The worst possible outcome pops into my head as I reach the door of the old shed, and I grab out my 9mm from the waist bands of my black leggings. As I lift the gun up into position I flick the safety off and step through the door, keeping the gun at eye level as I do so; but no one is here. I race to the open hatch in the floor and jump down, landing hard on my heels, which sends a jerk of pain through my body causing me to stumble backward, smashing my back against the ladder. f**k! You i***t! I silently scold myself. I bring my gun up again – thank god it didn't go off when I jumped - and point the muzzle of the gun around the room, while placing my shaky finger over the trigger.
Cautiously I make my way to the open vault door... but as I get closer, I can hear a muffled noise. It alm
