Copyright© 2010 by Michael Wolfam
Liv slammed the red phone into the receiver. She was shaking with rage. She slumped into the office chair and pounded her fists on the metal table. Finn rushed over to console her, but she pushed him away.
She contemplated her options, then stood. There were no tears. Instead, her eyes burned with anger. "That bastard's gonna pay. f$%kers burned down my house. My dad built that house and they f$%king burned it down. And then they tried to kill us! f$%k 'em."
She stormed out of the room, snatching up the bunny slipper decoy along the way. "Bastard's got no manners; he got blood all over my slipper!" She poked a finger through a bullet hole. This time, the dead body lying on the floor at the base of the stairs didn't bother her. Her rage burned brightly, consuming all of her thoughts. She turned and raced back up the stairs.
Finn cautiously followed her. He had never seen her this way. Even after the shadowy group had burned down her house, she had still seemed sweet and good-spirited. That was gone. Murder filled her eyes. Whatever she had heard on the phone changed her.
When they reached the top of the stairs, Liv exchanged the slipper for a lighter in the Go Bag. She stomped over to the gas stove, reached behind it and yanked out a flexible, silver line. "Give me your Strider," she ordered. Finn complied, then rushed up the stairs to look for anything that might indicate who lived in the house. Finding nothing, he returned quickly. He was astounded by the sight in front of him.
Liv had finished sawing through the metal hose. Gas was hissing out, filling the kitchen. She grabbed her Go Bag and motioned for Finn to follow her into the adjoining living room. He closed the kitchen door behind them, trapping the foul smelling gas inside. She stormed over to the closet filled with tools and whipped out two cans of WD-40. She set one of the cans on a wooden end table next to a black leather couch and clenched the other in her left hand. With a smooth, well-practiced motion, she flipped the silver Zippo open by striking it across her jeans and sparking the flint at the same time.