Page 241 of Things We Hide from the Light
“Are you gonna stop screwing around, KingSchlong, and help us kill these ogres, or am I gonna need to use my stunner spell on you again?”
It was a child’s voice. From the sound of it, an annoying child.
“My name is Lina Solavita and I’m being held at gunpoint by Tate Dilton and Duncan Hugo at Red Dog Farm in Knockemout,Virginia,” I whispered into the mic as I hustled down the aisle between the stalls.
The doorknob jiggled behind me and then there was a loud thud.
I sprinted to the end of the dark room and ran into a chest-high wooden wall, knocking the wind out of myself.
“Ow. Fuck,” I wheezed.
“Is this real?” a snotty prepubescent voice demanded.
“It’s probably just KingSchlong messing with us, Brecklin,” another kid said.
“Listen,Brecklin, do your parents know you’re playing online video games with a criminal?” I hissed as I got back to my feet.
Another loud thud came from the far end of the room, accompanied by the splintering of wood. It sounded an awful lot like a body trying to break down a door.
He was coming and I didn’t have time to find a way out. My only option was to hide as long as I could before making my stand here.
“Narc,” a kid muttered in my ear.
“Oh my God. I swear to you on Justin Bieber or Billie Eilish or whoever you’re into, I’m telling the truth. I need one of you to call 911now.”
There was another loud thump and more wood gave way.
A loud bing-bong noise in the headset startled me.
“Jesus. What the hell was that?” I whispered.
“Chill out, lady. WittyInPink just joined our quest,” Brecklin said.
“I’ll chill outafter you call 911!”
“Lina?”
The familiar voice almost brought tears to my eyes. “Waylay?”
“Where are you?”
“I’m close. Are you safe? Is Naomi safe? What the hell are you doing on here?”
“After Uncle Nash called and asked me what Duncan Hugo’s username was, I figured I might be able to help find him through the game.”
“Waylay, you beautiful little genius! I’m very, very proud of you and also you’re probably in huge amounts of trouble.”
“Yeah. I figured,” she said, sounding bored by the concept.
“Listen to me, you need to call your uncle Nash and tell him that Duncan Hugo is sending Tate Dilton to your house to…”
How was I supposed to tell a twelve-year-old someone wanted to murder her?
“To take out me and Aunt Naomi?” she guessed.
“Whoa,” one of the other kids gasped.
This time when Hugo hit the door, broken pieces of wood fell to the floor.
