A face appeared at the top of the basement stairs. "What are you doing in there?" "Nothing." God, she loved Leeds, more than life itself, but the man would have to wait. "I’ll be in bed in a minute."
"Well hurry up, love; I don’t have all night."
Vicki allowed herself a smile at the sound of his voice; even after six months, a year, a lifetime together, she would never tire of hearing Leeds talk. Well hurry up, love. It made Vicki melt, but she had to secure the files, save Rabbit, before she could think about anything pleasant.
"Take this." She executed the program. Nothing. The intruders were still there. Vicki looked at the phone anxiously. Damn it, if only Kurt would answer. . .
The doorbell rang, and Vicki jumped; it sounded much like the phone.
"Leeds? Would you mind?"
"No problem." Vicki heard his footsteps from above, the creaking floorboards, the faint echo of his voice.
"Yes? What’s going on. . .it’s so late. . ."
The response was cold. "May I have a word with you, ma’am?" It brought chills to Vicki’s spine; she had to get Leeds out of there, but it was too late, wasn't it, they were already here.
"Come on in."
Nothing. No movement, no floorboards. Then, a scream; a thud.
Shit. She had to get that program done, had to finish it right now. What was the problem? Did she enter something wrong, were the hackers too good? She scanned the lines of coding.
The voices were moving away, upstairs. They wouldn’t stay far for long; they would find her.
They couldn’t find what she’d done.
There. A typo. Now hit "Enter." Good. Now, write an e-mail, you know whom to.
More voices. Getting closer.
Send it to Ray. Now! Make sure you type the address right. Hit enter.
Sent; good. Now the corner. The gasoline. Dump it on the computer; well done. There are matches in your pocket. You know what to do.
Vicki felt her jeans, and removed a book of matches, and struck one on the backside. It flared up, brilliant orange.
She had to drop it. They’d killed Leeds; they couldn’t kill any others. And, if they got to her computer, if they saw what she’d sent. . .what her address was, who had received it. . .then they would. And then they would win everything.
They’d gain Rabbit.
They’d kill all who could possibly defeat them.
Drop the match.
The computer flared up, and Vicki bolted up the basement stairs, flung open the door. A young man stood there, with sandy hair, glasses. She thought he looked like a geek. Until she saw his eyes.
Metal. Silver.
Kurt didn’t know about any others. Kurt was dead.
Now she would be, too.
The man grabbed her shoulders, her head. Twisted.
She fell to the ground.
