Page 72 of Natalie's Nighthawk

“I wish you’d told me, Lauren. Things might have been different if you had just told me how you felt. You didn’t have to resort to this.”

“No! That little whore would still have gotten in the way. She would still have stolen you from me. You were supposed to be mine. She ruined it.” She was gesturing wildly with the gun, pointing it repeatedly at them.

“Natalie has nothing to do with this. This is between you and me. Why don’t you put the gun down so we can talk?” he tried.

“This haseverythingto do with that whore!” she shrieked. She was shaking, unable to control her emotions. Dirt covered her clothes and exposed skin, like she had crawled through the mud to get here. Her hair appeared greasy and knotted. She must have been hiding out in the woods since she’d abandoned Natalie’s car. What had she done for food? She looked gaunt even with the wild look in her eyes.

“No, Lauren.” Graham tried softening his voice. Reminding himself that she had once been his closest friend. “You are my friend, Lauren. I can help you. Let me help you.”

She stared at him, breathing heavily. “You’re mine,” she muttered.

“I know.” He took a chance and stepped out from behind the jamb just behind the opening to the doorway, hands raised slightly in front of him. He gestured to Natalie to stay where she was, out of sight. “Why don’t you put down the gun so that we can talk.”

She looked confused, glancing at the gun as if she didn’t know how it had gotten in her hand. “Talk?”

“Yeah, Lauren. Let’s talk like we used to. I’ve missed our chats.” It was then Graham noticed the smell. Gas. That last bullet must have nicked the gas line. He needed to get them all out of here.Now. Any spark could ignite the gas building up in the room. Natalie must have smelled it too. She started to move toward him, but he motioned her back.

“Why don’t we go outside to talk, Lauren.”

“I … I don’t know. I came here to do … something.” She placed the fingers of the hand holding the gun against her forehead. Struggling to clear the confusion. “I can’t remember.”

“That’s okay, Lauren. We can go outside. Maybe that will jog your memory. But first, you need to put that gun down.”

She shook her head. “I don … I don’t understand.” Her words slurred. Graham’s paramedic’s training kicked in. Exhaustion, hunger, exposure. Even the gas filling her lungs. Any one of those could be affecting her. Causing confusion. Slurred speech. “I need … need to do … something.”

“Why don’t we go outside,” Graham tried again. “We can do it together outside.”

“No … I …” she broke off again.

Graham tried another tactic. “Lauren, do you smell that? It’s gas. We need to get out of the building. There is a gas leak.”

“Gas?” she asked weakly.

“Yeah. Let’s get out of here before we get hurt. Okay?” He started to take a step toward her. She looked at him, and he stopped moving, standing still in the jamb of the door.

“Don’t want to hurt you,” she muttered as she started to lower the gun to her side. She looked at him, her glassy eyes baffled. Then her eyes flicked over his left shoulder, spotting Natalie. “No!” Lauren screamed and raised the gun.

Graham turned to Natalie and pushed her toward the backdoor, told her to run as Lauren fired, her shot going wildly crazy. He turned to make a run for Lauren. Hoping to tackle her to the ground before she ignited the gas. But she fired just as he reached the threshold between the two rooms, the shot going wild again as it ricocheted off the metal shelves. That was all it took. One spark from the bullet as it hit the shelf. The intense explosion knocked him off his feet.

Natalie dropped to the ground just outside the door as the explosion rent the air. She lay there, momentarily stunned. Shock and confusion immobilizing her. Her body hurt, and her ears were ringing, but she was alive. She looked to her side, no Graham. She was alone just outside the warehouse. Had he made it outside?

“Graham!” She screamed, looking over her shoulder. She got unsteadily to her feet, looking to the door she had just exited. He wasn’t there. Where was he?

Half the warehouse was gone. Debris was everywhere. The room she had fled was still partially standing. The back and side walls still upright. Windows blown out. Door hanging from its hinges. “Graham!” she yelled again. She had to get to him. She couldn’t lose him now.

Before she could think about it, she ran back into the building, coughing as smoke hit her lungs. The main part of the warehouse had been destroyed. Little fires everywhere, licking at what was left. She didn’t let that deter her. She had to find Graham. She made her way carefully through the debris, lifting what she could out of the way and calling out to him with each step.

She heard coughing before she spotted him. He was under what seemed like half the building. His head and shoulders all she could see. “Graham!” she called, dashing to him. She tore through the debris that was piled on top of him.

“Natalie,” he coughed. “Get out of here.”

“No, I’m not leaving you.” She kept digging, her tears nearly blinding her, until she reached the metal beam that lay across him. She tried lifting it, ignoring her screaming wrist. “I can’t lift this. Can you wiggle out from under it?”

“No. My leg is trapped.” Natalie cried out and tried desperately to lift the heavy metal again. “Go, Natalie. The rest of the building could come down at any time. Go.”

She kneeled down next to his head, shaking her head emphatically as tears coursed down her face. He placed a palm on her cheek. “Please, Natalie. Go. Go get help.”

“I’m not leaving. Tell me what to do. How can I get this off of you? What would you do? Please, Graham, tell me what to do,” she pleaded, desperate to make him understand. He would never leave her if their situations were reversed. How could he expect her to abandon him?

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