Page 50 of Shattered Veil

Colton’s voice rang out from Claire’s phone, which rested in her lap in the back seat. “As it should be. What is it, almost four in the morning? Place is ghosty.” He narrated his anticipated movements in a murmur, “Up the stairs, right side of the hall, 2D.”

I watched Colton’s body disappear from view as he trudged his way up the stairs. We all waited for what felt like an excruciatingly long silence, and Zoey voiced:

“Are you sure that feed’s live?”

I kept my eyes glued on the entrance while the rest of the crew in the back seat shifted to the right. Zoey was already practically in Liam’s lap due to lack of space, and she was peering down at his palm. Claire looked over Zoey, Luke looked over Claire, and Cassie spun around from the driver’s seat to glance behind her, stretching her neck in an attempt to see Liam’s phone. Unlike the remainder of the group, it wasn’t visible without her crawling over the center console, and she huffed out a quiet breath through her nostrils as she righted herself back in her seat instead.

“Yeah,” Liam muttered. “’Course.”

“There’s probably a second or two delay on that, big guy,” Colton spoke. “I’m up the stairs.”

I counted out the seconds, and by the time I made it to three, Claire was speaking once more.

“There you are—see you on the feed.”

“Three second delay,” I noted in what came out as a grim tone.

“That was really more like one second,” Cassie remarked. “You must have counted fast.”

“I one Mississippi’d it,” I countered. “It’s three seconds. Three seconds is long.”

“Because counting one Mississippi, two Mississippi is the most reliable way to track time,” Cassie argued.

Luke stated, “Even if there’s a one second delay, it’s fine—”

“Three seconds,” I corrected anxiously. “That’s way longer than you think.”

Cassie griped, “Not a chance in hell that it was three—”

“Christ, you two bicker like a fuckin’ married couple,” Colton complained. “It’s super short. It’s fine. Just keep an eye.”

He could barely finish his last sentence before Zoey exclaimed, “Holy shit, are you…”

“In,” Colton finished for her.

Cassie’s head whipped to the back seat. “Already? How?”

Colton replied, “Shim.”

“It’s like you just swiped your card after buying groceries,” Zoey noted. “That was fast.”

“Quick fingers and muscle memory,” Colton told her with a hint of pride.

“No deadbolt,” Claire whispered in disbelief. “I can’t believe—”

The following sound cut off all of our voices in their tracks.

The wind blew. A wave of snow washed over the windshield. I listened intently, anticipating the noise to stop, but it didn’t. An odd beeping—one that was repetitive in nature, holding a tone for a beat before falling silent only to sound once more—was playing from where Claire sat. The low pitch didn’t seem to be loud nor grating as it emitted from her phone and into our ears. In fact, it was an altogether friendly noise. It felt anything but, though, because the sound insinuated that something was, for lack of a better word, wrong.

“What’s that noise?” Zoey muttered shakily.

I whispered, “Is that an—”

“Alarm,” Colton replied back in a haste. “Fucking motion-sensored bullshit in the entryway.”

“What does an alarm mean?” Cassie asked nervously. “No—no one’s home, so the neighbors may hear some beeping, so what?”

“They could wake up,” Luke said. “Come out to see what’s going on. Could call the cops—”

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