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Max took my hand. “One thing. What will you give up to always honor how much this fucking sucks?”
Was he serious? “Ah…I guess shellfish.”
“No,” he mock gasped. “Not shellfish.”
Something exploded again, and I winced. He placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. I managed to say, “Not shellfish?”
“No, I make great shellfish. Something else.”
This was making my head hurt. “I guess I would get rid of beets.”
He nodded. “I like beets, but I can see getting rid of them. Fine. You’ll eliminate beets, and every time you see them on a menu and don’t eat them, you’ll remember this moment and the severity of it. You’ll say to yourself,I’m not doing that shit again.”
“You’re insane.”
He winked at me. “Little bit. That’s why I left this behind. I think they’re done.”
Sure enough, it had gotten quiet outside. I tried to ignore the fact that I was actually shaking. My whole body vibrated like I was a machine that needed some oil. Hell, I was thinking nutty things too. Something pinged on Max’s belt, and he looked down at it. “They need you, and Michael says it’s safe to let you out.”
It was? How had any of this happened? I hadn’t watched any of it, but it seemed rather unlikely that everything could already be fine. Max walked out in front of me, and I stared past him at the scene. Not everyone was dead. In fact, a quick headcount told me all of our people were fine. Dead bodies lay scattered everywhere, but others were just on their knees, their hands behind their heads. Clayton and the others walked behind them, big guns drawn, ready to fire at any time. Clayton was the one who caught my attention because he was actually whistling.
As though nothing tremendous had happened at all.
My vibrating limbs cooperated, and I spotted Michael squatted down, talking to three children, but his hand sat on Tim’s shoulder. The little boy lit up when he saw me, then he took off in my direction.
I’d always thought it a ridiculous expression, but my heart really did fill up with gratitude. He was right there, and he was fine. I opened my arms to greet his incoming hug when I saw what was about to happen. It was funny, almost like it was happening in slow motion. Mitch treated the wound on one ofthe enemies who had been shot, so he didn’t see the guy next to him pulled his gun.
I saw it, but I was the only one. He wasn’t pointing it at me or at Max. No, he intended to shoot down the beautiful child rushing toward me.
I’ve heard that people can do tremendous things under stress, that adrenaline could make us sometimes almost superhuman. I didn’t know if that was what made my legs move, but I ran like someone’s life depended on it. I managed to knock Tim to the ground just in time to hear the gunfire. Max called out my name, and it sounded like it was in slow motion too, as though we’d suddenly found ourselves on a movie set where someone had reduced the sound.
More gunfire, and a screaming child beneath me.
“Okay. Okay,” I said to Tim. “I’m sorry. But I had to protect you. You’re okay. You’re okay.”
“Hope.” His little voice called out to me as Max rolled me off the child. His face was pale, his eyes huge.Why does he look like that? What is wrong?
Had Tim been hit? I stared over at the child we’d come all this way to save. He was covered in blood. No. It couldn’t end like this. He couldn’t be so tiny and shot.
“Tim, it’s going to be okay. You’ll be okay. We’ll help you.”
The little boy pointed at me. “You’re bleeding.”
Me?I looked down at my gut. Sure enough, I was bleeding. Right above my hip and on my arm. Two places. “How did that happen?”
It was like acknowledging the wounds made them hurt, made them real. They burned, and I cried out from the sheer agony of them. Max pushed me back, his hands coming down on my side above my hip, while Michael, who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, did the same on my arm. Everyone talked at once.
Mitch asked them to move, so he could see, but Max screamed at him for losing control of his guys while at the same time telling me it was somehow all his fault. Michael said the same. Everyone competed to take responsibility for the fact that I was shot. The world tilted sideways, and despite my pain, I tried to smile at Tim while Max lifted me off the ground.
“It’s going to be okay,” I told him. “You’re going home to your grandmother.”
I wished I could have actually blacked out, but I’d never been a fainter. I tended to stay awake through ordeals. Apparently, Mitch poking at my bullet wounds as the airplane took off, leaving behind the disaster we’d left in our wake, was something I was going to have to handle fully conscious. I shook as he touched each one.
“Stay with me,” Max instructed, his tone different than any I’d ever heard from him. He sounded absolutely in charge. It was different than the kitchen. I could see why people listened to him. He just acted like they should, and I wanted to do just what he said.
“I’m not going to faint.” My voice shook, but I got the words out. Next to me, Mitch pulled out an IV bag.
“This will help. But, yes, stay awake as long as you can.”
