Chapter 2 - BLOOD ON THE HOTEL FLOORA deafening gunshot shattered the motel window!
Glass exploded inward like a cloud of crystal shrapnel! Malcolm gasped, his eyes flying wide as a crimson stain bloomed instantly across his chest. He collapsed forward onto the table, sending the lamp crashing to the floor.
"MALCOLM!" I screamed, dropping flat behind the wooden desk as more bullets tore through the drywall!
Outside in the hallway, heavy boots pounded against the carpet. Someone was trying to break down Room 412’s door!
BANG! BANG!
The reinforced deadbolt splintered. Without thinking, I scrambled toward the bathroom, locked the door, and pushed the heavy clawfoot tub against it just as the door was kicked open with a thunderous crash.
"Clear the room! Find the woman!" a cold, unfamiliar voice barked outside the bathroom door.
Heart hammering against my ribs, I locked myself in the small stall, pulling out my phone. My hands trembled so violently I could barely type. I dialed 911, but the call failed immediately—No Service. Jammed by a portable cell tower repeater.
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I looked down at the floor. A floor vent leading to the laundry chute was partially open.
With desperate strength, I popped the metal grate off with the heel of my shoe, squeezed my body into the dark, dusty chute, and slid downward into the freezing basement just as the bathroom door was kicked off its hinges upstairs.
