Monica frowned at him. "Oliver said we could have her when it's over."
"Yeah, when it's over. Which isn't now, so back the hell off!"
She shot him the finger, then stepped back to let Claire move past her. Claire did it as slowly as she could, manufacturing a crying jag and some shaking that, once started, felt too real to stop.
"See?" Monica said over her shoulder to Jennifer. "Told you she was a punk."
Claire doubled over, moaning, and very deliberately puked all over Monica's shoes. That was all it took.
Monica screamed in horror and slapped her, Gina grabbed her, Jennifer stepped away, and Richard, confused by all the sudden girl fighting, took a couple of steps back so he wouldn't put a bullet in the wrong one.
"Hey!" Shane's voice, loud and angry. He was on the stairs, looking through the railing at them. "Enough already. I'll give you the damn book. Just leave them alone."
"Not fair," Monica muttered, glaring at him. He glared right back, looking like he'd take back that hitting-a-girl rule, just once. Gladly. "Richard, shoot him."
"No," Richard said wearily. "I'm a cop. I only shoot who I'm told to shoot, and you aren't the chief."
"Well, I will be. One day."
"Then I'll shoot him when you are," he said. "Shane, right? Get up here."
"Let them walk out of here first."
"Not going to happen, so just get your ass up here before I decide I don't need either one of them."
Richard cocked the gun for emphasis. Shane slowly came up to the top of the steps and stopped.
"Where is it?"
"The book? It's safe. And it's someplace you'll never get it if you piss me off, Dick."
Richard fired the gun. Everybody - even Monica - screamed, and Claire looked down at herself in shock.
He'd missed. There was a smoking round hole in Michael's door.
Oh. He hadn't missed.
"Kid," Richard said wearily, "I am not in the mood. I haven't slept in thirty-six hours, my sister's crazy - "
"Hey!" Monica protested.
" - and you're not my high school crush - "
"He is not my high school crush, Richard!"
"The point is, I couldn't give a crap about you, your friends, or your problems, because for me this isn't personal. Monica will kill you because she's nuts. I'll kill you because you make me kill you. Are we straight?"
"Well," Shane said, "that's kind of a personal question."
Richard aimed directly at Claire. It wasn't much of a change, but she definitely felt it, like being in the center of the spotlight instead of just on the edges, and she heard Shane say, "Dude, I'm kidding, all right? Kidding!"
She didn't dare blink, or move her eyes away from the gun. If she could just keep staring at it, somehow, that would keep him from shooting her. She knew that didn't make sense, but...
In her side vision she saw Shane reach behind his back and pull out a book. Black leather cover. Oh no.
He's really going to...he can't. Not after all this. Although she didn't have any answers for how he was supposed to avoid it, either.
Shane held up his left hand, showing it empty, and held out the black Bible with his right.
"That's it?" Richard asked.
"Swear to God."
"Monica. Take it."
She did, scowling at Shane. "You are not my high school crush, idiot."
"Great. I can die happy, then."
"I'm shooting the next person who talks who isn't my sister," Richard said. "Monica?"
She opened the Bible. "There's a hole in it. And another book." She stopped, staring at the inside. "Oh my God. It really is. I thought for sure she was bullshitting us."
"She knows better. Let me see."
Monica tilted the open Bible toward him, and Claire's last faint hope went away, because yes, that was the cover, with its scratchy home-engraved symbol.
Shane had done it. He'd given it up.
Somehow she'd expected better.
"So. We're square, right?" Shane asked tensely. "No shooting or anything."
Richard reached out, took the Bible from Monica, and flipped it close to tuck it under one arm. "No shooting," he agreed. "I meant what I said. I'll only kill you if you make me. So thanks, I really didn't need the paperwork."
He walked past Shane to the stairs, and started down.
"Hey, wait!" Shane said. "Want to take your psycho sister with you?"
Richard stopped and sighed. "Right. Monica? Let's go."
"I don't want to," she said. "Oliver told me I could have them."
"Oliver's not here, and I am, and I'm telling you that we have to go. Right now." When she didn't move, he looked back. "Now. Move, unless you want to fry."
She blew Claire and Shane a mocking kiss. "Yeah. Enjoy the barbecue!"
She followed her brother down. Gina went after, and that just left Jennifer standing there, looking oddly helpless even with a knife in her hands.
She bent over and put it on the floor, held up her hands, and said, "Monica set a fire. You should get out while you can, and run like hell. It probably won't help, but - I'm sorry."
And then she was gone. Shane stared after them for a frozen second, then moved over to kneel next to Eve. "Hey. You okay?"
"Taking a nap," Eve said. "I thought maybe if I stayed down, you'd have it easier." She sounded shaky, though. "Help me up."
Shane and Claire each took a hand and pulled her up; she swayed woozily. "Did I get that right? You actually handed it over?"
"You know what? I did. And it kept you guys alive, so there you go. Hate me." He was going to say something else, but then stopped and frowned and nodded down the hallway.
There was a thin thread of smoke curling out from underneath the door of Claire's bedroom.
"Oh my God!" she gasped, and ran for it; the knob was hot. She instantly let go and backed away. "We have to get out of here!"
"Like they're going to let us go?" Shane asked. "And no way am I letting this house burn. What about Michael? He can't leave!"
She hadn't even thought of that, and it hit her hard. Michael was trapped. Would he die if the house burned? Could he? "Fire trucks!" she yelled. "There are fire trucks outside - "
"Yeah, to keep everything else from going up," Eve said. "Trust me. This is their easy answer. The Glass House goes up in flames, along with all their problem kids. Nobody's going to help us!"