Read Online House by Frank Peretti - Free Book Online

said. “We’ll assign guard posts and hold him off until someone finds our cars—”
    Right. Nobody’s going to die. Everything’s going to be all right. Always all right . . .
    A distant thumping. Some creaking. All eyes went toward the ceiling.
    â€œHe’s still up there,” Leslie said with a side look at Randy. “He’s still on the roof.”
    Randy pumped the shotgun once.
    â€œWhy the roof ?” Jack asked. “Why the roof when any window on the main floor would be easy enough to break through? This guy has to be following a plan.”
    Then came a sound: a weird, tinny rattling like a soda can falling down a narrow well, careening, pinging, and clinking off the sides. It was close, maybe in the room. Stephanie ducked and swiveled, her hands raised to protect her head. Randy swept the room with the shotgun, making Jack and Stewart duck.
    â€œPete?” Leslie said, her voice tight with alarm.
    â€œNo,” Betty said.
    Poof. Something landed in the fireplace, sending up a little cloud of ash. It bounced onto the hearth, rolled forward with a gritty, metallic sound, and came to rest inches from the edge.
    Jack brought his lamp closer. Betty approached it.
    â€œDon’t touch it,” Stephanie said.
    Betty leaned in for a closer look. “You’re right, writer boy. He doesn’t want in.”
    Jack reached down and picked it up.
    It was an old soup can, the label faded and half-gone, the print now obscured by a bold message scrawled in black marker. Jack sat on the hearth, set down the lamp, and rotated the can as he read aloud:
    Welcome to my house.
House rules:
1. God came to my house and I killed him.
2. I will kill anyone who comes to my house as I killed God.
3. Give me one dead body, and I
might let rule two slide.
Game over at dawn.
    He passed the can to Randy, who read the message to himself. Stephanie began to shake. Leslie touched her arm, and this time, Stephanie took her hand.
    Above them, the sound of boot heels crossed the roof, descended the back side, and then stepped off.
    Silence.

7

10:27 pm
    STEPHANIE WAS THE LAST ONE TO HOLD THE can, rotating it back and forth as she read the message several times over. Jack could hear her quick breaths. “Does he mean . . . ?”
    â€œIt means he’s one sick character,” Randy said, scanning the room like a sentry.
    â€œIt’s psychological,” Leslie said. “He’s playing a mind game.”
    â€œExcept for the dead people,” Randy replied, nodding toward the newspaper on the hearth.
    â€œBut that’s impossible.” Leslie looked at Randy, then Jack, then Stephanie. “He doesn’t actually expect us to kill each other.”
    â€œNot each other.” Randy snatched the can from Stephanie and read it one more time. “Just one.”
    Jack favored Leslie’s theory. “I think he wants to divide us, get us at each other’s throats.”
    Betty cackled low.
    â€œSomething funny?” Randy asked.
    â€œThat’ll be easy enough,” she said.
    Randy leaned toward her. “You’re speaking for yourself, of course?”
    â€œWe’ll find out, won’t we?”
    â€œWhat is it with you?”
    Jack extended his hand, not touching either of them, just enough to slip in a word. “Hey, come on. We don’t have to play his game. We can choose.”
    â€œHoooo!” Betty hooted, twisting her neck to look up at him. “Listen to you. ”
    Leslie brought her wristwatch closer to the lamp. “Ten thirty. Dawn’s at six. That gives us seven and a half hours.”
    â€œSix seventeen, to be precise.” Everyone looked at Stewart. He shrugged. “I have an interest in these things.”
    Randy snorted. “I won’t need that long. I’m ending this right now.” He grabbed the lamp off the hearth and strode toward the foyer, shotgun in hand.
    Betty took a seat on one of the