“
If we can stay together and get out of this city, yes.
”
“
How do you know?
”
He turns, trying to pull the answers from Isabel
’
s deep brown eyes.
“
What if we
’
re all just mice in some bloody maze waiting for our traps to catch up?
”
Her gaze drifts distantly to the window.
“
Faith,
”
she finally whispers. The darkness almost snatches the word from her lips.
“
That
’
s in short supply today, love,
”
Devin mutters. He motions toward the black beyond the glass and the orange still shimmering from its shadows.
“
You try holding onto your faith out there.
”
He picks up one of the pistols and holds the grip out to her.
“
I
’
d rather be holding one of these. You comfortable with a weapon?
”
“
More comfortable than being without one,
”
she shrugs.
Devin double-checks the clip and readies it before passing the flight attendant a Glock.
“
Same deal,
”
he says, pointing to the lever alongside the dark body.
“
Safety
’
s there. Keep it on unless you plan on hurting someone.
”
“
Only if they deserve it,
”
the flight attendant glares. Her eyebrow shoots up to underline the point.
“
You sure that jives with your faith, love?
”
Devin asks. His eyes narrow on the pregnant, gun-toting Latina.
“
I
’
m Catholic, Devin, not stupid,
”
she chides. Isabel holds the weapon up, a mischievous smile spreading.
“
Besides, armed faith is the best kind.
”
A sudden grin disappears just as quickly from Devin
’
s face.
“
Stop it,
”
Isabel says, watching the usual spark drain from the fireman
’
s emerald eyes. Even though her fiery nature wants nothing more than to let the man who abandoned them suffer in his own darkness, Isabel
’
s hand drifts instead to the crucifix around her neck. She
’
s rubbed it out of habit as long as she can even remember. The metal at the bottom of the cross has now become much smoother and shinier than the rest. Somehow, it always helps clear her mind.
She puts her hand reassuringly on his shoulder.
“
There
’
s been enough tragedy today. We don
’
t need to bottle more up just to carry with us.
”
“
I just
…
”
Devin starts.
“
They
’
re gone,
”
she says sternly.
“
All of them. More lives than we
’
ll ever know. You can
’
t change that, Devin. You can either dwell on it and turn yourself into a miserable British prick, or you can try to suck it up and get us through all this. Your choice.
”
“
You alright, Izz?
”
Chris asks from behind them. There
’
s a defensive edge to his voice. The lumbering giant towers over the teenager at his side. His arm rests protectively around her slender frame.
“
Just getting some weapon tips and religious advice from our fearless leader here,
”
Isabel says. Her eyes stay trained on Devin
’
s.
“
One-stop shopping.
”
“
Ouch,
”
the fireman winces.
“
You are fierce, woman.
”
“
You don
’
t know the half of it,
”
Chris mutters. His deep voice almost sounds timid around his former babysitter.
“
Alright then,
”
Devin says, business returning to his tone.
“
We best pack a little heavier while we can. Were there more bags back here?
”
He eyes the door again before walking into the shadows at the rear of the store.
“
Aisle five,
”
Isabel yells.
The fireman returns with a long, black canvas equipment bag. He grabs handfuls of shell boxes and more weapons, stuffing them on top of the chips and water already inside. He holds out the small carry-on he borrowed from Isabel back at the grocery store.
“
Told you I
’
d give it back, love,
”
Devin winks.
“
Look inside.
”
She unzips it, an amazed smile spreading across her face.
“
How did you
…
?
”
“
I have two of my own,
”
Devin says,
“
so I know how important those first memories are. I picked it up just before we left that store lot.
”
“
Thank you,
”
she whispers, looking down at her wrinkled ultrasound photo. Tears begin to fall from her eyes.
“
You are most welcome,
”
Devin smiles.
The bell on the front door suddenly begins to jingle. Deep, maniacal laughter rushes through the shattered entryway.
Devin
’
s eyes go wide.
A cluster of orange jumpsuits surround the broken glass.
The fireman hurtles toward the door, aiming his shotgun
as
h
e
screams.
“
I said bugger off
…
”
The figures duck away just as a flaming cocktail explodes into the door. Huge tongues of fire shoot into Devin
’
s body. The fireman instantly drops, rolling to put out the burning liquid on his arms and chest.
Chris pulls him back right as another firebomb crashes into the floor. It blooms across the bubbling linoleum in front of them.
Terra
’
s voice shrieks out. The fire quickly spreads across the front of the store, only feet from the gun counter. Chris
’
s head whips toward the sound, his stomach twisting.
“
Over here!
”
Isabel shouts. Flames writhe and grow all around them. She grabs Terra
’
s hands and pulls the teen to her feet.
Heat surges against their skin. They run, legs driving down the tile floors. Terra
’
s hand suddenly slips out of Isabel
’
s. Ammunition sparks and bursts from behind them, fragments ricocheting and exploding through the air. The burnt stench of used gun powder fills the black swirling around them.
“
Come on!
”
Chris barks. The basketball star pulls Devin up and both men scramble back into the jumbled maze of aisles.
Terra stops, dread freezing her footsteps. Monstrous voices shout at her through the flames. Sinewy legs kick through the windows, their orange tentacles twisting and moving like the fire itself. Dozens of evil faces flash in the red light. The savageness of their smiles devours all shadow, slicing like white daggers through both innocence and faith. Her body shakes. Her knees buckle.
Devin
’
s shotgun thunders through the glass at the bodies starting to climb through. It rips into vicious souls too consumed by their own violence to even feel the flames.
Chris slides to a stop like in one of his basketball line drills.
Something
’
s wrong,
his gut screams. He touches his hand to the floor for balance and pivots, his eyes darting around.
“
Terra!
”
he yells.
The basketball star leaps out of the starting gate. He lunges over the debris-covered floor, pushing through the low metal shelving around him. Fire is everywhere. He tips down a display full of sunglasses, fighting toward the other side of the store. His heart catches.
The beautiful woman is kneeling just in front of him, bathed in a circle of orange. Softly, Chris takes her shoulders. His eyes lock onto hers. Flames flicker behind her pale face.
Evil approaches with them. The red and orange shapes of predators are so close they
’
re reflected in Chris
’
s dark eyes.
“
I won
’
t let them hurt you, Terra. Not again,
”
he says. His jaw tightens.
“
I promise you that.
”
She looks up at him, her haunted eyes desperately longing for protection. Strength.
“
We have to go now,
”
he says. Orange jumpsuits are just feet away now. Their hands claw out even as the store crumbles down upon them.
“
Come on!
”
Chris takes her hand and turns to lead
Terra
into the fiery chaos. Flames leap and pulse at them. Chris
’
s chest burns. The growing heat sucks the very air from their lungs. He drags her forward, gasping
,
forcing
them both to keep moving.
“
Almost there!
”
The voices fade. Still, Chris
’
s long legs drive on, slashing and kicking a pathway toward the back of the building.
Hand in hand, Chris and Terra emerge from the flames. They leap past the storage room and out into the stormy night. Swirling wind whips at them, slamming the thick raindrops down.
“
Ever fired a gun?
”
Devin asks. His eyes are locked on the violence standing only feet away. Shadows around the downtown sporting goods store swell with brief shimmers of
orange
.
“
Sorry,
”
Chris says, his voice hardening.
“
Not every black man knows how to use a piece.
”
The 17-year-old snatches a lantern off a nearby shelf and slams it onto the gun counter. Its soft,
yellow
glow illuminates the girl sitting silently on the floor next to him.
Terra
’
s thin arms are wrapped tightly around her knees. Her eyes are lost under strands of darkness. The beautiful teenager looks tiny and frail behind the glass cage, as if her entire body could be swallowed up at any moment by the horrors that stalk them.
“
Jesus, mate! Is everything a bloody argument with you?
”
“
Only in certain company.
”
Chris
’
s eyes flash dangerously.
“
You and me are gonna chat about that later.
”
“
Looking forward to it, love,
”
Devin smiles. He points at the front windows.
“
Until then, I need you to put your little testament to manhood away and focus on what
’
s happening outside that glass.
”
Devin picks up one of the pistols on the counter and pops in a clip.
“
I presume I can trust you with this?
”
Chris clenches his jaw, wanting to tell the man just where he can stick that weapon. He forces a nod instead.
The fireman quickly cocks it, holding the weapon grip out.
“
Right, then. Guns are pretty simple. This is a Beretta, one of the first guns my father ever let me shoot. Safety
’
s on the side. Just flip it up, aim, and fire at what you want to bring down.
”
Chris takes the gun slowly. His eyes trace down the slick metal barrel and over the handle
’
s grain. The lantern
’
s dim light sparkles along its edges. Just holding the weapon is comforting somehow. His eyes narrow. Their deep brown flickers with a violent sense of empowerment. The feeling is strange. Invigorating. On the basketball court, he
’
s always been confident. But this is something else
—
i
nvincible almost. Chris smiles.