Zack knocked a section away from the handle, carefully reached inside, slid the lever up, and pushed the door to the right. More glass cascaded to the floor, but he ignored it and stepped inside.

He was thankful Sam hadn’t turned on the lights, and that his natural night vision remained active. His mind took a snapshot of the carnage even as he moved to his left toward the staircase at the far end of the room.

Sam was above him, frozen, the shotgun held in both hands but her head turned to the right. Remember, she doesn’t know it’s you. The only way this works is if you fool them both.

Zack’s footsteps crunched across the shards of glass before leaving streaks of mud across the family room carpet. Sorry, gang, but the dirt’s probably the last thing you’ll see when you guys get home, he thought as he looked at the dead gunman, facedown at the bottom of the stairs, blood thickening on the nap of the carpet. He was pretty sure that luxury carpet or not, the stain protector wasn’t rated for blood and bone.

He heard voices from upstairs as he started working his way up. Sam was looking to her right down a hallway to which Zack had no line of sight. Keep talking, kid. Keep him distracted for as long as you can. She’d placed the shotgun at her feet and stepped away from the railing.

Zack reached the landing and started moving toward Sam, praying to all the gods that she wouldn’t look at him until it was too late. Even if she did, he hoped the darkness might cloak his features. Only a few more seconds.

He was only a few feet away from the hallway, and he heard a voice order Sam to turn away toward the railing, which was exactly what Zack had needed. As Sam turned away from him and to her left, Zack spoke up in a muffled voice.

“It’s clear out here, but the bastard in the woods . . . got my partner. I took one to the vest . . . in the back. I’ve got her in my crosshairs,” he finished, and waited. Zack Chambers felt a calmness wash over him, and he knew with an undeniable certainty that the ruse would work.

Sam’s head turned toward him, and Zack held up his right finger to his lips, hoping she’d see the gesture and hold her tongue. The silence that followed stretched across a dark eternity, but Zack remained still. His hands were empty, and the MPX was slung across his back.

“Roger. Coming out. Secure the shotgun. She knows how to use it.”

“Roger that.”

Zack stepped closer as if moving toward Sam. The black barrel of the shooter’s rifle emerged from the hallway immediately in front of him.