Shattered Glass

It wasn't a sound. It was a pressure wave. The floor-to-ceiling window facing the driveway shattered inward, turning into a storm of diamond-sharp shards.

Floodlights blinded them from the dunes.

* Crack. Crack. Crack.*

Bullets tore through the drywall, shredding the expensive art, pulverizing the plaster.

"Get down!" Dario screamed.

He tackled Maya, knocking her behind the heavy kitchen island.

The wind howled into the house, carrying snow and the smell of ozone. The temperature dropped instantly. The sanctuary was gone. The Glass House was a wind tunnel.

"They found us," Dario gasped. He had his gun out. He checked the magazine. "The Feds?"

"No," Maya said, wiping glass dust from her face. "The black SUV. The cousins."

Dario cursed. He peeked over the counter and fired two shots blindly toward the broken window. Return fire chewed up the marble countertop inches from his face.

"We can't stay here," Dario yelled over the wind. "They'll flank us!"

"The back stairs," Maya said. "To the beach. The tide is low. We can run under the pilings."

"Can you run?"

Maya looked at him. She hated him. She loved him. She didn't want to die.

"Move," she said.

Dario grabbed the duffel bag. Of course. He wouldn't leave the money.

They crawled toward the rear exit. The house was disintegrating around them. A mirror shattered. A vase exploded. It was a symphony of destruction.

They burst out the back door onto the deck. The cold was shocking, a physical blow. The ocean roared below, black and white foam.

"Jump!" Dario yelled.

They vaulted over the railing, landing in the soft, frozen sand of the dunes.