Redemption

by Ever N. Hayes

  Now I just had to get back. I swung down and headed back the way I’d come. I had made it almost twenty yards when motion in my periphery brought me to a sudden halt. Two soldiers had come down to the water’s edge—under the bridge—apparently to relieve themselves. I looked down toward where Danny had been a minute earlier, but he wasn’t there anymore. I glanced around frantically as my arm muscles screamed at me. I knew I couldn’t move, but in a minute I’d be falling. In a minute I’d be dead. I closed my eyes. A sudden swooshing in the water prompted me to reopen my eyes, and I glanced behind me toward the soldiers. I watched Danny rise out of the water with my bow in hand. From about five feet away, he put an arrow through one soldier’s throat. That soldier staggered back against the bridge base, clutching at his neck. The other soldier heard the commotion behind him and turned—mid leak—to see Danny flying at him. Too startled to yell and too off guard to defend himself, the man didn’t put up much resistance as Danny covered his mouth and slammed his head against the bridge wall once, twice, and then pulled him into the river. Convinced he was dead, Danny quickly glanced around to see if anyone else was coming, and then he looked up at me, waving for me to continue.

  I tried to move, but I couldn’t. My arms had no strength left. I looked down at Danny in a panic, and he seemed to read my thoughts immediately. He knew I was going to fall—there’d be a hundred soldiers under here soon.

  Tears stung my eyes as the failure overwhelmed me. I tried to push on, but it was no use. I made it about ten more feet before my arms couldn’t take it anymore. I looked below me at the water and knew it was only a couple of feet deep. If I went in horizontally a hundred soldiers would investigate the gigantic splash. If I went in straight up and down—feet first—I’d break my legs or spine. It was a coin toss decision with both sides meaning death.

  As I was about to let go, I heard a gunshot echo off the bridge walls. I closed my eyes and released my grip, convinced someone was shooting at me—convinced I was going to die. But a split second before I hit the water, I heard an explosion and knew that wasn’t the bridge. Something else had blown up.

  I tucked my legs at the last second as I entered the river, shielding myself from some of the impact. Danny saved me from the rest. His arms were around me as I hit the water, before even my feet struck the rocks. He pulled me under with him, as soldiers scurried beneath the bridge—seeking cover. He put a breathing tube in my mouth and covered me with my ghost suit. He slipped underneath me—with his arms wrapped around me—and kicked us both away from the bridge. The current did the rest—carrying us quickly downstream. About eighty yards from the bridge, we finally surfaced next to a small dam of debris from the Seven Oaks Dam—chunks of the middle section Qi Jia had destroyed.

  “That was so smooth.” I couldn’t contain my amazement.

  “My Princess Bride moment.”

  “What?” Princess Bride?

  “Never mind. You’re welcome.”

  We rolled over the top of the rocks and into the pool of water at the base of the dam. We were finally able to stand—which felt amazing! “So, what happened?” I asked.

  “Blake blew up one of the trucks,” Danny replied, leading me back into the water.

  “Why? How did he—”

  “I told him to.” Danny held up the radio. “We needed a diversion to draw the soldiers away from your fall,” he answered, pointing across the bridge. “They’re going to be looking around for who fired that shot though. We don’t have a lot of time.”

  “What do you need from me?”

  “Do you think you can hit that dynamite cube from here?”

  “What?” I looked back at the bridge and the tiny box hanging from the middle beam. Are you serious?

  “Do you think you can hit that dynamite cube from here?”

  “Danny, that’s like ninety yards.” I shook my head. No freaking way. That’s like hitting a quarter from forty yards away. “I won’t be able to stand upright without being seen. I’d have to shoot from a pretty awkward stance. What about the rifle?”

  Danny was shaking his head now. “It’s not an option. I left it with Blake, but his shot got everyone’s attention. He can’t move now. That shot—”

  He didn’t have to say more. In the original plan, Blake was going to shoot the dynamite. But Blake had needed to use his shot to save me. I’m plan B. “Danny, I’ve only got three arrows.”

  “I know.” He smiled weakly. “But you only need one, right?”

  From ninety yards? “If I’m really really lucky.”

  “Luck has nothing to do with it, Hayley. This is for all those hours shooting at cans and bottle caps. For all the times Dad told you archery wasn’t going to get you anywhere…for every date you took with your bow instead of a boy.” He was trying to build my confidence, but it wasn’t working. “You love trick shots. I just need you to hit this one.”

  Shit. “Okay.” No pressure. “I’ll try.”

  “You’ve got to do more than—”

  “Danny…I know.”

  Everyone in Hawaii is counting on you, Hayley. Let’s do this.

  SIXTY-THREE – Tequila Sunrise (Tara)

  ---------- (Thursday. August 11, 2022.) ----------

  At the Hexagon Clinic on Oahu. Hawaii.

  When I woke up, the clock beside my bed read 10:28. By the sun streaming in the windows I knew it was morning—finally—and no longer the world’s longest night. I slowly rolled my head to the left, uncertain where I was. The bright smile that greeted me jolted me back to life, and all of a sudden I could see, hear, and feel everything. Every inch of my body hurt—most of all my heart. My head was pounding like I’d chugged a fifth of Jose Cuervo and then beat myself with it. The tears began to flow. “Baby.” Even whispering hurt. I winced. Dear God…

  “Hi, Mommy. You’re awake!”

  Is she yelling? “Shhh…yes. Hi baby.” My throat was so incredibly dry. I tried to move my arms, but I quickly realized they were strapped to the bed and I was loaded up with tubes. Emily laid her head on my chest in a gentle hug and I closed my eyes. I needed something for the pain. “Is there a nurse around, Em?”

  “I’ll get one, Mom.”

  Still yelling.

  “Don’t move, Mom.”

  Don’t worry. I won’t. “Okay.”

  Emily ran out of the room. My head was pounding, and the light was making it much worse, but I forced myself to open my eyes again and take in the rest of the room. Another person was sleeping in the bed next to me, also with IV tubes in her arms. “Kate?” She didn’t reply. “Kate.” I tried again.

  “She’s out,” a female voice said, and I saw a nurse approach.

  “Is she okay?” I was tearing up again.

  “She will be. She made it through surgery. She lost a lot of blood. She’s fighting off pneumonia. She’s—”

  “She’s going to be okay?”

  “We think so.” She unstrapped my left arm and began checking my vitals.

  There were a dozen bands on my left arm. I had to be on a lot of crap. Another thought hit me, as I vaguely remembered the helicopter coming in and picking us up. I reached up and grabbed her hand. “Ryan?”

  The nurse looked confused. “I’m sorry. I don’t know who that is.”

  “My husband. It’s my husband. He was on the island with me. Did they find him?”

  The nurse looked out into the hallway. I tried to see around her, but I couldn’t see who or what she was looking at. “I…” She was clearly uncomfortable. “I…give me a minute.” She walked briskly out the door.

  A minute later, another familiar face appeared in the doorway. “Oh my God. Reagan.”

  She stepped into the room, glancing at Kate before hurrying to my side. “It’s so good to see you.” Reagan took my hand.

  More tears. Suddenly panic overtook my chest, as I realized Emily hadn’t come back in. Had I been imagining her? And where was Ollie? “Is Emily…” Owww! “Ollie?”

  “They’re
in the hall with everyone else. You just saw Emily, and Ollie is fine.”

  Everyone? “Everyone’s out there? Ryan?”

  Reagan paused, but I read her face clearly. “No, honey.” Another pause. “I’m sorry.”

  My lower lip quivered uncontrollably, and a deep sob forced its way up through my chest. No! Reagan bent over, gently leaning her head against mine, and I felt her tears mix with mine. “I’m sorry, Tara. We haven’t found him.”

  I sobbed as Reagan held me for a few more minutes, and then she pulled away and I collected myself enough to ask more about Ollie.

  “He’s fine,” Reagan assured me. “I’m taking care of him—don’t worry. He was pretty dehydrated and scraped up but he’s in much better shape than you two.” When I didn’t laugh she continued. “Anyway, he’s with Emily and Abbey now.”

  “Abbey’s okay too?”

  “Yes. And Sam, Trigger, Twix, Deacon, and Royce. They’re all out there.”

  I heard her say Sam but thought she’d misspoken and my head hurt too much to call her on it now. Did that nurse give me anything for the pain? I don’t think she did! “Reagan, they can come in.”

  “Uh, Tara.” Reagan glanced at my body, and I looked down. Holy shit. I was pretty much naked but covered in a hundred bandages. “They took an awful lot of glass out of you. You were really cut up.”

  “I guess they can stay out there.” I laughed briefly, but that really hurt. There were other people Reagan hadn’t mentioned.

  “Is Grandpa Dan—”

  “No.” Reagan shook her head. “Haven’t found him. Kaci…” She continued to shake her head.

  “Jenna?”

  “We found her, but…” Reagan’s voice trailed off.

  “But?” I knew she was dead but for some reason I needed to hear it.

  “It’s honestly best you don’t see her. You wouldn’t…” Her facial expression and quivering voice completed the sentence for me.

  I wouldn’t recognize her. I reached out for Reagan’s hand again, and she interlaced her fingers with mine. “Have we heard anything from Danny?”

  Another head shake. “No.”

  Dang it. “Reagan, I really really need something for this pain. Please.” I squeezed her hand tightly as a nauseating wave washed over me. I closed my eyes until it passed and then opened them, releasing Reagan’s hand.

  “Let me grab the nurse again.” Reagan stood.

  “Do we even know if they’re alive?” I knew that was a rhetorical question. She’d have told me if they did.

  “We know they made it to Cheyenne Mountain—that’s it. None of the guys have heard anything since.”

  There was a sudden commotion in the hallway. Reagan stood and looked out the door. “What is it?” I tried to sit up and see but couldn’t.

  “Shit,” Reagan muttered. “It’s the governor.”

  I heard a stream of curses. “What’s he so angry about?”

  “He must have just found out about his wife.”

  “His wife?”

  “Yes. She was being held with us at the pink house.”

  “Where is she now?”

  Reagan paused and glanced back down the hall. “She’s dead.”

  “Dead?”

  “She killed herself. We only had four air tanks when the basement flooded. One of us wasn’t going to make it out. She made the decision for us.”

  “And he’s just finding out now?”

  Reagan didn’t answer the question. “Get some rest, Tara. Kate should be awake in a couple hours. She’s really going to need you. Her baby didn’t make it.”

  Damn it! I knew it. My head hurt so much, and my eyes were so heavy I knew I needed the sleep. I just didn’t want it. “Hey, take care of my—”

  “I will,” Reagan assured me as the nurse came back in. “I’ll be right out here if you need me.”

  “Thank you,” I addressed Reagan first then focused on the nurse. “Thank God. Please tell me you can help with this pain.”

  The nurse smiled. “I will. I’ll take care of it.”

  I closed my eyes again as she played around with the machines next to me. “Oh, hey…”

  “Yes?”

  The nurse’s voice sounded really far away. “I was reading all these bracelets on my arm…and I think…” My speech sounds really slow—almost slurred. “I think you messed up. You messed up.” Am I drunk?

  “There, that’ll help,” the nurse said. “The meds will kick in quick. So how did we mess up?”

  “I think…I think you got me confused whiff…whiff her.” I tried to point at Kate but couldn’t even feel my fingers.

  “How so?”

  “There’s a…” Wow, I feel really weird. “There’s a pink band on my arm says ‘pregnant-five weeks.’” Did I just say five wheats? “That band should have been hersh…hersh…Kayshtes…and ish sood have said eight…eight wheats.” I did say wheats! “But isssshh okay. You can dust trow it away sho see no she it. She—it.” Shit!

  I could barely understand myself. The medicine had taken over. But I still heard the last thing the nurse said.

  “It wasn’t a mistake.”

  SIXTY-FOUR – Three Strikes (Hayley)

  ---------- (Thursday. August 11, 2022.) ----------

  Just east of Riverside, California.

  The first arrow missed the C-4 cube by a couple inches. I don’t know if it was nerves or wind, or if I simply wasn’t strong enough to keep the bow still as the swirling water around me pulled at my legs. In any case it was close, but not close enough.

  The second shot missed by a few more inches. Now I was sweating it. That time I was sure it was the wind. I tried to ignore Danny putting his head down, but it conveyed what he was thinking. He was starting to doubt I could do this. Heck, I was starting to doubt I could do this. “Come on, Hayley, you’ve hit harder targets than this before,” I whispered. Maybe not in three shots with lives on the line. My body was aching and the current around my feet was so powerful. Block it out…come on. The wind under the bridge had to be different than the wind around it. This was almost pure luck. No, it’s not. Luck has nothing to do with it. This is pure skill. You’ve got this.

  I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, trying to envision the arrow striking its target. Come on. Come on. One more deep breath and I opened my eyes. I glanced at the arrow as I loaded it into the bow. I was careful to make sure the vanes were perfectly aligned. One more deep breath and I let the third arrow fly. It seemed to travel in slow motion as it twirled toward the target. It looked perfect, and then I felt the wind kick up something fierce—then I heard Danny curse. He felt it too. The wind distinctly pushed the arrow a full foot to the right, almost the exact distance it missed the target by. I know I would have hit the cube indoors with that shot. But I didn’t hit it out here. Three shots. Three misses. So much for all those accuracy awards and records in Minnesota. When it counted, I had failed.

  I sank down into the water with tears in my eyes and glanced over at Danny. He was looking back at me, but he wasn’t angry. He didn’t look upset at all. A little disappointed—maybe—but he actually had a small smile curving the corners of his lips. “I swear that last one was perfect.”

  I sighed. “I know.”

  “If you had one more arrow…”

  “I’d have missed four times.”

  “That’s not what I was—”

  “I know.” I slapped the water. “I’m just disappointed.”

  “This isn’t over.”

  “What are you going to do?” I could see the wheels spinning in his head.

  “There’s another dam-slash-waterfall about five hundred yards downstream. I want you to get on the other side of it, reverse the ghost suit to the all black, and get painted up. Ditch the bow and make sure your Springfield is loaded. When I get to you, we’re going to need to run. If I don’t make it to you in fifteen minutes, you’re going to have to run. There’s a map in your pack. You get your ass to Disneyland, with or wit
hout me. Understood?” He splashed water in my face and shoved my arm. “Hey.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded, a million thoughts racing through my mind. “I understand. But you’d better be there.”

  “I plan to be.”

  “Fifteen minutes?”

  “Not a second more.” He pulled me to him and kissed my forehead. “Now get going.”

  “Danny.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I love you. You know that, right?”

  He nodded. “I do.”

  “All that stuff with Ava—”

  “Water under the bridge.” He smiled. “You were doing what you’re supposed to do.”

  I didn’t know what else to say. I sank completely down into the water. “Fifteen minutes?”

  He nodded. “Not a second more.”

  I pushed away and began floating down the river again. I lost sight of Danny after he climbed over the small dam wall. He was heading back to the bridge.

  I reached the other small waterfall or dam—five hundred yards downstream—about seven minutes later. There was a gap in the middle of it where water was rushing through, but it was also coming around the sides of the debris pile. I slipped over the gap in the middle and quickly inverted the ghost suit from the desert pattern to the all-black. I opened my pack, loaded the Springfield XDM-9 I’d taken from the plane, and applied black hunting paint to my face to match the ghost suit. I had barely snapped the cap shut on the face paint when I heard several quick gunshots and a gigantic explosion.

  I could see smoke billowing in the air and could hear screams, engines, and gunshots galore immediately after the explosion. Danny did it! He blew up the bridge. A five-foot wall of water—caused by the explosion and falling bridge—rushed downstream toward me, and I moved quickly away from the river as it surged over the falls. If Danny had triggered that explosion with those three initial gunshots, he must have been close to the bridge—close to the impact zone. He only had a handgun. How close could you be to such a blast and still survive? I waited frantically for any sign of him, but I saw nothing. Still, a steady stream of gunshots told me someone was shooting at someone. So the soldiers could see someone. But who? Danny? Blake?