They scrambled.
Iyisha already had the small gun in her hand, both palms slick with sweat as she tried to remember how it had felt a few minutes earlier, when pulling the trigger had seemed like the only possible choice.
Mary stood beside her with the second pistol raised, elbows locked because her arms would not stop shaking.
Ester held the shotgun tight against her shoulder, the barrel angled low but ready, jaw clenched so hard her teeth ached. Lando stayed seated on the bed, back straight, hands gripping the mattress as if bracing for impact.
A gunshot slammed into the door.
The sound cracked through the room, wood splintering inward as dust and snow shook loose from the frame. They froze in place, weapons raised, breath trapped in their chests, hearts hammering so loudly Iyisha was sure it could be heard through the walls. Her finger rested too close to the trigger, close enough that fear of her own reflexes sent a sharp tremor up her arm.
The door burst open.
