Charlotteleapsto her feet, her arm bleeding.
“No! Don’t do it!”
Meghan spins, the gun now pointed onher.
Atticus lunges, scooping up the bloody fire poker in both hands.
Crack!
The gun fires just as the red hot iron stabs into Meghan’s gut.
She stumbles.
Charlotte screams.
Meghan turns, wild eyed, arm lifting again. This time, toward Atticus.
Finally,my ankle ropes give. I kick out with everything I have, slamming into Meghan’s hip. She crashes into the coffee table, rolling over it, gun skittering across the floor.
I yank at the slack on my wrists, grinding through pain as I free one hand, fumbling with the other.
But Meghan’s already up again, staggering forward, gun back in hand. She lifts her arm to point it at Charlotte—
Charlotte screams and throws herself forward, headbutting Meghan in the chest.
They slam to the ground, wrestling. Grunting. Clawing for the gun inches away.
Atticus vanishes, overwhelmed or hiding.
I break free just as Meghan gets the upper hand. She straddles Charlotte, panting, now clutching the gun once more.
Charlotte’s eyes go wide with terror.
Charlotte squeals.
Wilbur squeals.
Wilbur?
The front door hangs open. Atticus stands there, hand on the knob.
Wilbur’s entry point.
The pig snarls, a blur of muscle and fury. He latches onto Meghan’s shoulder with his massive jaws, protecting Charlotte.
Meghan shrieks in pure, primal agony. The gun, still clutched in her hand, sprays bullets, the lead tearing into drywall and ceiling as the pig mauls her alive.
I don’t wait.
IgrabCharlotte, yanking her to me so fast her arm pops.
She gasps in pain,but I don’t stop.
I wrap her in my arms and rush out to shield her from it, making sure Atticus follows, preventing them from lingering on the sight, the sounds, the absolutehorror.
Chapter 50
Charlotte
