“It’s okay, girl,” I whispered to her as I stroked her sleek brown coat. “I’ve got you.”
She climbed straight into my lap as if she were just a pup. She licked frantically at my face, her tail wagging so hard it actually hurt when it connected. Despite the atrocities around us, I found myself smiling at her wobbly movements. After a few moments of trying to calm her, Bella curled awkwardly against my chest and began whining at Gunther’s body. That man had been her family and I had taken him away.
“Oh, God,” I sobbed, clutching her soft fur. “I’m so sorry.”
Just like that, a dam broke and all my rage and sorrow came flooding out. I moaned, unbridled, as I clung to her like a life raft on choppy seas. I sobbed for the life I had taken, for the fifty souls that had died so horribly in the next room, and for Mrs. Proud. I cried for my parents and for my little brother, and the family we could never be again. The tears flooded onto Bella’s slick coat until, eventually, the pain that had been building inside me subsided.
Bella had fallen still, her nose buried in the loose hair on my neck. She stayed there until the second I released her, asking nothing of me. She was a kindred spirit— a broken soul to match my own. Bella, the three-legged greyhound.
I lowered the dog gingerly to the floor and slowly rose to my feet, exhausted. The office appeared to have been ransacked; books and files were tossed about and the desk chair lay on its side near the toppled bookcase in the corner. I found a stack of white tablecloths and matching napkins among the debris and scooped them up. I wiped my hands and knife on one of the napkins and slid the blade back in my pocket. Then I used a tablecloth to clean as much blood as I could from myself and from Bella. When I finished, I carefully draped the fabric over Gunther’s lifeless body. I put the Bible in my pack and made my way to the door, Bella hobbling a few steps behind me.
“What the hell happened in there?” Zander said as I approached the doorway. “Jesus, Liv. I heard growling and banging.”
“It’s okay,” I managed.
His eyes raked over me, widening when they reached my leg. “You’re bleeding! Jesus, what happened to you? Liv, are you hurt?”
“No, no, I’m fine,” I said, my voice still hoarse. “It’s not my blood. I’ll explain later, please. I just want to go.”
“Did you feel it, Liv?” Zander asked, rubbing absently at his chest. “It was there, and then it— it just stopped.”
“I know,” I said with a sigh. “Let’s just get out of here, okay?”
The walls were closing in on me. I pushed him ahead of me as we carefully waded through the throng of bodies. Zander jumped easily out onto the sidewalk where our friends had gathered, then grabbed my elbow to help me over. Micah was still hunched over the flowerbed dry-heaving while Riley rubbed his back. Jake was the first to see us coming and was at my side in a flash.
“Holy crap, Liv. You look like a walking crime scene. Are you okay?” He and Zander supported me on either side as I wrestled my shaky legs through the broken window front of the community center.
“I’m fine, really,” I said, and, for the most part, I think I was.
“What the hell happened in there?” Riley asked, wiping sweat from her face as she stared at the blood on my pant-leg.
“Long story,” I said. I turned toward the darkness behind me and patted my leg. “Come on girl. It’s okay.”
Bella’s graceful form slid free from the shadows as she leaped past the broken glass, landing effortlessly at my side. She sat back on her haunches, planted her front paw (the only one she had) on my boot, and leaned against my leg. She puffed out her chest and panted excitedly as her tail thumped against the pile of glass on the sidewalk. Bella looked at each of my friends, then nudged her long snout into my hand and puffed through her teeth at me.
“Guys, I would like to introduce you to Bella,” I said, gently scratching the top of her head.
Chapter 26
Coincidence and Connection
“Mom?” Jake’s flashlight beam bounced around aimlessly as he rushed from room to room. “Christa! Helloooo!”
We all stood together, loitering about the living room of Jake’s small apartment, while he stormed around. As much as I wanted to see Jake reunited with his family, part of me hoped he didn’t find them. What if they had ended up like Sara and Blake— or worse, like Gunther? Zander’s hand was but a whisper against my lower back. Bella leaned heavily against my leg, urging me to scratch at her ears.
Despite her “disability,” Bella had no trouble keeping up with the rest of us. For a creature with a missing a limb, that dog had amazing balance and agility and scaled the steps to Jake’s apartment far quicker than I would have thought possible. As far as I could see, the only time Bella would falter was when she moved slowly…another thing we had in common.
“What the hell happened down there, Liv?” Riley asked, stepping in front of me.
“Ry,” I said, stalling. “Maybe now is not the time—”
“You can’t protect us from this, Liv. This is our reality now, and we have a right to know the truth,” she said, crossing her arms.
“She’s right,” Micah agreed. “What happened to those people, Liv?”
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” I said.
“It just doesn’t make sense. They thought they would be safe,” Riley said, her voice shaking. “God, those poor, innocent people—”
“Are you kidding me, right now?” Anger burned in my gut, and I snapped. “You really want the truth, Ry? Fine. The truth is, those poor innocent people didn’t go to the community center because they thought they’d be safe. They went there, knowing they would die.”
“What do you…I don’t understand.” Riley’s eyes narrowed and her hand moved absently to the cross around her neck.
“Those people down there didn’t even try to fight, Ry. They gave up; just laid there with their Bibles and beads and burned to death while they waited for their God to save them,” I threw my hands in the air. “For shit’s sake, there were children in that prayer circle, Ry— babies!”
“Oh no,” Riley said, her face sinking.
“None of them made it?” Falisha asked quietly.
“There was one,” I said, lowering my eyes to the floor. “A man named was Gunther. He was hiding in the back room with Bella, but he didn’t last long.”
Bella’s ears flicked at the sound of her name and she looked up at me, her tongue hanging out. Her slender tail slapped happily against the floor and she nudged my hand, begging for attention. I scratched her behind her floppy ears, ignoring the blood under my fingernails and the lump in my throat.
“What happened down there, Liv?” Riley asked. “You look like you saw a ghost. Oh, God. You didn’t know him, did you?”
“Not before today,” I croaked. “But Gunther…he was in so much pain, Ry. Almost every inch of him was burned and blistered. His eyelids were just gone, his hair, his lips— even his tattoo.”
“Jesus,” Falisha said, lowering herself to the arm of the couch.
“He was suffering,” I said, trying to shake the visual from my mind. “He said that when the virus reaches the heart, you’re dead. I tried to help him, but he refused. I thought maybe if we could give him medicine he’d pull through, but he was just too far gone.”
“Oh, Liv,” Riley placed her hand on my shoulder and I fought not to shrug it off. “I’m so sorry.”
“The poor guy was delirious,” I said, stroking the smooth fur atop the dog’s head. “He shoved his stupid Bible at me, made me promise to take care of Bella. He said his dog was really important.”
“Wait, that dog?” Micah nodded in Bella’s direction, confused. “She was probably just a stray. Her ears and tail aren’t even cropped. What could be so important about a three-legged greyhound?”
“I don’t know, Micah, the guy wasn’t making any sense,” I said. “He just rambled on about leeches and finding salvation. He told me to follow the stars, or whate
ver, and then his eyes went all black and he started growling so I…then, he died.”
“Oh, Liv,” Riley said, wrapping her arms around my waist in an awkward hug. She held me at arm’s length and looked me over again. “And you’re sure you’re okay?”
“So you, like, literally, watched this guy die?” Falisha asked, her eyes wide.
“Yeah,” I said, answering both questions with the same half-truth.
“Damn,” Falisha said. “I don’t even—just, damn.”
“What did he say, exactly?” Zander stepped back and his shoulders stiffened.
“Umm, it was something like, you must find salvation.” My tone was dramatic. “The Scripture will guide you.”
“Was that it?” He pressed, gently grabbing my wrist. “Was that all he said?”
“It all happened so fast, Zan,” I said, my brows tightening. “I can’t be sure.”
“Please, Liv, it’s important.” Zander looked absolutely panicked.
“Let me think.” I closed my eyes and tried desperately to ignore the images in my head as I dug through the traumatic moments in that dark room with Gunther. “He said I had to use the book, his Bible. He told me to follow the stars, stay on the trail of blood. There was something about finding salvation and a golden blade?”
“He said salvation?” Zander asked, his brow furrowing. “You’re sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” I said, shaking my head in confusion. “But it doesn’t mean anything, Zander. He was dying and nothing he said made any—”
“Oh God,” Zander muttered, fisting his hair as he backed away. He looked stricken. “What have I done?”
“Zander, what’s going on?” I stepped towards him, but he took another step away from me and turned his back as Jake came barreling into the living room, all but crashing into me.
“Jake, what the—” I shrieked, nearly stepping on Bella’s one good front paw.
“They’re not here,” he gasped, sweat dripping down either side of his face. “Liv, I can’t find them. The place is empty. Mom’s purse is gone, and Christa’s cell is sitting on her dresser. She doesn’t go anywhere without her phone. This doesn’t make any sense.”
“Calm down, Jake. Try to think,” I said, grabbing him by the shoulders. “Where would they have gone?”
“They went to the hospital,” said Falisha, emerging from the kitchen with a mouth full of food. In one hand, she held a half-eaten piece of bread. In the other she held a sheet of loose-leaf paper. “Your mama left you a note.”
Jake ripped the paper from her hand, and read it aloud.
Jakey,
I tried you on your cell but couldn’t get through. Aunt Claire called, Grandma Jean’s pacemaker was on the fritz, so she had to take her to the hospital in Morrison. They still don’t know what happened, but they had to remove it. She is in the ICU, but they say she is stable for now. Chrissy and I ran over to check on her and bring your aunt something to eat. We will be home when visiting hours are over, so like 10-ish. If you get here before we do, see if you can get the computer working again. I need to print the Prom Hair Fair fliers to pass out tomorrow. I tinkered around with it for a while, but I’m pretty sure I just made it worse.
Mom
PS. I saved you some of my famous meatloaf. I know it’s your fave.
“Oh, thank God,” Jake sighed, crushing the note to his chest as he flopped heavily onto the couch. “I about had a stroke.”
“Prom Hair Fair?” Falisha laughed. “Classy.”
“Shut up,” Jake threw a pillow at her. “Laugh all you want, but she could work wonders on that clearance-rack weave of yours.”
“Psssht. This ain’t no weave,” Falisha snorted. She whipped the pillow back and hit him in the face, then smoothed her jet black hair out of her face. “This here, is all me.”
“Right,” Jake scoffed. “And I’m Lebron James.”
“So, what now?” asked Micah, stepping in between them and clearly annoyed. “We need to keep moving.”
“We got Jake home safe, but we need to keep moving,” I said. “Let’s take a breather, and then we’ll head out.”
“Kitchen’s that way,” Jake pointed, though didn’t get up. “Help yourself, guys, and take what you need. Oh, but I wouldn’t recommend the meatloaf, even on a good day.”
Riley dragged a very grumpy Micah off toward the kitchen in search of Doritos and caffeine. Falisha and Jake trailed after them, still arguing the merits of extensions versus a weave. Zander had wandered off in the chaos and stood next to the window, staring through the lacy curtains onto the dark and deserted streets below. I slowly made my way over, though I was unsure if my presence would be welcome. Bella followed me, her nails clicking against the hard floor.
“Bella, stay,” I whispered firmly, pointing down.
She huffed and shook her head in protest but in the end she lowered her lean haunches to the floor. Her tail tapped to the beat of my footsteps as I walked away from her. Zander’s shoulders tensed as I approached, but he did not turn to face me. I tentatively reached out to touch him, but pulled back at the last second in favor of standing silently at his side. The echoes of slamming cabinets and quiet chatter drifted in from the kitchen as snacks and beverages were passed around. I watched from the corner of my eye as Zander’s broad chest rose and fell. I matched my breathing to his and kept my questions in my head until finally, he spoke.
“That guy at the Community Center, Gunther; you said he had a tattoo.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes,” I said.
“What did it look like?” he asked.
“All I could make out was a wing, part of an anchor, and what I think was maybe the number nine,” I shrugged, looking up at him. “What does that have to do with—?”
“He was telling the truth,” he said, cutting me off again. His brows knit together, barely shadowing the storm in his eyes. “He was telling the truth, Liv, and I didn’t believe him.”
“Who Zan?” I asked, reaching for his blackened hand. His newly armored skin didn’t bother me and I needed him to know that. “Who was telling the truth?”
“My dad,” he huffed, pulling away again. He avoided my gaze and returned to staring out the window. “Everyone said he was crazy, Liv— that had seen too much, been through too much. The military discharged him, gave him some pills and said have a nice life. My mom had been gone for a long time by then, so it was just Dad and me. He would lock himself in that stupid room for hours at a time, talking to himself, rambling on about hell-fire and secret government bunkers.”
“Your dad was sick, Zan,” I said. “That’s not your fault.”
“He said they were out to get him; that he knew things he wasn’t supposed to know. He told me that I had to be ready, but I had no idea what he meant,” Zander pressed his forehead against the window. “When I turned seventeen, he gave me power of attorney. He said if anything ever happened to him, it would be up to me…but he didn’t tell me what the hell that meant for Christ’s sake!”
“What happened?” I asked, stepping closer to him. This time he didn’t step away.
“Eventually, he stopped take his meds all together and withdrew even more into his own world. He hardly slept, and he stopped talking. When he did, he only spoke in riddles. I didn’t know what to do, so I called his VA caseworker and asked for help,” Zander shook his head. “They recommended round the clock care, but I was just a kid, Liv, a junior in high school. The guy said they had a facility that specialized in difficult cases like my dad’s. They believed he suffered from paranoid psychosis and severe P.T.S.D. They said he was a danger to himself and others and that if I cared about him at all, I would sign the papers.”
“I don’t understand?” I said, searching his eyes.
“Liv, I had my own father committed,” he said. “I let them take him away.”
“Zander, it’s not your fault,” I said, reaching again for his hand. “Your dad was sick, and you were just doing what you thought was
best.”
“That’s just it, Liv. What if he wasn’t sick at all?” Zander asked.
“What do you mean?” I said, looking up at him.
“You know what my dad said to me as the armed escorts dragged him away?” He stepped closer, his eyes desperate. “I will remember them until the day I die, Liv. He said, follow the stars, son, salvation lies at the end of the golden blade.’”
“Whoa,” I said, my heart sinking into my stomach.
“At the time, I dismissed it as more of his insane ramblings,” Zander said, reaching into his back pocket. “But now? Liv he was trying to tell me something, something important.”
He pulled out his wallet and slid a faded picture from behind his driver’s license. He hesitated for a moment before placing it in my hand. The young man in the picture was handsome and well built, with the dark hair and dark eyes. He wore faded jeans and a simple black t-shirt and he was quite handsome. Despite the hard set of his jaw, the man’s eyes twinkled with mischief. It was taken in front of Zander’s motorcycle— his father’s motorcycle. One of the man’s arms rested on the shoulders of a wiry young boy with a crooked smile, the other was raised in salute.
“Look at this.” Zander pointed to a tattoo on his father’s arm; an eagle carrying an anchor, with the number 99 below. “Gunther, was a member of the Elite 99. He was part of the same special forces unit as my dad.”
“But, what does this mean?” I asked, staring down at the photograph in my hand.
“I don’t know, but we need to figure it out, and soon,” Zander said, retrieving the photo and tucking it back into his wallet. “Because I have the strangest feeling we are running out of time.”
Killshot (Icarus Series Book 1) Page 23