Shocking Pink by Erica Spindler

bag on the counter. “Get real, girl. Whoever’s using this house is a flesh-and-blood human being.”
    Which made it all the more scary, as far as Andie was concerned. She crossed to the gently humming refrigerator, opened it and peered inside, squinting at the sudden light. A bottle of wine and a six-pack of beer, some cheese and a bunch of grapes.
    Raven peered over her shoulder and grinned. “Beer?”
    “Oh no you don’t. If you take one, they’ll know we were in here.”
    “So what?” Raven reached around her. “It’s not like they’ll know it was us who—” She stopped, frowning. “What’s that rumbling sound? It’s kind of like—”
    They all froze, as if realizing simultaneously what it was. The automatic garage door. Opening.
    “Oh shit.” Andie looked at her friends. A door opened then slammed. A car door. “What do we do?”
    “Hide,” Raven managed to say, her voice a frightened croak. “Now!”
    Andie looked wildly around, her heart in her throat. She grabbed Julie’s hand and darted for the walk-in pantry door. She pushed Julie inside, then ducked in behind her, not having time to get the door completely shut before a man entered the kitchen.
    Andie held the knob to keep the door steady, her heart hammering nearly out of control. Cracked open about an inch, she was able to watch the man’s progress.
    He didn’t turn on a light, so she couldn’t make out his face or features, only that he was tall, dark-haired and dressed casually. He went to the refrigerator and opened it. Light flooded the dark kitchen, though his back was to her. A moment later she heard the pop and hiss of a can being opened. He was drinking beer. Thank God they hadn’t taken one. He would have known they were here.
    He shut the fridge and turned, staring straight at the pantry. He stood unmoving a moment, his eyes seeming to meet hers. Her heart stopped; he started toward her.
    Fear exploded inside her. Andie held her breath, dizzy with emotion, certain that her next moment was going to be her last. She squeezed her eyes shut, a bead of sweat rolling down her spine, slipping under the elastic band of her panties.
    Behind her on the floor, Julie stirred. Don’t move, Julie. Don’t breathe.
    The man stopped in front of the pantry door. He reached out. And pushed the door the rest of the way shut. The latch clicked into place.
    He hadn’t discovered them.
    Now they were truly trapped.
    Andie brought a hand to her mouth to hold back her cry of relief and panic. What did they do now? she wondered, shifting slightly so she could see Julie’s face now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness. And where was Raven?
    Julie’s eyes were wide and terrified. Andie felt her friend’s rising hysteria; it mirrored her own. She fought the urge to scream. To just open her mouth and let out a wail of terror, and then run for it. Past the man. The man who had no business being in this house, in this neighborhood. The man who could be anyone. Or anything. A rapist or murderer.
    Instead, Andie held tightly to her control and brought a finger to her lips to signal Julie to be quiet. Her friend nodded and pressed her face to her drawn-up knees.
    The minutes seemed like hours. An eternity. As they ticked past, the pantry became hotter, closer. It was like a tomb, an airless box. Andie began to sweat; the urge to scream, to run, grew. She didn’t know how much longer she would be able to last.
    She counted to ten, then twenty, forcing herself to breathe evenly. She told herself everything would be all right. The pantry was empty. If he didn’t hear them, there should be no reason for him to open the door. As long as they were quiet, they would be okay. So would Raven.
    She closed her eyes, imagining him there in the dark, drinking his beer. Imagined him turning suddenly toward the pantry door, sensing their presence, their panic. The way a predator in the wild does.
    The metallic taste of fear nearly gagged her. She strained to