by James Sperl
Inferno stepped in front of them. “Do you see now?” he said to Clarissa. “It's our destiny to be together. Even the seemingly inevitable bullet from your friend's gun can't prevent it from happening. There's no use fighting.”
Clarissa was beyond sadness. No words could express what she felt. She wanted to scream, to lash out, to curse God or the Devil, or any other deity that had a hand in this perpetual misery. She wanted to tear Travis to pieces, to let him physically experience what would only be a small glimpse into the pain and anguish she felt. But she couldn't embrace that darkness. She had to compartmentalize her emotions and keep her wits about her. Andrew was down, Dustin was gravely wounded, and Jon was dead, yet Inferno and his hit squad still stood. She had a very deep hole to climb out of yet.
“Destiny?” she said after a moment, her face tear-stained, her lip quivering. “This isn't destiny. This is manipulation. This is your two killer monkeys doing for you what you can't do for yourself. It's not destiny. It's a ruse.”
Inferno lifted his chin. “You can't truly believe that.”
Clarissa pulled the blood-soaked shirt away from Dustin's wound to check it. It was bad, but the blood loss appeared to be slowing. She shouldered away tears from her cheek.
“Of course I believe it!” she hissed. “Just like I believe you wouldn't be shit without them. They're the reason people fear you. By yourself, you're a joke!”
Clarissa immediately wished she could take back her words. Everyone had their breaking point, and she may have just pushed Inferno to his. His reputation was his driving force. It's what compelled people to follow him. Without the threat of violence, he was nothing. Clarissa had just emasculated him in front of his top two people. Love or not, he couldn't allow what she said to go unpunished.
Inferno held his gaze on her. After a pensive moment, he held out his hand to Mr. Stitch without looking at him. The gesture implied: Give me your gun. Mr. Stitch didn't take his eyes off Clarissa, as he withdrew a jet-black handgun from behind his back and placed it in Inferno's palm.
“It saddens me that you feel that way,” Inferno said. “I was really hoping it wouldn't come to this.”
It took all of Clarissa's will to get out the words, “It doesn't have to.”
“Oh, but I'm afraid it does.”
Without warning, Inferno pivoted and shot Mr. Stitch and Ludi square between the eyes. Mr. Stitch careened backward before he fell, Ludi instantly flopping over where she stood.
Clarissa recoiled violently, stumbling from her crouch to land on her ass.
“Now it's just us,” Inferno said, facing her. “No more excuses. No more obstacles. With the Sound gone, as you say, all that's left for us is the future.”
Clarissa shook terribly. She stared at the bodies of Mr. Stitch and Ludi. She knew Travis was a psychopath with zero empathy, but if he could do that to his own people, so coldly, so callously...She forced herself to look at him.
“I...I always knew something was wrong with you, something broken in you that needed fixing.” Clarissa fought to control her breathing, which came in hyper-erratic inhalations. “Maybe that's what drew me to you back in high school. Maybe I saw something in you that I thought I could help. Something my maternal side recognized but couldn't identify.” She shook her head. “But there's no helping you, is there? Not then. Not now. You're forever lost...and just completely off the rails fucking crazy.”
The gunfire and screaming had abated significantly. Fewer and fewer voices shouted from around New Framingham—the battle was reaching its end. Clarissa wondered who won.
“Maybe you're right,” Inferno said. “Maybe I'm not assembled as wholly as I should be. But you can still help me. You're the only one who can. So I have one final deal for you.” He took a step toward her but pointed the gun at Dustin. Clarissa whimpered. “Come with me now, and I'll allow your friends to live.”
Clarissa stared at him through what felt like a dense fog. She heard what he said. She just couldn't comprehend it. Were Dustin and Andrew getting a chance to live? She let go of the makeshift bandage on Dustin's shoulder and rose to her feet on unsteady legs.
“What?”
“My offer is valid. Come with me, and I'll spare your friends. But refuse me...” Inferno pulled back the hammer with a click. Clarissa cried out. “I will not be fast. I will take my time with each of them, and I will enjoy it.”
“Clarissa...” Andrew had twisted himself around on the ground to look at her. “Don't.”
Clarissa chewed her lip until it bled. Inferno had cornered her. But if there were even a chance Andrew and Dustin could walk away from here alive, she would do whatever it took. She knew the decision she had to make. Putting Andrew to her back, she stepped between Dustin and the gun Inferno aimed at him. She jammed a stern finger in his face.
“You give me your word,” she said. “Not as Inferno. Not as this character you've created. But as Travis. If he tells me they'll be set free then...then I'll go with you.”
Inferno lowered his gun. “As the person you once knew, you have my word, Clarissa.”
Nodding, Clarissa exhaled and faced Andrew. “Can you stand?”
“I think so,” Andrew said. He pushed himself into a sitting position through a painful grimace. “But, Clarissa, don't do th—”
“It's done. Help me get Dustin up.”
Andrew eyed her with despair then acceded with a sigh. He hobbled over to Dustin and, with Clarissa assisting at the waist, carefully worked him to his feet. Dustin was sheet white and coated with sweat. He looked at Clarissa through eyes that were barely slits.
“Clar...issa...” he said hoarsely.
Clarissa put on a smile. “Shhh. It's going to be okay,” she said. She placed a hand on his cheek, smearing the blood that had splattered there. “You're getting out of here. I'll see you soon.” It was a lie, but it was one she needed to tell herself to make it through this. She turned to Andrew. “Take care of him, okay?” Her smile waned.
“I will.” he said, glimpsing Inferno.
More tears came for Clarissa. “Of all the people who could've picked me up in the parking lot that day...” She stopped to palm a runner. “...I'm really glad it was you.”
Andrew stared at her with heartfelt intensity, his own eyes beginning to water. Again, he flashed to Inferno, who grew impatient.
“After I had lost Liv and the baby...” he began, his jaw grinding to stave off emotion, “...I died a little too. I stopped wondering about what my life would've been like with them, what my daughter would've been like had she been born.” He exhaled a shaky breath. “I hadn't thought about her in a long time. It was too hard. Then I met you. And it got me thinking about her again. That if I was really lucky...she would have grown up to turn out like you.”
Clarissa sniffled and choked back a wracking sob. She wanted to collapse onto Andrew's shoulder and weep for days, to feel the comfort he brought her one final time before she surrendered to Inferno. But that would have to remain a dream she visited in her sleep.
“Time's up,” Inferno said. Clarissa tried mightily to keep a smile for Andrew, but it wouldn't stick. “There will be a lot to do in the aftermath of this night now that we have control. I must attend to my followers. It's time to go.” Inferno held out his hand to Clarissa.
She regarded it ominously. Fear, doubt, and regret filled her to overflowing, but she couldn't back out. To do so meant terrible things would happen, and she couldn't stomach any further needless violence. Andrew kissed her hand, and she laid it against his cheek. He canted his head toward it but said nothing.
Clarissa faced Inferno. He stared at her triumphantly, as if this outcome was a fated inevitability only he saw. It made her want to punch him square in his scarred and festering face. Reluctantly, she placed her hand in his.
Past him, in the darkness and the smoke, people stirred. The shooting had all but ceased. Those left alive wandered among the dead and fallen. Vehicles trolled the lot, their headlights casting
gloomy light over the apocalyptic scene. From the northwest, a pair of headlights sped into the area that had once been the Sleep Zone. It was the same location to where Donna had escaped just moments ago.
Clarissa watched the vehicle. Though she couldn't make out its type, it behaved strangely, driving with a sense of urgency unlike any of the other cars and trucks that puttered throughout the lot. A spark of hope flickered inside her. Were Donna and her people making a final push for control? Were others from Rosenstein en route? Clarissa covertly glimpsed the other checkpoints but saw no evidence of this.
She glanced again at the roaming headlights. The vehicle they belonged to weaved around something in the road, dodging cars, trucks, and bodies before it straightened out, its high beams settling over the area where Clarissa stood.
The vehicle immediately accelerated.
The revving motor was loud in the relative silence, causing Inferno to start to turn. With the vehicle's speed and trajectory, it would arrive at Clarissa's location in a matter of seconds. She hadn't the first idea who barreled toward her—was it Donna? A rogue New Framingham resident trying to take out Inferno?—but for unexplained reasons, she deeply felt that she needed to keep Inferno from seeing it.
Grabbing him by the wrist with her other hand, Clarissa yanked forward with everything she had. It caught him off guard. With his body half-turned and his expectation of a surprise attack from her non-existent, Inferno floundered sideways. He fought to maintain balance as he stumbled, Clarissa banking on the miracle that he wouldn't recover before the vehicle got there. It was a risky gamble, not only with the timing but also in her held suspicion that the approaching vehicle was somehow a game changer. If she was wrong, though, and her long shot didn't pan out, she knew she faced a wrath she didn't even want to begin to imagine. Fortunately for her, Andrew read the situation the same way.
Abandoning Dustin, who plopped down hard on his ass after Andrew let him go, Andrew ensnared an off-balance Inferno. Inferno thrashed in his arms, screaming from deceived rage, as the vehicle raced forward. Its lights bathed everyone until it skidded to a tire-screeching halt beside Clarissa.
It wasn't Donna.
It wasn't even a Humvee.
The sliding door to the minivan that had just pulled up ripped sideways. Valentina clung to the handholds in the opening.
“Get in!” she screamed at Clarissa from the top of her lungs.
Clarissa's mind was in a tailspin. In the fraction of a second since the minivan's door opened, her eyes had flitted from the unbelievable sight of Valentina to the image of Elenora in the passenger seat holding Naomi, to a frantic Evan, who shouted animatedly from his position behind the steering wheel.
Was this real?
“Help her with Dustin!” Andrew screamed, his hold on a flailing Inferno beginning to weaken. “Hurry!”
Valentina leaped from the van and scrambled to Dustin's side. “Help me!” she howled at Clarissa.
Clarissa fought against the dazed sensation that had descended over her and tottered over to assist. Without Andrew's strength, it was more challenging to get Dustin upright, but the adrenaline pulsing through her and Valentina's blood more than compensated.
Inferno was a raging animal. “If you leave,” he howled, “I'll kill you! I'll kill every last one of you!”
Clarissa and Valentina scuttled Dustin into the van, Valentina bounding in ahead of him to ease him onto the floor. Clarissa jumped into the doorway and thrust out a hand.
“Andrew, come on!”
Inferno lashed and kicked and threw savage elbows into Andrew's ribs, which caused Andrew to cough from pain. But he held fast.
“No!” he said, breathless. “Go! Get out of here!”
Clarissa shook her head violently. “We're not leaving you! Get in! Now!”
Inferno twisted sharply, nearly pulling Andrew off his feet. He drove the back of his head into Andrew's face, Andrew reeling from the powerful shot. He countered by hoisting Inferno upward then slamming him to the ground like a wrestler. He dove on top of him and smothered Inferno with his body.
Evan's voice cut through the madness. “Where's my dad?”
He leaned over Naomi and across Elenora to peer through the passenger window. He scanned the bodies lying on the ground then locked on one in particular. His face went slack.
“Dad?”
Evan shuffled around Elenora to the open door. He gaped in horror at Jon's mutilated body, which lay motionless in a pooling lake of red. “Dad?” he cried out again, then as reality caved in on him: “DAD!”
Evan lurched forward, but Clarissa was there to catch him. He fought like a feral animal trying to free itself, but Clarissa wouldn't let him go. If he were allowed to exit the van, it would eat up precious seconds she and the others simply didn't have. He wailed with an intensity that brought tears to her eyes, the raw emotion of sudden loss too powerful to combat.
Valentina edged forward to help. “Evan,” she said, slipping her arms around his shoulders. He didn't react to her, but Clarissa was able to loosen her grip on him enough so Valentina could ease him back into the van. That was all it took. He howled then crumpled into her shoulder where he stayed.
“Go, Clarissa!” Andrew shouted. “Get them out of here! I can't hold him!”
Clarissa started out of the van but stopped herself. She looked at Andrew with utter helplessness. He was buying them the chance to escape. If they waited for a second longer, they would lose it. They had to leave.
Clarissa had already said goodbye to Andrew once, but the need to say it again felt renewed. Something about the moment and what followed it reeked of a finality she didn't want to face. Andrew, as always, eased her hesitation, even if this time his words rang hollow.
“I'll be fine!” he said. “I'll meet up with you later! Just go!”
“You'll all be dead later!” Inferno screamed. “I promise you that! You'll be begging me for death before I'm done with you!”
He writhed violently beneath Andrew's weight—and he gained ground. Clarissa found Andrew's eyes in a moment as brief as a flutter of a hummingbird's wings. In it, she saw love vast enough to fill the widest valley and the deepest crevasse. It both overflowed her heart to the brim and shattered it into a million pieces.
It was time to go.
With a final, desolate glance, Clarissa turned from Andrew to Inferno. She couldn't leave without saying what she had long wanted to say to him, and there may never be another opportunity. Corralling any last vestiges of hate she had for him, Clarissa inhaled and purged herself of it:
“Fuck you, Travis! FUCK YOU!”
A bullet ricocheted off the windshield in front of Elenora, prompting everyone to fits of panicked screaming. Clarissa looked at Andrew—the moment was upon her. She mouthed the words “I love you” but didn't wait for a response. She already knew what he would say.
Heaving the van's sliding door shut, she bound for the empty driver's seat, threw the van into gear, and peeled away. The van's tires chirped in hasty retreat. She adjusted the rearview to see Andrew through the back window, as she accelerated. He receded until he was nothing more than a troubled shadow in blackness. Then, as the darkness and distance swallowed him, he became nothing at all.
CHAPTER 76
Andrew grappled with Inferno on the ground. He was losing steam, but he needed to incapacitate Inferno until the van made it out of New Framingham. He watched it squeal toward the northeast, its taillights diminishing until smoke had all but devoured it. It made a sharp right turn once outside the checkpoint then it was gone. He exhaled a breath he didn't know he had held.
Valentina had come through.
He could only speculate as to how she ended up in a van with Evan and Elenora, but it was tragically apparent that Inferno's forces were far more potent than anyone thought. The safe house must have fallen, and Evan, the boy who was no longer a boy, had stepped up, shown some ingenuity, and gotten himself and Elenora out of there. That they had stumbled acr
oss Valentina was nothing short of a statistical and probabilities marvel. The innumerable ways in which theirs and Valentina's paths might not have crossed was dizzying.
And now Clarissa was with them.
Inferno was beyond incensed. He twisted savagely, as he tried to get out from under Andrew, but Andrew, despite his waning strength, kept him pinned face down.
“I'm going to cut you into little fucking pieces!” Inferno bellowed. “I'm going to impale you on a thousand poles and mount your body all around this shithole town so people can see what happens when you fuck with me!”
Andrew didn't have the energy to reply. His stamina was fading. He had to put an end to this struggle—to Inferno—before he was totally sapped. If Inferno got the upper hand, what followed wouldn't be pretty. Andrew believed every word of his threat-laced tirade.
The gun Inferno had been holding lay on the ground less than ten feet away. He had been so utterly blindsided by Clarissa's bravura attack on him, it had dislodged from his hand and bounced out of reach. It was Andrew's best chance. Never had ten feet looked so far.
Raising up, Andrew drove his elbow down hard into Inferno's back then followed with two more swift hits. The strike was intended to incapacitate Inferno long enough so Andrew could scramble for the weapon, but just as he pushed off to try, Inferno flipped over—Andrew would never reach it before Inferno retaliated.
Abandoning his attempt, Andrew dove back over Inferno and clamped his hands around Inferno's neck. But Inferno was stronger, and he deftly pried them away.
“You can't imagine what I'm going to do to everyone in that van when I catch up to them!” he hissed. “The pain and torture. Things you've only read about. I'm going to make them suffer! They're going to bleed!”
Andrew became suffused with dread. He couldn't hold off Inferno for much longer. He panted like a race dog, every cell in his body crying out from fatigue. He had to get to that gun.
“But it's what I'm going to do to Clarissa most of all that will redefine torture,” Inferno sneered, his face contorting into a horrible grimace of perverse satisfaction. “But don't worry, I'll keep you alive long enough so you can watch.”