved with dangerous precision.
His shoulder burst with pain, and he flinched downwards as another heli clipped him on the way by. He grabbed his arm, blood oozing through his fingers, and ran for the MacBook with everything he had left. He scooped it off the desk, held it high over his head, and screamed at the circling buzzers.
“Game over!” he shouted, and threw the MacBook into the floor. The screen shattered, the lid came clean off, and he heard the fan give one last frantic whine before a loud chunk signalled the death of the thing.
It was so satisfying he didn’t even notice the buzzers were still moving. It was the click of a shotgun that woke up him up.
He scooped the remnants of the MacBook off the ground and threw them towards the helis, catching one in the nose, and sending it smashing into the wall. The other two were off-balance, but recovering fast. He had to move.
He ran for the bedroom, skidding around the corner and racing towards the closet. He stumbled into the doors as the heli engines revved to full power, giving chase.
He toppled inside, kicked the doors closed, and pushed all the stereo equipment hard against them, hit feet pushing too, like the last line of defence against the nightmare outside.
One of the buzzers hit the doors lightly, sawing with an angry growl, then pulled back. Raj listened for the sound of shotguns. The click. Something. But he heard nothing.
Whatever hope he’d had of the neighbours complaining about weapons fir in the night had been ruined by the muffled sound the heli blasts had made. Silenced somehow. A dull pop, but nothing anyone would report, much less investigate. Even yelling for help would be pointless, because the whole building was used to his fights with Beth by now.
Beth. She knew he’d come, and she was ready. He should have known when the door was unchained. She was luring him back into the nest. Her killing den.
He covered his head with his arms, tried to control his breathing, but it was hard to breathe at all. He’d been fooled, and he was going to die in here, one way or another. Either by heli blade, or Beth’s wrath, or starvation, he…
No, wait. This was his panic room. He was ready for this. He was ready. He had food, light, batteries, a baseball bat… he was ready for anything. He swung around, reaching into the corner where he’d put the flashlight, and pulled it out of a pile of supplies. He felt along the base until he found the switch, pushed it on, and screamed.
Lying against the back wall was Beth, her neck savaged so badly, her head was nearly cut right off.
There was panic in her glossless eyes.