Escape the Night by Desiree Holt Read Free Book Online Page B

open just a crack. He stood in the darkness listening carefully, wondering what exactly had awakened him. Why the hell were all the lights out? And where the hell was John?
    He moved silently into the hallway, closing the door carefully so the snick of the lock wouldn't carry. Hugging the wall he made his way to the living room, his gun firm in his grip. The light from the television screen flickered in the darkness as images danced across it. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he looked around to see if John had fallen asleep on the couch, or in the big recliner chair. If he had, Gus planned to chew his ass out good. The night sentry wasn't supposed to sleep on the job. But John was nowhere to be seen.
    Still moving like a stealthy cat, Gus checked the dining room, the kitchen, the little room they used for a study where the electronics were set up. Nothing. No John. No sound. The itch that Gus always got on the back of his neck when something was wrong was acting up now as if he'd fallen into a bed of fire ants. The monitor in the study was still working, the screen divided into quadrants, the pages constantly changing as the views from the cameras were fed into it. Gus scanned them quickly, looking for some sign of activity but again there was nothing to see. The yards front and back looked clear. Nothing was moving. Damn! Something woke him up and he wasn't giving up until he figured out what. And where John had disappeared to.
    Hugging the wall again, he carefully slid open the door leading to the back porch. As he did so, something fell inside the house and landed at his feet. He reached down, thinking it was a bundle of something, only to find John Randolph's body draped over his feet.
    Shit!
    He grabbed him by his shirt collar, yanked him inside the house and pushed the door to close it. But before he could secure it someone flew at him, knocking him 45
    Desiree Holt
    backward over John's body. Instinctively he tightened his grip on his gun and lashed out at whoever this was, grunting in satisfaction when he connected with the man's head on the first blow. Gus slammed the barrel of his gun against the man's temple one more time for good measure, then pushed him off his legs and stumbled to his feet. He double checked that the blinds on the kitchen window and the back door were tightly shut, then fished around in a kitchen drawer for the flashlight he knew was kept there. He shone its light first on the intruder, checked to make sure the man was still unconscious, then skimmed over his face. A stranger. No one Gus was familiar with or had even seen a mug shot of.
    Then he turned his attention to John. He felt for a pulse and found none, but the blood on his face and neck from the bullet hole in his temple told the story. How the hell had the stranger gotten onto the property without alerting John? Or had he tripped a silent alarm and sandbagged John when the agent came out to check? The only good thing to come out of this was at least he knew John wasn't working with or for Virgil Branson.
    Digging in John's pockets he dug out two pairs of flex cuffs and bound the intruder's hands and feet. He rifled his pockets looking for any kind of identification, but of course there was nothing. Finally he went back into the study, found the roll of duct tape in the drawer there, went back to the kitchen and taped the stranger's mouth shut.
    Then he made his way back to the bedroom. It was time to wake Anya and get the hell out of there.
    * * * * *
    "What do you mean, how did he bypass security?" Gus ground his teeth in frustration. "How the hell should I know? I wasn't the one on watch."
    He was nearly shouting into the phone at Jimmy. Taking a deep breath, he dialed back his anger and listened to his friend.
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    "I know, I know." Jimmy was trying to calm him, but Gus could hear the tension in his friend's voice that matched his own. "You know what this has to mean, don't you?"
    "That Dean's involved? I'm not