"DO YOU SEE THAT?"

"Can you hear them?"

My muscles gained new strength as a result of the feeling of power. "Dave, we've got to get out of..." grabbed Dave's collar.
I stopped in the middle of sentences as I heard voices upstairs. "Excuse me, Sir," said the first voice. "We've had reports of a disturbance out there. Have you heard anything unusual?"
There was a very long silence, and then a deep voice said, "Yes, Officer... Several kids in this room were creating a noise... I came here to make them leave."

"You own this house, Sir?" asked the police officer. I started yelling at the top of my lungs, and the man didn't have a chance to speak. Dave came along for the ride. Jeff startled up, but I was too concerned with speeding up the steps and knocking on the door to see. Dave banged a couple of metal film canisters over, making a loud noise. We didn't hear anything else that was said upstairs.

What we did hear was the following gunfight. Upstairs, two men were bashing into each other's walls. With a thud, one of them landed on the floor. A gunshot was heard, followed by another. Finally, a second body fell to the floor. For a little while, we were all silent, hoping the police officer would be triumphant.

We didn't hear anything. "Officer?" I shouted through the door. I thought I heard a moan. "I... I think I'm hurt..." said a weak voice. "I think... I think..." There was nothing after that. "Officer?!" I shouted again as I pounded on the door. There was no answer. At the bottom of the steps, Jeff and Dave were waiting for me. "We need to get the door open," said Dave. My heart was pounding in the inside of my chest. Dave snatched a metal bar from a shelf and placed it between the metal bars.

He began to push with all of his strength. The tarp that had been duct-taped over the opening developed a small tear. Like a crazy mouse, I started scratching at the thick plastic right away. Jeff picked up another piece of metal and threaded it through the bars in an attempt to get strength. We heard a loud snap followed by something like a groan of bentwood.

The door and a section of its frame lifted just a few inches upwards. The door was being held down by something on top of it. As Jeff and Dave retrain their efforts, I pushed through the bars with my bare hands. Something heavy and metallic tipped over and fell to the ground, and we heard it. I could just about fit my head through the metal door when it opened wider.

A uniformed police officer was standing a short distance. Something was sticking out of the side of his head. It turned out to be a kitchen knife! It was disgusting.

The man's eyes were still open, which was the worst part. He was looking right at me. He still had a gun in his right hand. The big monster of a person on the other side of the room was clutching the wall, trying to lift himself to his feet. He had been shot in the leg and shoulder, as I could tell. He had a serious face.

I stretched out my arm and tried to get the officer's gun, but I couldn't reach it. I pushed my arm to its breaking point, the metal bars pressing into my flesh. My fingertip came into contact with the gun's barrel.

I grabbed a strong grasp on the gun after the dying cop tried to put it closer to me. I suddenly turned my arm and aimed the gun at the imposing figure. The bars made me aim hard. My view of the man was blocked by the metal door by the moment I reached my arm looking in the right direction.

"I've got the gun," I whispered to Dave and Jeff. "The cop's almost dead. He can't help us. The big guy is over there but I can't get a clear shot." How many bullets?" Dave said. "I don't know," I whispered. "Maybe none..." Dave whispered, "we could get under him and try to shoot him through the floor."

We moved closer to the door after hearing the big man groan. I aimed the gun at him and waited for him to appear with bated breath for him to appear.