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Her dark eyes have a similar gleam to that of a bird of prey as they seem to momentarily pin each of them in place. “I got in touch with the station—they’re sending someone out here now, but it might take a minute. So would everyone just calm the hell down?”

At the harshness of her words, even the barking outside pauses.

Jane knows this is supposed to be good news, and yet there is no bright relief to outweigh the uncertainty fueling the group’s limbs and tongues; if anything, she can see the words fill up the others with a greater desire to leave, like a green light flashing go.

“Alright then. Help is coming, and the police will get all this sorted,” Evan says first, bending down to pick up a discarded bag of groceries from the ground. He nudges his wife toward the door. “Ashley, let’s go, honey.”

“Right behind you,” says Thomas.

As he grabs hold of Jane’s arm and tugs, her legs lock firmly in place. “Maybe we should just wait for the police to come first,” she suggests, unable to shake the eerie press of unease kissing the back of her neck. “We could just wait a little bit longer, Thomas? Just a little bit longer, please,” she adds, hating herself for asking him for anything, but it’s like her body is mutinying at the sight of the deepening darkness stretching between the store and her car.

“For the love of God, Jane,” he says, tossing his head back with the same exasperation as when Cassie called in the car earlier. “I promise you, there is no monster or devil incarnate or whatever the hell else waiting for us out there.” He turns and flips the lock on the front door before grabbing the handle. “There is nothing out—”

A screech shatters through the air, shrill and grating against the fall of night.

It freezes everyone in place, so that seconds pass where they only toss glances at each other to confirm what they’ve just heard is actually real. Jane opens her mouth to speak, but the screech rings out loudly again, close enough that it feels like razors are being raked down her ears.

“What was that?” Ashley whispers, while her husband slaps a hand over his mouth, looking ready to be sick again.

Jim drags his hands up through his thinning hair, pulling so hard it looks like he’ll rip it out straight from the root. He squeezes his face up tight, shifting from side to side in a nervous dance. “I told you, you sons of bitches, I told you!”

The dog’s barking starts up again, turning vicious and threatening as dull footsteps thump along the pavement outside. Jackson runs to the door, cupping his hands around his eyes to peer out at the darkened parking lot.

“I can’t see anything,” he says. The calm, soothing tenor of his voice is now laced with all the panic of a child telling their parents there’s a monster in the closet. “Does anyone have a weapon on them?”

“I’ve got a Taser,” says Ashley before fishing around in her handbag and pulling out a hot-pink block.

Jane pulls out the car keys from her back pocket, where a new tube of pepper spray is attached, looking small and useless in the palm of her hand as she peers around at the others. Kimi unhooks a pocketknife from her jeans beneath the hem of her Henley shirt, flicking the tiny blade open.

“Well, as long as it’s a nice purse snatcher,” Thomas mutters, pressing against the glass the same way Jackson did. He squints out into the darkness with drawn eyebrows. “The lot looks empty to me,” he says.

“It doesn’t sound empty,” says Ashley.

Jane fixes her grip around the pepper spray, eyeing the piece of plastic to flick to the side before use. She’s practiced the motions of yanking it out and aiming more times than she cares to admit over the past several weeks, though now any semblance of security it previously provided seems to dissolve around her in its own fine mist.

“There’s a shotgun in the truck,” Jim admits, shuffling and fidgeting his hands. “It might as well belong to that thing out there now, though.”

Ashley leaves Evan’s side, pushing closer toward the glass until her large baby bump nearly presses against it. “Maybe we’re safe in here?”

“Sure,” Thomas scoffs. “The torn-apart body on the floor is extra reassuring.”

Jane meets Jackson’s anxious gaze, seeing the tension in his shoulders rise further as his dog’s defensive barking continues from outside. “How long did you say until the police get here?” he asks Kimi.

The cashier wipes a hand down her face, smearing her heavily lined eyes. The worry lines across her forehead appear to be a familiar visitor. “A pine just went down at the top of Pleasant Road about fifteen minutes ago. There’s no getting around it until it’s cleared out,” she tells them.

“What does that mean?” says Evan, drawing Ashley back to him. He leaves one hand braced on his wife’s stomach, the other gripped around her shoulder, and for a split second Jane swears there is a flash of contempt in the woman’s eyes.

Kimi looks down at the blade of her pocketknife, sighing as she closes it. “It means help isn’t coming for a while.”

Outside, the barking suddenly turns into small, frightened whimpers. Jackson drops his hands to his sides, beginning to pace as the sounds persist in a pitiful song.

“I’ll go get the gun,” he says finally. “I still don’t see anything outside, and Winnie will make a racket if something starts coming my way.”

The fear in the air expands inside Jane, creeping up her throat so that her breath comes out thin and flimsy. “But we don’t know if it’s safe out there,” she says, sliding her arms up around herself. “That noise sounded really close.”

Jackson flashes a small forced smile. “I can be quiet,” he answers before looking over at Jim. “Where do I need to look for the gun?”

The older man gives another tired laugh, shaking his head. “The doors are unlocked. It’s wedged behind the seat,” he says, wiping his hands down the front of his faded jeans. “There’s an extra box of shells in the glove compartment. But, son, it’s your funeral, I’m telling ya.”