Found and Lost by Amanda G. Stevens Page B

rigidness betrayed her. She was scared or angry; he’d know which if he could face her for a second and read her eyes.
    He pulled in a breath of stagnant storeroom air and sighed. Khloe’s hostility was no secret to anyone in the room, not after the phone fiasco. Violet … What was in her head? She’d pulled her phone out first, but then she’d put it away. Maybe she was paying attention.
    â€œWho else wants to read?” Janelle said.
    â€œPick me.” Phil grinned and shifted his seat on the cool tile.
    They each passed the Bible along until it rested in Phil’s hands. His forehead crinkled as he searched, and the hoop in his left eyebrow stood at attention. “Here we go. This is from Isaiah. I love Messianic prophecies. They make you all in awe when you think about how many years this was before Jesus was born.”
    Messianic prophecy? Really? Natalia needed to hear something simple, something easily applied to her. Okay, stop. The Bible’s the Bible, right? And he’d brought his family here to hear the Bible. Which he wasn’t even listening to. Focus.
    â€œâ€˜But he was wounded for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned—every one—to his own way; and the L ORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all.’”
    Natalia’s discreet nudge conveyed her opinion of that passage. Clay elbowed her in return. Just listen.
    â€œYou want to read something, babe?” Phil held the Bible out to his wife still open, as if one wrong move could crumble it to dust.
    â€œI wouldn’t know where to start,” Felice said.
    Violet shifted her purse to her other side, out of Khloe’s reach, and slid her phone into the pocket of her jeans. Next to her, Khloe leaked irritation like a sieve. What, had she tried to use Violet’s phone after Nat took hers? Disappointment closed Clay’s eyes. I finally got them to come here. To hear the Bible. Wasn’t God supposed to act in this circumstance, somehow illuminate Himself?
    â€œMaybe we could talk about what we’ve read so far,” Janelle said. “Does anybody want to say something or ask—?”
    Bang-bang-bang.
    The pounding on the door petrified Clay’s body like an ancient tree, living tissues turned to stone.
    â€œMPC, open up!”
    Instantly, they all ceased to be people, became instead a ball of panic winding ever more tightly into itself. Frozen to the floor. Rounded, darting eyes. Then whispers pinged off the cinder block walls.
    â€œWe should’ve moved the location months ago, when—”
    â€œBut how do they know we’re—?”
    Keep speculating, imbeciles, until they kick in the door. Meanwhile, Clay would do what he did best.
    Run.
    He’d already sprung to his feet. Survival instinct. He zipped across the room and tore down the black curtain that blocked light from the tiny window near the basement ceiling. He pried at the window. Come on! It fell open and left a stripe of rust across his palms. His wife’s hand clutched the back of his shirt and trembled.
    â€œMaybe they didn’t surround the building.” He interlaced his fingers and bent down to form a step.
    Janelle’s voice filtered through the roar of adrenaline. “That’s right, hurry up, and don’t make a sound.”
    Natalia’s tiny sandaled foot hopped into the cradle of his hands. She leveraged herself up into the window with both hands and shimmied her way into the night.
    â€œJ-Janelle?”
    Felice’s shaky voice forced Clay to turn and look. Janelle had started up the stairs.
    â€œSomebody’s got to keep them out,” Janelle whispered, “and I own the place.”
    â€œYou have to come with us!” Phil said aloud.
    â€œWithout a diversion, they’ll get us all. If I