“You've made ’em angry,” he spits over his shoulder. “Me?” I echo, taken aback. “You’re the one acting crazy.” “You haven’t seen crazy, young lady. Now get in there!” The moment the last word leaves his mouth, the footsteps above freeze, heightening the sound of his voice to a thunderous level. Get in where? My question is quickly answered when it registers that he’s motioning with the gun in the direction of his room.
