Chapter 6 - The Open Threshold
Mark lunged across the dining room, his boots skidding on the hardwood floor as he rushed toward the open front door. The night air rushed in, carrying the scent of damp pine and wet earth from the surrounding woods.
"Mia!" Mark shouted into the darkness, stepping out onto the porch. The porch light flickered once, buzzing loudly before dying completely, plunging the yard into deep shadow. He flicked on his flashlight again, sweeping the wide beam across the dew-soaked lawn, the empty driveway, and the silent line of trees bordering their property.
Nothing moved. The quiet of the suburban neighborhood was absolute, heavy and suffocating.
"Mark, did you find her?" Elena’s voice cracked as she stepped out behind him, wrapping her arms tightly around herself to ward off the biting cold. Her silky beige top offered no protection against the autumn wind. "Where is she? Where did she go?"
"She was just here," Mark said, his voice laced with panic as he knelt down to pick up the ruined stuffed toy rabbit from the welcome mat. The fabric was damp and smelled faintly of copper and old dust. "I locked this door. I checked it myself."
"The security system," Elena whispered, her eyes wide with sudden realization. "The motion sensors. They would have gone off if the door was opened from the inside."
Mark stood up quickly, his mind racing. "The system log. We can check the activity history from the main panel in the study."
They rushed back inside, slamming the heavy door shut and throwing every lock and deadbolt into place. Mark ran down the short corridor to his small home office, hitting the wall switch to flood the room with light. He dropped into his ergonomic chair, his fingers flying across the keyboard to access the master security server.
The screen flashed green, bringing up the home automation dashboard. Mark clicked on the access log for the front entrance.
Elena leaned over his shoulder, her breath catching. "What does it say?"
Mark stared at the scrolling lines of text, his hands freezing on the mouse. The log showed that the front door hadn't been opened by the handle at all. According to the system diagnostics, the latch had been unbolted remotely from an encrypted terminal located inside the house network—specifically, from the old desktop computer sitting unused in the guest bedroom upstairs.
Mark slowly turned his head to look at the ceiling directly above them.
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From the guest bedroom came the faint, unmistakable sound of a mouse clicking twice.
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