Sorry, everybody, extremely busy and unable to find the time to write - so today's chapter is only half as long as usual. But didn't want to keep you hanging too long. Don't know when the next one will be posted, but hopefully tomorrow! Hope everyone is staying safe - and thanks for reading!

The metallic sound repeated itself, followed by silence. He was sure it was the front door of the store-turned-schoolhouse, and he wondered who else but Carol Stayner would have access. He remembered seeing a large hasp, not unlike the one on the closet door in the 'office', that had been spot-welded to the front door, and realized, somewhat belatedly, that of course they wouldn't have keys to the actual door. They had no legal right to the property.

Holding his breath, he strained to hear more, hoping without conviction that he had been mistaken and the sound had come from somewhere else. When he heard another noise, part thud, part footfall, he knew he wasn't wrong; his heart began to pound. He snapped the flashlight off and stared at top of the staircase. The murmur of voices suddenly reached his ears and he thought he could see the faint glow of a powerful flashlight, bouncing slightly and growing brighter as someone mounted the stairs. Voices meant more than one person had arrived; this was not good.

Instinctively, he reached for his left hip and touched the grip of the .38, reassuring himself that, in his rush to leave the house, he had remembered to bring it. He had to hide, and he had to do it fast, but his options were very limited at the moment. He was standing in the hallway between the entrances to the kitchen and the first bedroom; other than the old sofa, there was nothing to hide behind in the bedroom and the only refuge the kitchen offered was the lower cupboards, but that would be too noisy and probably one of the first places they would look.

Moving quickly but silently, he took the few long steps to the office, holding his breath as he snapped on the flashlight for a beat to reacquaint himself with the layout. He briefly considered hiding in the well of the desk but realized the office might be where they were heading.

He stepped quickly but silently back into the hallway and retraced his steps to the first bedroom. The door was half-open and he slipped behind it, flattening himself against the wall and hoping in the non-existent light he wouldn't be discovered, at least not right away. He closed his eyes and started to breathe soundlessly through his mouth, trying to slow his pounding heart, trying to concentrate on the approaching menace.

The murmur of the voices came closer, and through the gap in the door he could see the first very faint glow from the flashlight beams bouncing along the floor as the strangers reached the top of the stairs.

"But I don't want to kill him," was the first coherent thing he heard. His blood turned cold. He recognized Carol Stayner's voice, but instead of the laughter and joy he remembered, she sounded heartsick and scared.

"Well, you didn't leave us much choice now, did you?" The second voice was male, deep and angry. And Steve knew instinctively it was Brother Samuel.

"I'm sorry, but I told you, I panicked. He found the baseball bat."

"Well, why the hell was the closet open in the first place?" They were coming closer.

"I told you, I was working and I opened it to put one of the cardigans on. I was cold."

"So why didn't you close and lock it when you left?"

"I never thought he would come up here. He was probably just looking for nails." Her voice had taken on a melancholic tone and it actually cracked with emotion.

There was a brief pause; they were standing in the hallway, barely six feet away from him, and he held his breath.

"I like him, Ben. He's a very nice man…"

"Well, you should've thought of that before you hit him," Brother Samuel said matter-of-factly. "He's a cop, and I doubt he's stupid. We don't have a choice." There was a tense pause. "You know that, right?"

All the blood drained from Steve's face and bit his lip as his entire body began to shake. He heard Carol's soft sob then her quiet, "Yes, I know."

There was a rustle of clothing, and a soft moan, and Steve knew the siblings were sharing a hug. Then the deep voice said softly, "You know what to do."

He heard Carol exhale loudly then one of them started to move away. When Carol's spoke again, her voice was slightly further away, like she was moving towards the living room. "It's cold in here," she said almost idly then caught her breath.

Steve closed his eyes and froze; he had left the window open. He held his breath and waited, knowing what was coming next.

"Ben…" he heard her call almost breathlessly.

Brother Samuel, who had obviously moved into the office, stepped back into the hallway. "What?"

"Ben, come in here." Carol's voice sounded scared and far away, like things were becoming more and more out of her control.

"What is it?" he growled as he stomped down the hallway and Steve strained to hear what was going on.

A long silence followed, and Steve could feel his heart pounding again. He could envisage Benjamin Sykes, more than likely a murderous street priest, staring at the open window, then looking out and finding the ladder, and knowing someone was in the building. His left hand snaked back to the grip of his Smith & Wesson, and he touched it like a talisman once more, hoping he wouldn't have to use it but knowing he would, if only as a last resort.