No Sanctuary
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The sound of breaking glass shocked Rhonda Bain awake. She went rigid on the bed and stared at the dark ceiling.
She told herself it wasn’t someone breaking into the house; a framed picture or a mirror had fallen off one of the walls.
She didn’t believe it.
Someone had smashed a window. She’d heard glass hitting a floor, so it was the kitchen window; the other rooms had carpet.
Rhonda imagined herself bolting from the bedroom, racing for the front door. But as she rushed past the kitchen, a dark shape would lurch out and grab her.
I can’t just lie here and wait for him!
She flung the sheet aside, sat up, snapped her head toward the bedroom window. The curtains were open, stirring slightly in the breeze. She shivered and clenched her teeth, but not because of the mild night air on her bare skin.
I’ve gotta get out of here!
The window was no good. The damn thing was louvered. There wouldn’t be time to pull out enough slats, remove the screen and climb through. If she barricaded the bedroom door and smashed an opening with a chair ...