Last Day of My Life

by Lani Lynn Vale

  Grasping the chain with both hands, I plastered my feet against the wall for leverage and yanked. At first, nothing happened other than me expending energy I didn’t need to be wasting.

  Then it started to feel different. Like there was a little extra give in the chain, which only made me harder. I poured all of my pain, and rage out of my muscles, let them strain until I had nothing left to give.

  Which turned out to be enough.

  The chain ripped free from the bolt in the wall, and I went sprawling backwards. The chain sailed over my head.

  My eyes scanned around the area, looking for cameras, wondering if my activities were caught, but as far as I could tell, there weren’t any.

  I strained my ears and listened for any sign that they realized that I was loose, but there were none.

  I fought the urge to go to Winter and check on her, resisting only be sheer force of will. I needed to stay where I was in case they came back, and when they did, I’d be ready for them. I’d satisfied myself with the steady rise and fall of her chest. My years of military training seemed to fly out the fucking window when it came to her and that was not in her best interest.

  Coming to my knees and then to my feet, I backed up until my back was covering the offending hole in the wall, then palmed the length of the chain in one hand, while doubling it around the other hand so I wouldn’t lose it when I swung.

  My military career taught me to be resourceful in times of need. Hefting the weight of the chain in my hand, I decided this was one of the better weapons that I’d had the pleasure of using over the years. Could have been like that time I had to use a toilet brush.

  Although that time it had worked out, I definitely wouldn’t be choosing it for a weapon ever again if I had the choice.

  Click, click, click, click. The sound of expensive shoes hitting the concrete sounded from outside. The harsh staccato of footsteps echoed like gun shots, making my muscles tense in readiness.

  “Jack?” Winter asked from beside me.

  “Stay still.”

  “Jack what-” She started but then quickly stopped as the door opened once again and Edward stood there with a sly smile coming over his face.

  “Now, what did you think of my videos? They were cheaply made but-”

  The chain interrupted what he was going to say when it whipped out of my grasp like a whip and struck him across the face. Blood spurted from his nose, and he went down like an anvil in a cartwheel motion, finally coming to rest against the opposite wall, moaning and clutching his broken face.

  “Where’d you learn to do a thing like that?” Winter asked as she made a move to stand.

  I caught her by the hips as she started to fall, and propped her up against the wall for support. “I watched a lot of Indiana Jones when I was a kid. Dad loved it. I was him for Halloween through the ages seven through eleven.” I joked.

  What I didn’t want to discuss right now was how I became good at killing. It wasn’t something a woman needed to know, let alone my wife. Plus, I just plain didn’t want her to know. It’d be just one more black mark against me, and I wanted her to think I was a perfect gentleman, even if that couldn’t be further from the truth.

  Making sure she wouldn’t fall, I left her there and went to Edward who’d rolled over onto his back, still clutching his nose with both hands.

  Dropping down to a knee beside him, I looked into his eyes and made sure he read the warning that was there. “Is there anything you’d like to tell me?”

  “Fuck you.” He said just before trying to spit blood at me.

  I ducked sideways as he sprayed it. He’d accomplished nothing, seeing as I was nearly a foot and a half away from the direction he aimed for. One could never be too careful though, especially when it came to blood and body fluids.

  “Seeing double?” I asked cheerfully.

  “I’ll never tell you anything. You can kiss any cooperation you want from me goodbye.” He coughed.

  “That’s okay. I have your son for any information we need. You’re not the one I really want anyway. That son of yours though... well, he’s a different story.” I said as I bent down to search his pockets.

  I came up with a phone, a key ring, and an electronic device that I refused to think about at the moment, a gun on his ankle, and a silver pocket knife. Palming the phone, I gave it a flick of my wrist so it spun and spun across the floor until it came to rest at Winter’s feet.

  “Call Sam.” I said shortly.

  Light murmurs followed the dialing of the phone, and I ignored them to better concentrate on the man lying on the floor. “Now, let’s see what kind of deal we can work out.” I said as I cracked my knuckles by making a fist.

  ***

  Winter

  “I think you might want to hurry.” I said quickly.

  “We’re coming as fast as we can, honey.” Sam said softly.

  “You may want to come faster. If you don’t, I’m pretty sure Jack’s going to murder him.” I said, wincing at the sound of Jack’s fist as it met the flesh of Edward’s face.

  It wasn’t that I was bothered that he wanted to kill my supposed father; it was that I didn’t want Jack to have that on his conscience. He had enough to deal without me adding to it.

  “We’re already here, but we want to make sure no one is gonna surprise us when we come in.” He explained gently.

  He probably didn’t care in the least that my husband was about to kill my father. Not that they knew that juicy little fact yet. I didn’t feel like enlightening them either. Let the man suffer.

  My inner bitch was showing, wasn’t it? Okay, maybe I should stop him before he kills him, and has to go to jail. Or at least that’s what I kept telling myself.

  “Jack, do you think you could unhook me here? I have to pee.” I asked with a hint of pleading in my tone.

  Really, I just didn’t want to be here anymore. I wanted to go home. I wanted him to hold me, and tell me everything would be okay.

  He didn’t let me go, but did toss me the key ring. “Leave the cuffs open. We’ll strap him down when I’m done.”

  I nodded and got to work. The first three didn’t work, but four was the magic number. The lock clicked as it was released, and I tore my hand out of the cuff, scraping it on the metal as I went. Not that I cared. Being confined was bringing back horrid memories that I would rather not remember at all.

  Movement in my peripheral made me look towards the door. The site of Peter, again, made me shrink back against the wall and cry out. “Jack!”

  Zero hesitation.

  One second Peter was standing with a gun pointed in Jack’s direction, and the next he was down with Edward’s knife in his throat, courtesy of Jack’s quick hand.

  And just like that, the main character in my nightmare was dead. No threatening. No pleading. No fanfare. Jack took care of me, and he killed the man that haunted my dreams.

  “Good riddance.” I whispered, then more loudly asked, “What are you, Rambo or something?”

  A cough sounded from the room beyond ours. One after the other. Cough. Cough. Cough. Three, four, five, six. What the hell?

  Jack dragged Edward’s body unceremoniously to the chain, and, with deft movements, had him chained much the same was I was. Only this time he forewent the leather coverings and went straight for the metal on skin.

  “Get behind me.” He snapped.

  “Don’t get pissy with me, Jackopa!” I hissed, but did as I was told anyway.

  The man didn’t have to take his unhappiness out on me, no matter what the situation.

  “Please.” He said with a hint of a smile in his voice.

  A bird called.

  What the hell was that? Was that a bird? “Are there birds in here?” I whispered.

  A loud exhale followed my question. “No, but you can breathe now. It’s just Sam.”

  “Was Sam a bird in his former life?” I asked with a little too much smartass in my voice.

  “No, but we’ve work
ed with each other for a long time. We know the calls each of us uses to announce ourselves.”

  “Was that him coughing out there?” I asked curiously, as the tension released from my body.

  My head found his back, and I leaned into him, wrapping my arms around his body from behind. He stiffened slightly, and I felt a little knot of fear settle deep in my belly.

  “Probably. But it wasn’t coughing ‘per say.’ That was silenced gun fire.”

  My eyes widened. “What?”

  “Yeah, they always have my back.”

  The way he said that made me feel like, at times, I didn’t have his. Besides, I guess there was some partial truth to that. I’d been clingy and needy over the past four months, never helping him out. I was the one who needed help, not the other way around.

  Jack answered Sam’s call with one of his own. Only he used English this time instead of Angry Bird language. “Clear.”

  His deep voice echoed in the room, and I spared a glance down to study my father.

  He was conscious and staring daggers at Jack. He did look like he’d seen better days. Both eyes were swelled mostly shut. His lip was split. His nose was most definitely broken from the whip of the chain across his face. Teeth were missing all over the front of his mouth, and I couldn’t scrounge up one iota of sympathy for the man.

  “I’m going to end you.” He said.

  I startled when I realized he was looking at me now.

  “I highly doubt that. You’ll be lucky to breathe using a machine once we get done with you.” Jack rumbled.

  I felt the vibration of it against my cheek as he spoke and smiled down at the man. “My man knows how to hold on to something. If it means something to him, he’ll never let it go. Your death means something to him, so I know he’ll never let it go. Even if you make it out of here today, you won’t stay free for long. You’re done.”

  The tension in Jack disappeared at my statement. He squeezed me tight and pulled me in front of him. Sam and James, with Gabe a little further behind, entered the room, stepping unceremoniously over the dead body of Peter.

  “No one left. Can y’all wipe the system?” Sam asked.

  Jack nodded and dropped back down to one knee. Glancing down, I noticed he had some sort of box with an antenna and a blinking red light on it. “What’s that?” I asked.

  Jack ignored me and waved the box in front of Edward’s beaten face. “What’s this wired to?”

  He gurgled something and then smiled. Or at least tried to. It looked more like a grimace of pain with the split lips, broken nose, and toothless smile.

  “We need to get out. He has the place wired.”

  Evil laughter followed his announcement. “You’ll never make it out in time. If I don’t type in the pass code every fifteen minutes, it blows.”

  It sounded more like a gurgle, but most of what he said I could make out.

  Fear settled low in my gut, but I didn’t have the time to process it in the slightest. Jack had me over his shoulder within seconds, and we were all running. Jack was following the others, and I had a wonderful view of his backside.

  Which is why I saw the man step out from a door we just passed with a gun raised in his grasp.

  Helpless, I watched as he gave me a wink before pulling the trigger.

  Blood splattered my face as the bullet tore through Jack’s chest.

  “Fuck!” He wheezed and stumbled before catching his stride again. “Someone’s at our six.”

  Two quick shot successions fired from somewhere, and the man went down.

  Jack kept running, only slowing down once to reposition me as we turned the corner. Sunlight filled the white hallway with brilliant beams, and I’ve never been so happy to see the light of day before, even if it was upside down and backwards.

  We made it just past the threshold and out into the cool sunny day when the world exploded. The last thing I heard was Jack’s voice.

  “Catch!”

  Then I was airborne.

  Chapter 21

  There isn’t a day that goes by that, at some point, I don’t think of you.

  -A note written by jack

  Winter

  Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

  I peeled my eyes open, thinking that whatever was fucking beeping needed to die. It needed to die soon. My head hurt. My body hurt. My stomach hurt. I was cramping, and I thought it was the cruelest thing Mother Nature could ever do to give me my period when I felt so bad.

  But these were worse than I’d ever felt before. So much worse that I started thinking that something was seriously wrong with me. It wasn’t normal for me to be cramping this bad.

  “Jack.” I moaned.

  Nothing.

  Just the damned beeping.

  “Jack.” I cried again.

  Still nothing.

  Making my eyes open proved to be a chore. They felt like they were glued shut. My eyes finally did open, but it felt like I broke through a layer of glue to do so.

  My vision was bleary, and I didn’t know if it was because of the pain I was experiencing, or the fact that I’d obviously went on a bender last night and didn’t mean to.

  Except I wasn’t in my room. I was in a hospital room. The wall to my left was a bank of windows that showed me the dark black rain clouds that looked about as dreary as I felt. Then I saw the reason for the beeping.

  Heart monitor. Blood pressure. IV drip.

  The long tubing ran down to a port in my vein which was covered in a clear tape to keep it in place. My bottom half was covered in the hospital issued beige blanket that was common for nearly every health care facility. To my right was a wall of blinds, and then towards the back of the room was the door leading out to the hallway.

  Turning my head carefully, I found the button on the side of the bed that was red and pressed the button.

  “Can I help you?” A nasally voice asked.

  She was obviously bored, if the tone of her voice was anything to go by.

  “Jack.” I croaked.

  Another vicious cramp tore through me, and I very nearly threw up from the pain of it.

  The door to the room pushed open, and a cute little nurse that looked to be the age of my sister came in. Her scrubs were midnight blue, and she was wearing those ugly Crocs that nurses seemed extremely fond of.

  “Hey, sweetie. How are you feeling?” She asked sweetly.

  “Hurts. Where’s Jack?”

  A look of pity crossed her face before she masked it with her blank nurse face. “Where does it hurt?”

  “Cramps.”

  She frowned and moved the edge of the hospital blanket down. That’s when I saw the growing pool of blood between my legs. Nausea burned in my stomach again, and this time I lost it.

  Not again.

  “No, Jack. No.” I cried.

  “This will help.”

  And it did. I was out as soon as the coolness spread all the way down my arm.

  ***

  Taima

  “When the hell did they have time to make a will in the past few months? It’s even signed by a lawyer! This is total bull shit!” I said, begging, pleading with someone to help.

  I knew it was impossible, but still, somewhere deep down, I knew that this wasn’t the end.

  “The will was made over seven years ago. It was done the year that they married. It clearly states that they have a DNR. They also said that no medical advancements should be made in the event that something life threatening was to happen. They didn’t want to survive on machines.” The doctor explained with a hint of pity in his voice.

  “That was then, this is now! Who do I need to talk to have this shit over ridden?” I screamed.

  “You would need to speak with a judge. Unfortunately, your brother just doesn’t have that time. I’m sorry. If he stops breathing again, he won’t be resuscitated this time.”

  I turned as the doctor walked away and looked at all the faces of Jack’s friends. His family. The women were crying. The me
n wore somber faces. The kids were blissfully oblivious, and it made me jealous.

  I was going to lose the brother I never got the chance to know. All because I was a bastard and refused to ask for help when I clearly needed it. First Catori and now this.

  Fuck, I couldn’t do this. Not now. Not when I needed him the most.

  Winter was having a miscarriage. Her second and Jack wasn’t going to be here to help her if she got better. When she got better.

  Thunder boomed overhead, and I turned my head so I could see out the window.

  The clouds were moving at an alarming rate. The sky was black, and lit up periodically with bright flashes of lightening that streaked across the night sky.

  “We didn’t hear all that was said,” Gabe said. “Can you tell us what’s going on with them?”

  I turned my attention away from the darkening sky to the man that looked about as horrible as I felt. His face was a mass of colored bruises, and he was wearing a sling around his arm to keep it in place due to a dislocated shoulder when he was thrown.

  James and Sam were in much the same condition, minus the shoulder problem, and I’ve never felt more grateful for someone, other than my firehouse brother’s, in my life.

  “Jack,” My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat and tried again. “Jack stopped breathing on the way to the hospital, but they were unaware of his DNR, so they revived him. Once he made it to the ER, they became aware of his medical wishes. Now, the doctor says it’s only a matter of time before it happens again, and this time they won’t revive him.”

  “What about Winter?” Cheyenne pushed in, leaning against Sam’s side.

  “Much the same. Trauma from the explosion. She’s got some swelling on the brain that’s causing some problems. About half an hour ago, she woke up and said she was experiencing abdominal cramping and pain. The doctor checked her over and found that she was going through a miscarriage.”

  Gasps of surprise and devastation played throughout the room, and I couldn’t help but feel much the same. Jack had told me about Winter losing their first just two nights before. He’d told me how devastated he was about it and how he regretted enlisting in the military more than anything else he’d ever done in his entire life.