“You’re gonna need a mask,” Frank held a respirator mask out to her, with plastic googly eyes and enormous metal air filter it was the stuff of alien movies.
He nodded and held it out.
Keira accepted it meekly and slid it on, the elastic strap catching in her hair; smiling, Frank reached out and untwisted the strap, and tightened it to her face. Then fit his own. His voice was muffled, sounding far away, like under water. He nodded at her, “So the sledgehammer’s still in the basement, right?”
She glanced around the kitchen, nothing. She must have dropped it in her panic. Flashlight was gone too.
Frank unclipped a small flashlight from his belt, and nodded at her. “Doesn’t hurt to have a backup, does it?”...
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