Chapter Sixty
The Anderson Family Home
Portland, Maine
Liesel crouched behind the island, one arm wrapped tightly around Clara, the other cradling the back of the woman’s head, shielding her from what was unfolding just feet away. Liesel wasn’t armed, and she cursed herself for it. She scanned the counter and spotted a butcher knife.
She heard Caspian shout, and she craned her neck to look. He had reached Elizabeth.
On the deck, Nelson was down, but he was alive and dragging himself toward the open door leading to the kitchen. Clara must have seen him, too, because she screamed.
Beyond Nelson, Liesel saw Richard Anderson.
He had a pistol in his hands, and for one moment, Richard’s eyes locked with hers.
In them, Liesel saw no panic, only iron resolve.
The will to protect. The will to do whatever was necessary to protect his family.
The will to die, if that’s what it came to.
She watched Richard as he surged up and fired his gun.
Then, Liesel heard Caspian groan, and she snapped her head toward him. For a heartbeat she’d thought he’d gone down, but no, he was still standing.
But Richard wasn’t. He was now splayed across the deck, next to Nelson, who was on his knees.
Liesel didn’t hesitate. She knew what she had to do.
“Stay there!” she shouted to Clara.
And without waiting for a reply, she rose from cover and ran toward the deck.
She didn’t think. She just acted. She charged through the open doors, her eyes locked on the Colt .
45 near Richard’s motionless hand. She dove forward and snatched the pistol just as three sharp cracks echoed through the yard.
Liesel didn’t know the exact position of the shooter, but she knew that if she stayed low, the height of the deck would block the shooter’s angle of attack.
Unless they’re already climbing the stairs . . .
Liesel fired blindly toward the stairs several times. It wasn’t about hitting anything; it was about buying Nelson enough time to get inside.
“Stay low! Go! Go! Go!” she screamed at him as he moved forward on elbows and knees.