Page 67 of Beacon

I’m oddly reluctant to leave the shelter of the woods, but there’s no reason not to. Maria’s group clearly has control of the building, and the leaders inside are either captured or dead.

Most likely dead.

Rachel meets my eyes with a shrug. Maybe it really can be this easy.

We’ve gotten into the yard in the back of the building.Cal is saying something to Maria. Rose comes out of the building just then, grinning when she sees me. She gives me a cheesy thumbs-up.

I feel something slicing through the air beside me even before I hear the shot. Rose jerks oddly and falls to the ground. I stare the blood on her shirt, momentarily too stunned to even move even though I know I should.

Then someone—Jimmy, I think—pushes me to the ground behind an old industrial-size AC compressor. Maria is shouting, “Take cover! They’re behind us!”

I’m winded and confused and terrified as I straighten up onto my knees, keeping low beside Jimmy behind the protection of the big mechanical unit. I peer to my left and see Cal and Rachel still out in the open. He’s basically on top of her, using his own body as a shield.

I knew it was too easy.

That’s all I can think.

More bad guys are gathering at the tree line, called into action by that damned siren. If we were still in our former positions behind the trees, we would have been completely massacred. As it is, we’re at a huge disadvantage.

They have the high ground now. They have the cover from the trees. And there are way too many of them.

Jimmy and I have started shooting from behind the compressor, but I can barely see who I’m aiming at because of the trees. I dart a quick, panicked look over at Cal and Rachel and am relieved that Aidan hasshifted one of the gang’s big motorcycles into neutral and rolled it over to provide the other couple some cover.

I can’t focus on them anymore as we’re now under even more intense fire. It’s all I can do to keep shooting mostly blind and repeatedly duck my head to keep it from being shot off.

We’re not going to make it.

The bleak conclusion slams down on me like a crushing weight. I know it for sure. I can sense the reality of it in the air.

I glance over at Jimmy beside me, and he meets my eyes for just a second. I can see the knowledge on his face too. The reality of it. The grief of it.

He loves Chloe so much. And he’s only known his son for two weeks.

I can’t even see Greta and Ben anymore. For all I know, Jimmy’s parents are already dead.

It’s strange that it’s Jimmy I’m with at the end. He’s almost a stranger to me, but I want to cry for him anyway.

And for Mack. For what he’ll feel when he learns that I’m dead. And Cal and Rachel. Maria. So many of the people he loves.

It’s terrible. The very worst thing. Feeling what he’ll feel. I keep shooting even as my body wracks with silent sobs.

There seem to be even more bad guys now, and they’re shooting at us from all sides. We’ve made it through somany fights over the years, but there’s no way we can overcome this.

It’s over.

Everything is over.

And I’m going to die crouched behind a long-useless AC compressor beside Jimmy Carlson.

It should have been Mack.

It makes no sense that it’s not Mack beside me right now.

There’s nothing to do but reload quickly and keep shooting, but it’s Mack I’m seeing in my mind—his kind eyes and his warm smile and his big, tender hands and uninhibited laughter.

I had him in my life for longer than I deserved, and I’ve at least tried to do something worthwhile with my days. I would have liked to teach Jane Austen again or Tennyson or Shakespeare. I would have liked to hug Mack one more time. I would have liked to one day have his baby.

But it’s enough.

---