Page 10 of Beacon

And I do want to get back home. What’s happened to Mack is a loss in my life—a huge, gaping loss—but it doesn’t mean I can simply throw everything away.

My life matters too.

So I don’t see much choice but to leave in the morning as soon as the sky starts to lighten. I get dressed in my own clothes and pack up my bag again. I heft the straps over my shoulders and walk through the small cabin to where Mack is waiting on the porch.

This morning he’s wearing jeans and a gray T-shirt. It’sold. It’s got a small tear on one sleeve and a stain on the back near the hem. He’s been wearing it for as long as I can remember, along with his army fatigues.

I stand in front of him, meeting his gaze for a minute. Then murmur, “Are you sure about this, Mack?”

“I’m sure,” he says gruffly. “You tell ’em not to send anyone else. I’m fine, and I’m planning to stay.”

My throat tightens so quickly I almost choke, but I manage to clear it with a cough. There’s nothing left for me to say.

I pull my gun out of my holster so that I have it at the ready as I hike. I head down the front walk. Then the driveway.

I glance back once before the cabin is out of sight, but Mack isn’t even on the porch anymore.

I hike for two hours without incident and without seeing another living soul.

It’s a lot safer that way, but the utter isolation still feels creepy. Lonely.

How the hell does Mack stand it? He’s always been so social.

But things are different now. And I’ve failed.

I failed him and me and Cal and Rachel and everyone waiting for Mack at home. If I’d spotted even a flicker of softening in him, I probably would have stuck it out.Forced my presence on him when he clearly doesn’t want it.

But there was nothing. Nothing.

It’s like it’s not even Mack anymore.

It’s on that thought that my eyes start to burn, and after a few minutes all the tears I’ve been suppressing for the past twenty-four hours start streaming down my face. I cry in mostly silence, still walking at a brisk pace because I can’t afford to lose any time.

Cal and Rachel will be waiting for me for a few more hours.

They’re going to be crushed when I show up without Mack.

I sniff and wipe at my eyes and continue, making sure to keep an eye out for possible danger.

I really think I’m being careful, but I’m also crying. So what happens could definitely be my own fault.

I’m not really made for this life. I don’t like violence of any kind, and it took me years after Impact to develop any sort of functional self-defense and fighting skills. I’ve learned a lot and hardened myself as best I can, so I’m not completely helpless anymore.

But I’m not Rachel. Or Maria. Or one of the supercompetent women in my circle.

And when I turn a tight curve in the trail I’m following and am suddenly confronted by three dubious-looking men, I don’t react quickly enough.

I should have raised my gun immediately, but I don’t.I’m surprised. My eyes are filled with tears. And my head is momentarily blank.

It’s only a matter of seconds before I wrap my mind around the situation and start aiming my gun, but it’s too late by then.

The men are faceless to me. Two are big, and one is small. They all have untrimmed beards and shaggy hair. They don’t look like the ruffians who populate the border. Instead, they look like they’ve barely dragged themselves out of the Stone Age.

They don’t even have weapons, but one of them grabs my arm before I can get my gun leveled. He squeezes so hard I gasp and buckle, and my pistol falls to the ground.

They’re talking to each other now, but all I can hear is a piercing ringing inside my head. It’s deafening me. Blurring my vision. The pain from my arm and the absolute panic.

I’m struggling in the grip of the man who grabbed me, but he’s got to be almost a foot taller than me and twice as broad.

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