Chapter 8 - The Counterattack
The boys ran to the top of the staircase, looking down at me in confusion.
"What's wrong?" Evan shouted.
"Marcus is the bad guy!" I yelled, grabbing a heavy wooden chair from the foyer and dragging it toward the basement door.
"Get to the panic room, now!"
But Evan didn't run.
He looked at Caleb, and a wicked, synchronized gleam appeared in their eyes.
"No," Evan said.
"This is our house."
Before I could stop them, the boys went into full combat mode.
Caleb ran to the second-floor bathroom and returned with a massive bucket of soapy mop water.
Just as Marcus burst through the basement door, rubbing his red, tearing eyes, Caleb dumped the entire bucket down the grand staircase.
The marble stairs instantly became a slip-and-slide of death.
Marcus charged toward the stairs, stepped on the first soapy marble step, and his feet flew entirely out from under him.
He crashed backward, tumbling down three steps and slamming his head hard against the banister.
"Now, Noah!" Evan yelled.
Noah, the seven-year-old, stood at the top landing and unleashed his weapon.
A massive bucket of tightly packed glass marbles.
Hundreds of marbles bounced and clattered down the wooden stairs, flooding the foyer floor.
Marcus tried to stand up, cursing violently, but the moment his boots hit the marble-covered floor, he went down again, crashing into a heavy antique table.
"Luke, the alarm!" Caleb cheered.
The youngest boy sprinted to the wall and smashed his small fist into the red emergency fire alarm button.
The deafening sirens blared instantly.
Red lights flashed everywhere.
Marcus groaned on the floor, trying to crawl toward the front door.
I grabbed the heavy metal fireplace poker from the living room and stood over him, my heart hammering in my chest.
"Don't move a muscle," I warned, aiming the sharp iron point at his chest.
Suddenly, the front doors burst open.
Adrian Vale stood there, flanked by six loyal guards with assault rifles.
He took one look at the soapy stairs, the hundreds of marbles on the floor, and his head of security bleeding at my feet.
"I leave for two hours," Adrian sighed, stepping carefully over the marbles.
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"And you children destroy my house again."
But this time, he was smiling.
