Dying Light

by Kory M. Shrum

  “We’re both trying to work right now. I have Jesse. You have Jeremiah and Natalie’s memory. We can’t build a loving commitment under conditions like this.”

  Jesse stands in front of the truck, waiting.

  Nikki gives my hands a squeeze. “I’m still holding out for our happily ever after.”

  “We should focus on what needs to be done and if someday things change—”

  Nikki kisses me, cutting off my words.

  A little embarrassed that everyone in the fire truck is surely watching, I break the kiss.

  Nikki gives me a sad little smile. “Don’t let Jesse talk you into anything reckless. Be the voice of reason.”

  “I’ll try. And don’t let Jeremiah take your loyalty for granted.”

  Nikki pushes my hair back behind my ears, her expression heartbroken. “If you need me, call. You know I’ll come running.”

  Chapter 58

  Jesse

  “Sweet Gee-zus.” I’m going to throw up in my mouth if I have to watch Sasquatch slobber on Ally for a second longer. “How long is this going to take?”

  “Don’t enjoy a bit of snogging?” Gideon says. “I do.”

  “I don’t know what snogging is, but it sounds way dirtier than what they’re doing.”

  “It’s British for kissing,” Maisie says, feeding Winston bits of beef jerky.

  “How the hell do you know that?” I ask.

  “Harry Potter, duh,” she says. “Haven’t you read them? I have. Twice.”

  I snort. “Do I look like I have time to read books?”

  “My boy Kevin loves ‘dem books,” a man says.

  I jump in my seat, whirling toward the sound. “Holy shit, where did you come from?”

  Monroe blinks wide eyes at me. “I didn’t mean to scare you, miss.”

  “He’s coming with us.” Gloria’s face and tone definitely have an I-dare-you-to-say-otherwise fierceness about them.

  I shrug. “Whatever. If he stabs me in the brain with an ice pick, it’s your ass I’ll be haunting.”

  “Do you really think we should swear so much in front of a child?” Gideon asks.

  Maisie gives him a drop-dead stare. “I’m not a child. I’m sixteen.”

  Gideon gives her a devilish grin. “My apologies, madam.”

  I glare at him. He looks away.

  “How old is your kid?” Maisie asks, shoveling a piece of the jerky into her mouth, despite Winston’s whining.

  “Thirteen,” Monroe says. “He loves books and airplanes. They’s his two favorite things.”

  At long last, Ally climbs into the truck, leaving Sasquatch on the sidewalk like a lost puppy.

  I snort.

  “What’s so funny?” Maisie asks.

  I consider making a Sasquatch joke, but Ally doesn’t look too happy herself.

  I frown at her. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Ally says.

  I don’t believe her, but with Monroe breathing over my shoulder and Maisie staring at me with half a piece of jerky hanging from her mouth, it’s hardly the time to talk.

  I turn to Gideon, waiting for him to fire this truck up. “Do you think we can fit this thing through a drive-thru?”

  We do not find a drive-through. Most of Chicago is either shut down or in complete chaos. Also, it turns out that taking a fire truck through a drive-thru is a bad idea, since this truck is stolen.

  Instead, we drive the truck an hour southeast to Gary, Indiana. I have to say, this place looks more apocalyptic than Chicago did, and Chicago was in flames. We pull off the interstate into a desolate town with run-down, not-at-all-white houses and crappy roads.

  Gideon stops the truck at a junkyard. A high fence topped with barbed wire runs along the perimeter. Behind the fence, cars in various conditions stretch as far as the eye can see.

  “Wait here.” Gideon slides off the driver’s seat, hopping down to the gravel road. A man a little darker than Gideon comes out of a squat brick building and meets him halfway. They are laughing and talking in a language I don’t understand.

  “This is shady,” Ally says from her seat behind me. Maisie and Winston are sleeping upright on the end of Rachel’s cot. I have to give the kid props. I’m not sure I could have taken a nap by a dead body when I was sixteen. I don’t think I was that desensitized to crazy by then.

  It makes me wonder if my childhood would’ve been worse if my father had come back for me. Or maybe not worse, but just as bad in a different way.

  We wait in the truck as Gideon and his friend pull two cars up front and begin affixing license plates to the back.

  “Really shady,” Ally says.

  “I don’t care if there’s a body in that trunk as long as someone buys me a freaking pizza. Or a veggie burger,” I beg. “I’m so hungry. I’ve never been so hungry in my life.”

  Gideon finally returns. “Okay, get your things. We’re leaving the truck here.”

  Gloria helps Maisie and Winston climb down, and then Ally and I follow. Monroe and Gideon carry Rachel out of the back of the truck to the larger of the two cars. Apparently we’re taking this rust-colored clunker to Nashville. It’s a boat, as wide as it is long. A faded name brand is scrawled in silver script above the bumper. They prop Rachel up in the backseat and lean her against the door like she’s a sleeping person.

  “I’ll sit beside her,” Gideon says.

  “I’ll sit in the back too,” Maisie says and gives Gideon a sheepish sideways glance.

  Oh, you like him. I almost say it, but I don’t want to embarrass the kid.

  “Why two cars?” Ally asks.

  “I’m going to take Monroe home,” Gloria says. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

  “You’re leaving?” I whine. “Why?”

  “You’ll be able to find us?” Ally says.

  Gloria smiles. “Yes. I won’t be long. I promise.”

  Ally hugs her. Then it’s my turn.

  “Don’t push yourself,” I say.

  Gideon gives her a polite nod.

  Maisie grabs Gloria and hugs her though. Gloria’s face breaks open with a surprised smile. “It’s good to see you again, Maisie. Take care of yourself.”

  “You too.”

  We watch Gloria and Monroe get into a car and drive away.

  “He better not kill her,” I say.

  “Jackson could fillet him three ways,” Gideon says. “Now, shall we be off?”

  “I’ll drive,” Ally volunteers.

  “What about the fire truck?” I ask.

  “Ahmed will take care of it.” Gideon gestures to the man wiping his hands with an oil rag.

  We all climb into the car. Gideon slides in next to Rachel and Maisie climbs into the back, pulling the door closed behind her. I take shotgun up front by Ally.

  “She’s breathing,” Maisie says, and points at the window where Rachel’s breath is fogging the glass.

  “Thank god,” Ally says, adjusting the mirrors. “Now I don’t have to worry about being pulled over with a dead body in the car.”

  Chapter 59

  Jesse

  Seven hours later, we make the first of three stops in Nashville, my office. Rachel, Gideon, and Maisie wait in the car while Ally and I go in. We do a walkthrough and take everything important. The petty cash, the address book and so on. Ally digs a couple of file folders out of a cabinet and stuffs them into her canvas bag.

  “I’m going to bring these granola bars and cookies too. Hopefully they’re not stale,” Ally says. “Jesse? Are you okay?”

  Am I okay? I don’t know. I’m standing in the office as if I’ve never been here before. In my mind I can see myself at the desk, two years ago, giving potential clients pre-death advice. And now—how did I get here? What happened to me?

  A man’s voice echoes down the hall and my heart lurches. Lane. Lane must be in his comic book store. A flood of anxiety washes over me. My skin itches and my heart pounds.

  “Jesse?”

 
“I’m okay,” I answer. “I’ll be right back.”

  She tucks her hair behind her left ear, her canvas bag hanging loosely in her right grip. “Make it quick.”

  I open the door to the little hallway that connects the comic book store and my office, passing by the two little bathrooms, their doors partially ajar and rooms dark.

  I hesitate at the thought that his door might be locked, another rejection. But the cold handle turns in my grip easily and the door swings inward.

  A couple of kids sit on the huge couches playing a video game. Four more are at a table in the corner, laying down cards in turn and laughing riotously. Lane is up at the counter, selling a girl an energy drink from a Coca-Cola cooler behind the desk. I’m surprised by the volume of people. It must be Friday. I can’t even keep track of days anymore.

  He sees me.

  Halfway between giving the girl her change and drink, our eyes meet. The coins clatter on the glass countertop. The drink slips from his grip to hers.

  “Sorry,” he mumbles.

  She shrugs it off, scoops up the money and goes back to her friends on the couch.

  I cross the room, hyperaware of how my heart is pounding in my ears. Did you only love me because Caldwell made you? “Hey,” I say.

  “Hey,” he says, matching my reserve. “You look great.”

  “Well, you know, I killed someone and now I can heal on the spot. It’s better than makeup.”

  His brow furrows.

  “You never called me.”

  He looks down. “I know. I was going to, about a hundred times but—”

  “How do you feel about me now?” I ask him. When Caldwell’s not in your head making you love me.

  He meets my eyes.

  My heart lurches.

  “I miss you,” he says. “I miss walking into your office and seeing you there. I must have driven past your house a hundred times in the last two months. I cut your yard once in October. We had a warm spell.”

  I don’t know what to say. I squeeze the edge of the counter, trying to steady my weak knees.

  “But something’s changed,” he goes on. “I’m not sure what, but something’s changed.”

  Caldwell hasn’t been around whispering into your ear.

  “Maybe you’re over me.” I try to sound casual, but it feels like a giant hand is in my chest, squeezing my heart and lungs to a pulp. “It happens.”

  “But I’m happy to see you,” he says.

  “I’m leaving tonight. I’d tell you where I’m going but—” Caldwell will pluck it from your brain.

  “You’re leaving?” he frowns. “Already?”

  Maybe what he felt was real. Before Dad talked to him, Maisie had said. But did it matter? Am I here because I want Lane back? No, I don’t think so.

  “Caldwell’s not dead,” I tell him. “Until he’s dead, I’ll always be leaving.”

  He wraps his arms around me. I startle then soften into his embrace. It feels real. I see the shadow of a wing in my periphery, and turn my head ever so slightly. Gabriel stands there in all his glory, his green eyes bright.

  I remember Ally in the beach house. Ally with her cute high ponytail and brilliant smile.

  I showed you your heart’s desire.

  I pull out of Lane’s embrace. No, it doesn’t matter how Lane really feels. I know what I want.

  “Take care of yourself,” Lane says, sensing my departure. “Maybe I’ll see you around?”

  I force a smile. “Anything is possible.”

  Chapter 60

  Ally

  Jesse is quiet in the passenger seat on the short ride from her office to her house. I really hope that Lane didn’t say anything cold or cruel. It’s possible, given her silence. I couldn’t discourage her from seeing him though. My parting with Nikki is fresh in my mind. I understand firsthand that if we hadn’t said our goodbyes, a sense of unfinished business would pervade, and we need to focus, regroup.

  “We’re going to grab some important documents, clothes, and food, then we’re off,” I say, turning my mind to business. I use the rearview mirror to look into the backseat at Maisie, Gideon, and Rachel. “Maisie, you’re almost as tall as Jesse. She’ll have something for you to wear.”

  “We have to hurry. I want to get to the cemetery before dark.” Rachel tilts her neck from one side to the other.

  I imagine she must be as stiff and uncomfortable as Jesse is after a death replacement. But Rachel refused the ibuprofen I took from Jesse’s office. I sigh. Having a second, equally stubborn, headstrong, smartass woman around won’t be easy.

  Gideon keeps close watch on the device in his hand. “We should still be invisible to cameras, but given Caldwell’s familiarity with Jesse’s home, we should get in and out as quickly as possible. No doubt he’s watching the place.”

  We pull up outside Jesse’s house not five minutes later and everyone files out.

  “Gideon and I will get the food,” Rachel volunteers.

  “I’ll get Winston’s stuff,” Maisie says.

  “It’s in the kitchen pantry. Can you take him out to the backyard to pee too? That’d be a big help,” I tell her. Once we’re alone, I turn to Jesse. “While I’m getting our papers, can you pack a suitcase? Clothes, toiletries, anything that’ll keep us out of the stores for a couple of days. Gideon’s device seems to work well, but I don’t want to press our luck.”

  She nods and trudges up the stairs to her bedroom. I hear the closet door creak open and the soft thud of the suitcase hitting the bed.

  It takes me a few minutes to tuck all the important files into a small box and tape it shut. Rachel and Gideon dump four canvas grocery sacks of food on the foyer floor. Rachel holds up a bottle of tequila and smiles.

  “The drink of my people,” she says with a sultry stare. “We will definitely break this open later.”

  “I know how to salsa,” Gideon coos, handing her several shot glasses.

  “Great. You can teach me,” Rachel says.

  I’m not sure how to respond to this banter, so I start picking up bags and boxes and carrying them out to the car. I come in the third time and know something is wrong.

  The energy of the house has changed.

  “Jesse?” I ask.

  “He’s here,” Rachel says, her voice venomous.

  I follow her voice into the living room.

  Caldwell stands in the middle of the room holding Maisie in a loose headlock. Gideon is in a corner, his back protected on all sides, which is very smart given Caldwell’s inclination to pop in and out. Rachel stands beside him, her fingers twitching in expectation. Jesse stands in front of the half-bath where she must have tucked Winston, given the howling and scratching radiating from the shut door.

  “We aren’t finished,” Caldwell says. “Come with me. Both of you.” His eyes flick from Jesse to Rachel.

  “No,” I say.

  He glares at me. “You’re welcome to join us, Alice. But the dog and the desert brat, I’ve no use for.”

  “Let go of her and maybe we won’t kill you,” Rachel says.

  “So we come with you and you let her go?” Jesse asks.

  “Don’t,” Maisie says, her face red. “I’m not worth it.”

  “You are worth it,” Jesse says. “Do you hear me? You are.”

  “Maisie understands her place,” Caldwell says. “She knows her mother needs her.”

  “That’s bullshit,” I say. “No good mother wants her daughter to die.”

  I think he’ll disappear and reappear in front of me. Maybe he’ll snap my neck. Maybe he’ll crush my throat. I’m not the only one who senses Caldwell’s intentions. The shield goes up, shimmering around me.

  “Protect yourself,” I tell Jesse.

  Jesse gives no sign that she heard me. All of her attention is on Maisie.

  “It’s okay,” Maisie says again. “Really. It’s okay. Don’t get hurt because of me.”

  Rachel’s hands twitch and Maisie is tugged from Caldwell’s
arms. His grip loosens, surprised. Jesse runs forward and grabs hold of Caldwell. As soon as she has her hands on him, her body erupts in flames. Caldwell wrenches himself away but he’s on fire.

  Screaming, he disappears.

  I yank the door to the bathroom open and grab Winston. Rachel and Gideon grab the remaining bags off the foyer floor, and the four of us flee the house. Jesse is the only one still inside.

  My heart aches. Everything Jesse worked so hard for, this life she built for herself after Eddie, it’s all burning. Burning to the ground.

  Chapter 61

  Jesse

  For a minute, I stand in the burning house and watch what’s left of my old life go up in flames. If I stay here, I will die, and I’ll put everyone else at risk. Ally will insist on staying here until they can recover my body, and it isn’t safe for her.

  I’m still on fire when I walk out of the house. I have enough sense not to get into the car until I’ve managed to extinguish my flames though. I take a deep breath and the flames go out.

  Maisie runs up to me in the yard. For a second, I think she’s going to hit me, but she doesn’t. “You’re stupid! You should’ve let me go with him.”

  “You’re stupid if you want to be with him.”

  “This is what he wants!” She throws up her hands. “When he had me he was talking in my head. He told me I have to watch you, learn all about you and your friends. He said that if I don’t tell him everything, he’s going to hurt my mom.”

  I grab hold of her and squeeze hard. She tries to pull away.

  “He’s going to hurt my mom. I can’t stay with you.”

  I squeeze her a little harder and she goes soft. Her soft sobs vibrate against my chest.

  “It’s okay,” I tell her, placing a hand on her head. “Let the bastard spy if he wants. But you’re staying with us.”

  “I’m going to get you killed,” she sobs. “You have to let me go.”

  “No,” I tell her. “We need you. Who’s going to take care of Winston while I’m fighting assholes?”

  Ally comes up on the other side of us and wraps her arms around us both, sandwiching Maisie between us.