Chapter 14 #2
Mackenzie’s throat clogged. And Aaron was hers. Only she hadn’t saved him. There were so many ways she should have tried to pry into his secret life.
Too late.
“I didn’t know you signed up to help teach me how to drive.”
“Yeah, not altruistic, I’m afraid. I wanted to show off mostly. I had that sweet ride. Figured it would impress you.”
“It did.” A sleek sky-blue Mustang and a honey-eyed boy who fussed over every inch of it.
He was gangly, with the lean physique that would later bulk out with muscle.
Maybe if she hadn’t been Aaron’s little sister, two years younger, Gideon would have taken her for a ride in that gorgeous car, and . . .
The painful what-ifs struck at her heart. It all seemed so terribly long ago, an innocent era when she’d known who she was, or thought she did. Now everything was surreal, confusing, and it left her numb inside. “I thought you were indifferent. Why did you want to impress me?”
He shrugged. “Teenage boy? Best friend’s hot sister? What’s not to understand?”
Her cheeks warmed. Hot sister? She’d never thought he’d seen her that way. “I wanted to impress you too, I guess,” she admitted. “But I never quite knew how.”
He steadied the palm tree deodorizer hanging from the rearview. “Just being yourself was enough.”
Being herself? The stubborn, hyperactive know-it-all? She couldn’t look at him so she focused on the route ahead. The graveled section ended at a larger paved two-lane road. Decision time. She braked while Gideon consulted his compass.
“Left will loop us closer to the highway.”
“So right would be the more direct route to the airstrip,” she said.
“That’s correct.” His tone was carefully neutral.
And there it was, the choice that could not be ignored or put off any longer. Up until Gideon plucked her out of the prison van, it had been Mackenzie versus Bullseye, black and white, right versus wrong. Not anymore.
There was another person in the passenger seat now, a man whom she suddenly realized she hadn’t really known properly at all. Someone whose future was riding on her choices.
A man she cared for very much.
She let out a breath, pressed the gas, and eased the vehicle into a wide left turn. She could feel his shocked reaction as he stared at her.
“Left?”
She nodded.
“Why?”
“Because,” she said slowly. How could she express all that was going on in her spirit? Her heart? “I’ve changed my mind.”
****
Gideon thought the sheer overwhelming bliss of a functioning heater and the blood loss from the scrape across his side had messed with his mental acuity. “We’re not going to the airstrip anymore?”
She didn’t look at him, just kept the camper creeping forward. “You heard me.”
“Yes, I did. But why, Zee?”
“I’m not totally sure.”
He took in her wet hair, the small hands clutching the wheel, the pain in the line of her jaw, and the crimp of her mouth. The choice had cost her. In letting go, she’d also given something up. “How about you tell me what you can?”
She was quiet for a full minute as they rolled along. “I . . . When you collapsed back by the cabin after you’d been shot, I thought you were dying.”
He opened his mouth to make a joke but closed it again. Listen, his soul whispered.
A few more seconds ticked by. “I showed up before they’d moved Aaron from the shooting scene. Did you know that?”
His mouth went dry. “No, I didn’t.”
“Since I was in the academy, I knew all the on-duty cops. They called me immediately once they ID’d him. I got to the gas station when the medics were still working on him, but I knew it was too late.” Her voice broke, and he put a hand on her knee. She didn’t acknowledge his touch.
“I’m sorry. So sorry you had to go through that.”
She blinked. “As they took him away, I thought of a million things I should have done differently. If I’d texted him, if I’d snooped through his room, if I’d pressured you harder to talk to him.”
A lump formed in his throat. He hadn’t known. He should’ve.
“I questioned my own actions, wondering if I’d been thinking about myself instead of Aaron. You know what happened after that?”
“No.”
“I lost the ability to feel anything. Almost literally. Like, I didn’t know what season it was, if it was cold or hot, or if I felt hunger or fatigue.
It was as if something inside blinked off, like a flipped switch.
I stopped talking to any of my friends and really even my parents.
We still spoke about superficial things, but nothing of substance.
I wanted to, and they probably needed me to help them process Aaron’s murder, but I couldn’t deal with anything because I was numb. ”
“I can understand that.”
The RV rolled on through the darkening woods. “The only emotion I was able to regain was anger, at Bullseye.” She paused. “And at you.”
“So what’s changed now?”
“I can feel again.” She shrugged. “Maybe all this near-death experience stuff did it. Or . . .” She glanced at him, then quickly looked away. “Doesn’t matter, but I can feel again.” Her brows knitted. “And let me tell you, most of the feelings are garbage, and I liked it better numb.”
He smiled. “I hear you.”
“But anyway . . .” She cleared her throat. “It’s made me think maybe there are other things to consider.”
“Looking at all the factors. That’s wise.” He was trying not to let his voice echo the cautious cheering in his heart. If she could let go of the vendetta, if she would choose to live, it would make all the agony they’d experienced worth it, every last bit.
“I’m not giving up, though, if that’s what you think. I’m going to get Bullseye, but this isn’t the way.” She swallowed. “Not if you get hurt in the process.”
A sense of wonder engulfed him. “You’re changing plans, for now, because of me?”
She flipped the hair from her eyes and waved off the question, but he saw her lips tremble.
The space between them was charged with the unspoken. He couldn’t think of how to respond.
“Don’t get a big head about it.” She adjusted the seat belt and disengaged from his touch. “But . . . you said you didn’t recognize me.”
He grimaced. “I spoke without thinking. Personality trait that definitely needs work. My brothers will tell you I have no filter.”
“You don’t, but you were right. And I don’t recognize me either. I don’t know who I am anymore or what I’m supposed to be doing outside of punishing Bullseye, but I know you’re not meant to die while I figure it out.”
Each word scrolled through his head in slow motion.
She’d lost herself, and it grieved him. But maybe, somehow, his being with her and all that they’d endured would help her remember who God had made her to be, regardless of what had happened with Aaron.
Mercurial, passionate, loyal, amazing Mackenzie Bardine.
She heaved out a breath. “Looks like we risk the highway then. Maybe we’ll be able to join in a caravan of late evacuees. Safety in numbers, right?”
Back to business. He wasn’t sure Bullseye’s guys wouldn’t take a shot regardless of witnesses, but he didn’t say so. He was still marveling at their unexpected change of plans.
When she let out an enormous sigh, he noticed her pallor, the exhaustion tugging her mouth. He touched her hand in a silent question, his nerve endings still dulled.
She surprised him by stopping, leaning her forehead against the steering wheel. “I’m so tired, Gideon.”
It was an admission, wrapped in a plea. God, renew her spirit, he prayed, holding on for a moment longer. “I’ll drive for a while.”
When she turned to him, her eyes were dull. “You can’t. You’re hurt.”
“Nicked, but fit for duty, and I’m an extremely fast healer.” He touched her mud-covered sleeve, slid his hand down until he found her wrist, barely able to feel the strong pulse that beat there. “Let me take over for a while, Zee.”
Without a word she shifted to park while they switched. His side throbbed as he climbed into the driver’s seat, but he was careful not to wince or groan. It was a pain he would gladly bear if it meant she could rest. She closed her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Gid,” she whispered. “For everything.”
“I’m sorry too.” And I’ll see you home. “Get some rest.”
The road was clear for the most part, except for the few occasions he had to navigate around piled mud and fallen tree trunks.
It was harder than it should have been since he still felt clumsy and slow.
He turned the radio on to a low murmur. Mackenzie had curled up sideways into a ball, perched against the door.
The weather report was bleak, but the dam news was worse.
Newly appeared cracks had caused expanded evacuation mandates.
The intent behind the precise language was clear.
Those who chose to stay were making a dangerous choice.
No amount of help would be enough if the dam failed.
There would be no hope of survival. At least he could hang on to the fact that they were now attempting to depart the danger zone—if they could avoid Bulleye’s guys long enough.
Could be Bullseye and his team had enough good sense to leave off their kill mission and get out before the dam broke.
After fifteen minutes of driving, he almost missed the last turn that promised to take them to the highway. A half-dozen birds shot across the road. Startled. By what?
He stopped, peering into the gloom.
The source of their alarm whirled into view a moment after, circling in a methodical way.
A helicopter.
He hit the gas.
Mackenzie jerked to attention. “What?”
He pointed.
She gasped. “Oh no.”
Their only chance was to make it to the section of road where the woods hemmed in from both sides, which would obstruct the aircraft’s view. But they had to get there before the helicopter fixed on their location.
He pushed faster, praying they wouldn’t encounter another sinkhole.
The helicopter hovered over a hilly glade in the distance for a few moments as Gideon neared the forest. The camper rattled and shook. A few more seconds . . .
As if in slow motion the helicopter turned and glided closer, red lights blinking in the gloom, zeroing in on their location.
“Did they . . .”
He cut her off. “They’ve already seen us, Zee.”
“Can we outrun them?”
They couldn’t, but he knew they’d both try in vain rather than surrender. “If we make it to the woods up ahead, we could ditch the camper. Slim chance we could outrun them on foot.”
Her eyes were hard, expression grim but determined.
She reached out, took his hand, and squeezed. “Let’s go for it, Gideon. There’s nothing else we can do.”
“Okay,” he said. “Ready?”
She nodded and braced her boots against the floorboard.
He punched the gas.