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Michael swallowed, remembering images of the bombing he’d seen first on television, and then firsthand. He’d never be able to forget the sound of Hannah’s voice in his ear, saying that they’d found body parts.
But here were his brothers, safe and sound in front of him.
Someone else’s kids hadn’t been so lucky. Hunter hadn’t been so lucky. Neither had Calla Dean—regardless of whether she’d deserved it.
Tyler had been lucky. Hunter’s power burst had healed him as well as it had Michael.
“We tried to warn them,” said Chris.
“Warn who?” said Michael.
“The people in the house,” said Gabriel. His face was paler than usual, and he kept glancing at the trail where the Guide had fallen—and where Hunter had vanished into a plume of power and elemental energy. “Nick felt it first—that someone had broken in—”
“I didn’t know it was a bomb,” said Nick. His face was white, too. “I just thought the Guide was after us. We wouldn’t have run if we’d known. We would have helped—”
“It’s not your fault,” said Michael. “I’m glad you ran. I told you to run.”
“We tried to warn the others that someone had broken in, that we were all in danger—”
“Yeah, we tried,” said Gabriel. “But they wouldn’t f**king listen.”
Chris picked up his rage and ran with it. He scowled. “They thought we were trying to run away.”
Michael understood the anger—it was so much easier to deal with than grief, which would sucker punch you when you least expected it.
Hunter had given up everything to save them. And not just them—possibly the whole county. Maybe more. Michael thought of their conversation at Adam’s kitchen table, when he’d told Hunter that he tried to do what his father would have expected of him.
Had Hunter taken that to heart? Had his decision been a direct result of that conversation?
Was this really what Hunter’s father would have wanted? Or was that just what Hunter had believed?
Michael had no idea. And he wasn’t sure it really mattered.
He wasn’t sure he was worthy of the sacrifice.
“How did the Guide know where to find you?” said Michael.
“We don’t know,” said Nick.
“We thought—” Gabriel started, but he stopped himself.
“We thought he’d killed you,” said Chris. “We thought he’d gotten the information out of you somehow.”
Michael realized that while he’d been feeling lost and alone, his brothers had been feeling the same. He shook his head. “They wouldn’t tell me where you’d been taken. Even David didn’t know.”
Shoes crunched on the broken pavement behind him. “Didn’t know what?”
Michael turned to find Marshal Faulkner standing there. He considered lying—but there’d been so many lies and secrets and half truths, and he just couldn’t find the strength anymore.
“How did this guy find them? How did he know which home to target?”
Marshal Faulkner glanced into the ambulance and then back at Michael. His voice was heavy. “Because he was a cop.” He paused. “He knew who to call, what to say, what to ask.”
Of course. Michael didn’t know how to respond to that.
He shifted and looked into the ambulance again. “When can I take my brothers and get out of here?”
“You can’t.”
