“Okay, I’ll stop.” He reached for the bag, but she jerked it out of his reach.
“We need to go to the police. Tell them what’s happening. We have to put an end to this.”
“Mom—” He didn’t get to finish the thought before a boat engine suddenly roared.
Right there, hidden in the brush on the river.
He spun around toward it, squinting as a spotlight blinded him.
He put a forearm up to protect himself from it, but there was no protecting them from the riot of gunshots that suddenly rained.
So loud he couldn’t hear as dust and debris flew.
He didn’t even feel the hot spikes of pain impale his side.
He could only spin around and throw himself over the top of his mother to protect her.
His mind spinning with terror. With the horror of what he’d done.
No question, they saw her and believed her a threat.
Gunshots continued to fire. A slew that sparked and disoriented.
His ears rang so loud when the barrage finally ended, and the boat engine roared as it sped off into the night.
While everything else seemed slowed. The ravaging of his heart and the processing of his brain.
His movements stilted and broken.
His ears rang and rang, and dizziness spun his head.
The oxygen he tried to expel from his lungs felt like it weighed five thousand tons as he pushed himself off his mother.
His mother who was making sounds he couldn’t quite make out.
Gurgled and strained.
One sliver of moonlight cut through. Enough to illuminate her face.
Her face that was splattered with blood.
“Oh God. Oh God. No, no, no.” He mumbled it, struggling to push to his feet, the toes of his shoes sliding against the loose dirt below him.
She kept making those noises. Noises that rattled with shock and pain.
He finally made it to his knees, and he was begging, “Mom. Please, just hang on. You’re gonna be fine. I promise you’re gonna be fine.”
She had to be.
He somehow managed to get her over his shoulder, his mind spinning and his body bowing as he battled to stand.
He had to get her help.
He turned and staggered down the path toward where his dad would be waiting.
Wishing he could run, go faster, but his right leg was dragging as he fought through the underbrush.
“We’re going to get you help. It’s okay. It’s okay.”
