Vance raised his hand, the metal of a small revolver glinting in the headlights.

“Where is the drive, Ethan?” Vance asked.

“I don’t have it,” Ethan said, his voice remarkably calm.

“Paul has it.”

“Then Paul will die too,” Vance said.

“But you first.”

I held Lauren close to my side, my hand covering her mouth so she wouldn’t scream.

The flashlight in my hand was cold and useless now.

I looked around the dark stairwell, looking for anything to use as a weapon or a distraction.

My fingers brushed against the gold pen in my pocket.

It was heavy and solid, but useless against a gun.

Then, a sudden noise came from the far side of the garage.

The heavy metal garage door began to rise, its gears grinding loudly in the concrete space.

A pair of bright headlights swung into the entrance, blinding Vance and Ethan.

A black sedan roared down the ramp, its tires screeching on the wet concrete.

Vance turned, shielding his eyes from the glare.

“Who is that?” Vance shouted.

The car didn’t stop. It accelerated straight toward them.