The three crowded into the kitchen, keeping low as they put the walls between themselves and the front door. Noah pressed his back against the counter, spear held tightly in one hand while he tried to think.
"We can't stay here," Levy whispered. "She's got a gun, and apparently she's not worried about putting holes through things. I don't know about y'all, but I like the amount of holes I have right now."
Sage rolled her eyes and glanced toward the hallway. "The windows?"
"Too exposed," Noah replied. "And we don't know if there's anyone else outside."
Levy looked around the kitchen, searching for another option. "Back door?"
She deadpanned. "We're in an apartment."
"Shit, right."
Another muted crack echoed from the foyer.
Noah looked toward the damaged front door. They couldn't stay here indefinitely, but rushing the shooter would be just as stupid. They needed a way to either get her to lower the weapon or create enough of a distraction to escape.
