Epilogue #2
Sloane slips out from her chair in the last row and brushes past me, saying, “I’m going to check on the food and make sure the reception is all set back at the house.
” She’s a couple of years older than I am, with a striking appearance, thanks to her long dark, wavy hair and light-green eyes.
Sloane joined us about seven weeks ago, after her car hit a patch of ice and skidded off the road two miles down.
She fit in almost immediately, thanks to her willingness to help with anything and everything.
Her military background made her a valuable asset right from the beginning.
She took night shifts, learned how to patrol, went on scavenge runs, and helped to train others on combat and weaponry.
She was lucky to have stumbled upon this place, and we’ve been lucky to have her.
“No, no, sit,” I say, waving a hand and gesturing to her chair. “We’ll worry about that after the ceremony.”
She gives me a strained look. “But shouldn’t the reception be ready for Molly and Greg after the ceremony?”
“Yes, and it will be. Just relax.”
Sloane tightly smiles and retakes her seat, even though I know she doesn’t want to.
She’s a lot like me in that way, unable to sit still, because there’s always something that can be done.
I got that from my dad, and I wonder whether her dad was the same way.
I smile back and thread my arm through Blake’s, ready to walk down the aisle with him.
“Hello, my dear,” he whispers.
“What did you have in mind?” I raise a brow.
“Huh?” His face is confused.
“Sniper tower, cab of the truck, tree house. What would you like me on top of?”
Blake smirks. “Definitely a tower, but not the sniper variety.”
“Tower? Let’s not go overboard.”
“Seems to do the trick for you.” He winks, making me laugh.
My eyes veer back to Tessa and JJ, realizing they’re more than halfway to Greg, so we missed our mark. “Whoops. We’re up,” I say, tugging him forward.
He grins at me and mouths I love you as we walk down the aisle.
I smile back and mouth I love you too, just before we part ways. Blake and Greg hug. Blake gives him an extra pat on the back, then takes his spot on JJ’s other side.
With everyone in place, I nod to Terrance once more. The familiar music begins and everyone instinctively stands, turning toward the end of the aisle.
Molly is as beautiful as any bride I’ve ever seen, apocalypse be damned.
The universe must think so too, given the perfect weather and songbirds singing from nearby trees.
The sun illuminates her from behind, and for a moment all I can see is the dress radiating light, and I can’t help but wonder whether Molly doesn’t have more than just my uncle Jimmy walking her down the aisle.
Greg has tears running down his face, with a smile so wide his lips might burst. Uncle Jimmy steps forward and whispers to Greg. A message only for a father’s and son’s ears. He kisses Molly on the cheek, hands her off to Greg, and takes a seat in the front row.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here on this glorious afternoon to join in marriage . . . ,” Aunt Julie says, sticking to the traditions we all tried to remember, but none of us had ever officiated a wedding before, so she’s winging it.
I look out into the crowd, noting the smiling faces, caught up in the moment, as most wedding attendees are prone to be.
The majority of them haven’t known Greg and Molly for more than a few months, but they’re honored to be a part of their special day anyway.
Because a day like this offers all of us hope that we can love and be loved even in the darkest times.
The world may have ended, but our humanity is endless.
I look to the road beyond the fence, stretching for miles and . . .
What the hell is that? I squint to get a better view.
A semitruck drives down the highway, its white metal siding glinting in the sun as a plume of black smoke bursts from the exhaust pipe. A working vehicle driving on the road has happened a few times, like in Sloane’s case before she crashed, but a semitruck? Never.
I try to get Blake’s attention without ruining the moment, but he’s on the other side of JJ, and he’s just as enthralled with the ceremony as everyone else.
Suddenly, the truck slows. My heart pounds as I watch it, hoping it’s nothing.
But then several men appear on top of the trailer, having climbed up the back of it.
They get in a line, seemingly facing us, pulling items out of backpacks slung over their shoulders One of them drops down on his belly, while another man places something large and black in front of him.
It takes me a moment to realize what it is .
. . but when I do, my eyes go wide. It’s a sniper rifle.
“If anyone has any objections, speak now or forever hold your peace,” Aunt Julie says, scanning the crowd.
It’s quiet for only a split second, until I scream, “Runnnnnn!” just as bullets rip through the air, hitting the ground around us.