Five
Phil Daynton slammed his fist into the old wooden studs without thinking.
“Stupid i***t!” he growled. People were still upstairs at the antique store.
He held his breath, as dust filtered down from between the floorboards above him. Amazing they hadn’t discovered him yet.
This was getting old, hiding out. Unbearable.
He’d been down in this moldy, damp basement since the accident.
He and Lex had discovered and explored the hide-out weeks ago. Easy to break into the basement. They’d agreed that if things went bad, they should meet here. Easy to slip in and out for supplies. They’d even stockpiled some snacks and water back then—even a couple bottles of booze—hiding it all under some old, smelly blankets.
He winced as he sipped from the plastic water bottle. Something must be inju
