All at once, it’s like the world reduces down, folding in on itself at the very moment the gunshots pierce the balmy air. Suddenly, the softness of the evening spins out and frays, a harsh darkness settling in over the beach. It’s like time has slowed down, a moment feeling like minutes, like hours. Everything is chaos. Everywhere I look, there are dim shadows of bonfire attendees scattering to the wind. It reminds me of when a passing car disrupts a murder of crows gathered in the street. The frantic cries, the desperate fleeing. All drifting out into the darkness and the wind and the confusion. Nothing makes sense right now.
We were having such an amazing conversation, the two of us. I was smiling. I was happy for perhaps the first time in my life, truly happy. But I should know by now I don’t get to be happy. The stars were in a cursed arrangement on the day I was born. I’m a jinx. There’s no way around it anymore. How many times will fate tempt me to believe I might have a chance at something good, only for it to take it right back? My destiny comes hurtling back to hit me hard in the gut. It’s that age-old reminder that things will never better. And if they seem better for a second, just wait for the other shoe to drop. And tonight, it’s dropped.
All of the party-goers are racing off in different directions, as nobody can quite pinpoint the direction from which the gunshots are ringing out. My eyes are wide, my heart is pounding so hard it aches like a weight in my chest, and I can hardly get my body to calm down enough to coordinate my legs to run. But then, does it matter? I have no idea which direction to run. The gunshots sound like they are coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. They could almost be the celebratory crackle of fireworks except that there is no glorious burst of colored light in the sky. No oohs and ahhs. No fanfare. Only screams and curses and shouts of the terrified crowd as they frantically scurry toward what they hope is safety. But in the dark, it’s apparent that nobody really knows where to go or what to do. We’re fish in a barrel, and the gunshots ring out one after another, barely any time to reload in between.
“Bones! What do we do?” I cry out, grasping to take his hand as he turns toward the sound of the gunfire.
“Get down, stay down. I’m going to figure this out,” Bones growls.
To my horror, he lets go of my hand and sprints off into the blackness, in the direction of the gunshots, evidently. I stand there for a second, just staring off into the shadows after him, tears starting to burn in my eyes. He’s gone. Running away to face the monster instead of letting it chase him. Just like our pasts—we cannot outrun a bullet. But we can destroy the hands that hold the gun. Is that his plan? To run through a hail of bullets on the off chance that he makes it through unscathed and still full of enough fight to take them down? I’m torn in two conflicting directions, and so I stand perfectly still and paralyzed in place. On the one hand, my heart swells at the realization that Bones is so heroic as to do the opposite of logical reason, to do what probably nobody else would try. He’s heading toward the monsters. Straight into their lair, without even looking back. He’s a hero by instinct. He isn’t afraid of death.
What is he afraid of? Losing me? Losing his makeshift family?
Is that the compulsion that propels him across the bullet-ridden beach to fight the monsters with his bare hands? He wants to protect us all. And in the doing of that, he might sacrifice his own safety, his own life, just to carry out his mission. Another crack of gunshot pierces the air and I let out a little yelp as I drop to the ground, curling up in the fetal position as though I can just sink through the lakeshore silt and disappear into the earth. I know, somewhat vaguely, that I can’t stay here. That I’m making myself an even easier target by staying still. But I’m not thinking clearly. Panic alarms rip through my brain, my heart thumping so loud I can hear it resounding in my ears. I turn my head and crack one eye open to see the last remnants of Bones disappear into the night. One more huge, running step of his body and he’s gone. As soon as I can no longer find his shape in the darkness, any shred of hope I might have clung to just falls out of my chest, replaced by fear. Primal fear. We are being hunted like animals, and so like an animal I must respond.
Fight, flight, or freeze?
I know I don’t have the strength to fight. I would be a liability more than an aid in that regard. I’ve already frozen up and fell down on the ground like an opossum playing dead, and clearly this is not an appropriate long-term plan. So that leaves just one option.
Flight.
I heave one deep, lung-packing breath and scramble to my feet amid the echo of gunshots in the night. My eyes dart around, looking for any indication of safety or relief. But even the glow of the moon isn’t quite enough to illuminate an obvious retreat plan. Before I can make the decision to just pick a way to go, I hear the panicked breathing and muffled footsteps of people running toward me. I turn to face them, fully expecting to be confronted with the barrel of a gun. But to my relief, these are familiar faces: Ironsides and Breaker. They come hurtling toward me with their eyes flashing, their faces wrought with worry.
Ironsides throws an arm around my shoulders and hisses, “Run!”
“Where? Where do we go?” I manage to choke out between sobs. I haven’t realized until now that I’ve been crying the whole time.
“Just go! We have to find Kate!” Breaker shouts hoarsely.
Shit. Kate is pregnant, making her the absolute most vulnerable person present. The horrific image of bullets ripping through her body flashes vividly into my head. Thanks, intrusive thought. That’s helpful, I think bitterly to myself.
“Run, run, run!” Ironsides demands, pressing at my back.
I do as I’m told, running half-blind with the two men flanking me. We’re trying to escape, but we’re hemmed in by the jagged shoreline. There are only so many ways to go, and into the freezing lake after dark isn’t one of them. It feels like we must be surrounded. No matter where we turn, there’s no easy answer.
“Where’s Bones?” Ironsides hisses to me.
“He ran,” I murmur tearfully. “Right toward the bullets.”
“Of course he did,” Breaker sighs, swiping a large hand over his face with frustration as we continue running along the water. “Always the hero. Always the martyr.”
“Oh god,” I whimper, imagining Bones’s body lying crooked on the beach by morning.
“He’ll be okay,” Ironsides says quickly, glancing at me. “He’s stronger than you even think he is. Don’t worry about him right now. You just keep moving, sweetheart.”
“Okay,” I sniffle.
“Breaker!” cries out a terrified female voice somewhere up ahead. Another crackle of gunshots and the woman falls to the ground. Breaker darts past me, white-hot rage in his eyes.
“Kate! Kate!” he bellows, diving down to the muddy earth beside her, shielding her body with his. Ironsides and I catch up to them and I realize with a gasp of relief that Kate seems unharmed so far by the bullets. Just terrified. And the stress cannot be good for the baby.
“We have to keep moving, Breaker,” Ironsides warns him, looking around frantically.
“She can’t run, Ironsides! She’s pregnant!” Breaker shoots back.
“She’s got to try,” he insists.
“I’ll stay with her,” I volunteer suddenly. Both men look at me like I’ve grown a second head. And maybe a third and fourth, as well.
“What do you mean?” Breaker demands.
“She can’t run. I’m no sprinter myself,” I explain quickly. “You two have to help Bones. He ran toward the gunners, and I can’t stand the idea of him facing them alone.”
“If you think I’m going to abandon Kate, you’re out of your mind,” Breaker retorts.
“She’s right,” Kate pipes up, to everyone’s surprise. “Go. Run. My legs are like jello. I can’t go anywhere.”
“I’ll carry you, then,” Breaker says doggedly. “I’ll carry you.”
She shook her head. “No. That’ll only make you a bigger target. Go, my love. Lauren and I will stay here and hunker down behind this dune. We’ll lie low,” she says.
“She might have a point, man,” Ironsides says gruffly. “Come on, Breaker. Bones needs us. If he’s going to survive this shit, he needs us.”
Breaker looks absolutely miserable at the idea of leaving Kate, but finally, after one desperate kiss, he pulls away. I take his place at Kate’s side, shielding her with my own body as much as I can while the two men dart off in the same direction Bones went.
“I’m so scared,” I admit softly, tears starting to streak down my face.
Kate nods and reaches to squeeze my hand, interlacing her fingers with mine. “I know. I’m scared, too,” she agrees. “Thank you for staying with me.”
“I can’t believe this is happening again,” I whisper, feeling utterly hopeless. “This is all my fault. I’m not allowed to have good things. I should have known I would be punished. And now I’ve put all of you in the crosshairs, too.”
“You can’t think of it that way. None of this is your fault,” Kate whispers back, shaking her head. Another crack of gunshot splits the air and we flatten ourselves down on the ground even more, hoping that the darkness will hide us.
“What will happen to Bones?” I murmur, even though I know she can’t give me the answer I need to hear. Kate pulls me close and hugs me as we lie on the beach, cowering.
“I don’t know,” she admits. “But if he’s anything like Breaker, he’ll get by.”
“How can you be so sure?” I whimper.
She gives me a soft, sorrowful smile. “I’m not. But when you fall in love with a man like that, you learn to accept the danger. It’s all worth it, even in the blackest moments,” she shares.
Before I can formulate a response, we hear the thudding of heavy footsteps coming our way and we duck down, covering our heads even though I can still peek with one eye. The men coming toward us are not familiar. And judging by the looks of pure evil on their faces, they are not friendly either.
“Shit,” I swear, trying to cover Kate’s body with mine to hide her. But the men come thundering up to us with their guns slung over their shoulders.
“Please, don’t!” I cry out. “Don’t hurt her!”
“Stand up,” grunts one of the men while the man other cocks his gun and aims it right at us. “I said get your ass up!” the guy growls angrily.
“Leave us alone!” I shoot back. We get up on our feet but I hold both arms out, trying to block them from touching Kate and her delicate pregnant belly. My knees feel like they’re made of papier-mache, my whole body trembling from head to toe.
The man without a gun rushes over and easily shoves me aside to grab Kate’s arm while the man with the gun starts in toward me. I freeze up for a split second, watching Kate get dragged away with pure terror in her eyes. And then, just as the man is reaching to take my arm, his fingertips barely brushing over my skin, my instincts kick back in.
Without another moment’s hesitation, I turn and bolt away in the opposite direction, hearing the two men shout angrily after me to come back, to give in. But I won’t. I can’t. Not even now that my hopes are so low and fragile. I’ve lost Bones. I had to give up Kate. And now I’m all on my own, just like it’s always been. I can hear thudding footsteps several yards behind me for a minute or so, one of the men clearly chasing after me. I hear a few more scattered gunshots, which make me wince every time. Every burst of fire flashes the image of another wounded, bloody body, shot through and collapsed on the beach. I’m running blind now, far enough from the bonfire that no light can guide me. It’s terrifying, but there’s one good thing about it: my assailant can’t see anything either. Maybe I can outrun him, or at least outlast him.
I’m no athlete, but I guess one could say I’ve had a lifetime of practice running away from my past. I know not to look back, not to waste time with bargaining or pleading. I remember Bones’s wise words, urging me to look ahead and never behind me. My legs are quaking and burning with exertion, my heart pounding like crazy. But I don’t stop. Not until my numb left foot hits a heavy stone and I wail with pain, tripping and falling to the ground… head first. My head slams into another, larger boulder and I realize I’ve run far enough away to have reached the jetties. I am cursed. There’s no question in my mind. And if not for me, this would have been just a happy, fun get-together of friends-made-family. But I ruin everything simply by existing. My presence puts others in danger automatically. I will never escape my past, even if I run as hard and long as my body will let me. And I put others in danger, too. That’s the worst part, by far. Knowing that I alone am responsible for the pain and terror of the evening. The dark realization washes over me that I was wrong to think I can walk this life with Bones. I don’t deserve a companion. My life will always be terrifying. And if I don’t want to watch more of my loved ones die or disappear, I have to go it alone. It will be miserable, but it’s preferable to bringing everyone else down with me on the slowly sinking ship that is my life.
Still, fear is enough to propel me back on my feet. I keep running, even though my lungs are on fire. I don’t look back, and I don’t hear those footsteps anymore. But still, I assume he has to be there, chasing me down just like the dark specters of my past looming over my shoulder at all times. Finally, I manage to make out a watery, flickering light. Not the bonfire… a streetlight.
The road.
I summon as much strength as I can muster and start booking it toward the road. As I get closer, I see another woman about my age, maybe a little older, crouching down in the dirt. Her face is twisted and pale with pain, her hands clutching at her ankle. Even in the darkness I can tell that her ankle is swollen and turning purple. She looks up with terror in her eyes at the sound of my approaching, but I hastily offer her my hand.
“Come on,” I whisper fervently.
She hesitates for a moment, biting her lip as she looks at her swollen ankle. But then she takes my hand and I pull her up. She cries out in agony as her injured foot touches the ground, and I help her put an arm around my shoulders so she can limp alongside me.
“The road,” she gasps breathlessly. “We have to head toward the road.”
“I know. I know. We’re going that way, okay? We’re going to get there,” I promise her, even though I know damn well we might not make it. But when another burst of shots ring out, my injured companion limps faster, the two of us moving along as quickly as one could expect.
As we step into the faint, flickering glow of the streetlight, I can suddenly see farther than before. I stare down toward the area where the motorcycles are parked. My eyes lock onto a familiar silhouette, tall and bulky and tight-fisted. Bones. I know it’s him. And just as I’m about to run to him, to help him, I see another figure come swinging at him out of the darkness. I can’t hear it, but I can perfectly imagine the sound of that fist connecting squarely with his jaw. I cry out and try to run to him, blind love pushing me away from the injured woman toward Bones, but before I can make any headway, I feel a hand close tightly around my wrist.
“No!” I cry out, whirling around to face my attacker from the darkness. I don’t even get a chance to see his face properly before he slams a hand over my mouth and nose, his arm going around my neck. In a quick squeeze, all the air in my lungs dries up and I can’t breathe. The world lurches on its axis and everything goes dark.