There was a time when Dunne would have chosen to die. When he'd had nothing to live for, no one who cared, no hope to cling to. When he'd thought he deserved to die for what he'd failed to do.
But that time was over. Day 8 was over.
Dunne half-turned and spread his arms, pointing one pistol toward whoever was sneaking up on him. The other pistol, Dunne swung around to aim at Weed.
Alerted by the sound or movement or both, Weed looked in his direction. Swept the machine guns away from Gowdy and Hannahlee.
Which is when Dunne killed him.
As soon as Weed turned, Dunne pulled the trigger on the pistol. Pulled it repeatedly.
Multiple rounds flashed toward Weed—and three hit him. One in the shoulder, one in the chest.
And one in the face.
Instantly, Weed dropped the machine guns and fell. Dunne didn't watch to see him hit the ground.
Instead, Dunne whirled to face whoever was coming behind him. Started squeezing off shots before he even got a look at who was back there.
His first shots were wild, but they put the attackers on the defensive. The two of them—a Japanese Rainbow Bride and a dark-haired gunman—were running for cover behind headstones.
Dunne was just about to fire more rounds in their direction when he got a surprise. Fresh shots flew from either side of him, picking off the bride and gunman before they could reach cover.
As the bride and gunman dropped, the ones who'd shot them stepped up to stand beside Dunne. He looked left, then right—catching sight of Gowdy, then Hannahlee.
His father and mother, who'd saved his life.