My heart starts pounding.
Oh god.
What have I done?
MAXIE
When Brendan sticks
his gun
up through the moonroof
and deliberately lets off
two shots,
my whole body goes
numb.
The shots are loud,
painfully
deafeningly
loud.
I can see Felix’s lips move,
but can barely hear
the words.
He reaches over
and takes hold of my
ice-cold hand.
Put the gun away, Brendan, I hear Anil say through the buzzing in my ears.
His voice is strong,
level.
Brendan swivels his head around
to look back
at Anil.
What’s wrong, Paki? Did I scare you? he asks, voice mocking.
Suddenly the door next to Felix
opens
and Chloe’s there.
Her face is crumpled,
wet with
tears.
I cut my foot, she says.
I look down
and see
blood
pooling up between
her toes,
covering the straps of
her silvery sandals.
Then comes
the scream,
and we all
freeze.
What the . . . Brendan breathes, clutching his gun tighter.
Jesus, Felix says, dropping my hand. Emma . . .
Felix is out the door,
so fast
it’s like he
disappeared.
Then Emma
is running
toward us.
She is pointing Felix
back toward
the car.
We need to get out of here, she says. Now.
Chloe tumbles past me
to the backseat,
next to Anil.
Felix slams his door shut,
sliding into the seat next to me.
His eyes are fixed on
Emma.
Go, Brendan, Emma says, voice urgent.
Then she spots the
gun
in his hand.
What the hell? she says, eyes wide.
But Brendan doesn’t let go of
the gun.
He turns on the engine,
puts the car into drive,
and
accelerates.
Then he deliberately
sticks his hand
up through the open moonroof—
a parting shot.
So loud my hearing goes
dim again.
Emma, her face livid with rage,
knocks
the gun
out of his hand.
It clatters to the floor,
at my feet.
Without even thinking
I kick it under my seat.
A few seconds later,
a horrible,
terrifying,
catastrophic
answer:
loud popping noises
coming from the house.
Then more.
Louder!
Like the sound of
fireworks.
Behind me,
or beside Felix,
it’s hard to tell,
comes the sound of
glass
shattering.
And, right after that,
in front of me,
the windshield suddenly is
blurred, cracked.
Felix lets out
a soft grunt,
almost like
a sigh.
Brendan is weaving,
swearing.
Then Emma screams.
Stop the car! It’s Faith.
Faith?
How could Faith be
here??
FAITH
I smell:
new mown grass
the sweet perfume of flowers,
roses, I think.
I see:
cemetery gates
and down the block
Brendan’s SUV,
idling.
I hear:
the steady drone of cicadas
then a few muffled popping noises
something breaking
a car door slamming
a scream
more popping, louder and closer,
much closer.
I feel:
the handlebars of my bike tilt
the sidewalk rushing up at me
pain, unexpected
overwhelming
I taste:
blood in my mouth
MAXIE
Emma yells again at Brendan.
STOP THE CAR!
But it’s like he
hasn’t heard.
Emma opens her door
anyway,
jumps out,
while it’s still
moving,
fast!
I watch her fall,
hard,
onto the sidewalk.
Then she’s up,
tries to stand,
but her right leg
collapses
beneath her,
and she is on the ground.
Once again
she rises,
teetering on her left leg,
hopping back toward
the ghost house.
Brendan, stop! I shout.
He jams on the brake.
Tires squeal
and we’re all jerked
forward.
I look back.
Emma has stopped
and is leaning over
something lying
on the ground.
Brendan wrenches open his car door
and stumbles out into
the street.
Felix, I start, turning toward him.
But Felix is slumped forward,
the seat belt the only thing
holding him up.
With an icy jolt of horror
I see
blood
dripping
into
his lap.
ANIL
1. Chloe, beside me,
crying.
Wiping the blood
from her foot with Kleenex.
A lot of blood
so I’m thinking it
must be a bad cut,
maybe needs stitches,
and I lean toward her
to see if I can help.
2. Then the window beside Felix
splinters,
and the front windshield
is suddenly a spiderweb of cracks.
I look at Maxie, her face in profile,
and it is dead white,
her eyes wide with shock.
Felix, she whispers, reaching toward him.
I see the blood then
on Felix’s headrest,
and, without thinking,
I’m beside him.
3. Gaping wound,
on the side of his head,
where his right eye
was.
Feel for a pulse.
It’s there.
Thin and thready,
but there.
Call 911, I say to Maxie. Now.
I tear off my shirt.
Wad it up. Gently press it
against the wound.
Felix groans.
Looking into his other eye,
I see immense pain.
Sorry, Felix. Hang in there, I say, trying to keep my voice calm, reassuring.
4. Maxie’s hands are shaking,
but she’s got 911 on the line.
Someone’s hurt. Shot, I think, she says, her voice surprisingly steady.
/> Can hear the crackle
of an answering voice.
Near Walnut Creek Cemetery, Maxie says.
McKinley Road . . . In the head . . . Might be more than one person . . .
She’s looking out the window
at Emma, who is crouched
beside a still figure
sprawled on the sidewalk.
Hurry please, Maxie says.
Chloe hovers beside me.
Can I help?
Hold this, I say.
And without hesitating,
Chloe puts her hand where I guide it,
to the wadded-up shirt
quickly filling up
with blood.
5. Gently I begin lowering the back
of Felix’s seat.
I’ve got to go to Emma, Maxie says. They want to know . . .
No, Maxie, I say, urgent, a shooter’s out there.
I know, she says. But it’s Faith.
She squeezes by, out of the car,
and disappears.
MAXIE
I spot the bike first,
the front tire
blown out,
spokes bent
and twisted.
Faith is lying half under it,
Emma bent
over her.
Faith! Faith, can you hear me? Emma is saying.
Faith’s eyes are closed.
There’s
blood
on her face,
and more,
a lot more,
on the leg that’s pinned
at an awkward angle,
under the bike.
Brendan is beside Emma,
his body taut,
alert.
She was awake, talking to me, Emma is saying to Brendan, and then she just sort of stopped, and her eyes closed . . .
We need to get the bike off her, Brendan says.
There is no trace of
slurring
in his words.
And in one easy movement
he lifts the bicycle off
Faith,
as if it’s no heavier than
a feather.
Then he turns back to
Emma.
Emma, he says, get back to the car. You, too, he adds, looking in my direction.
The drunken, slack-mouthed
evil Brendan
is gone.
In a matter of moments,
he has changed into
the lacrosse team captain.
Strong.
In charge.
I turn to go back to the SUV.
But Emma isn’t moving,
focused only on
her sister.
I think I feel a pulse, she says. But there’s so much blood . . .
I’ll stay with her. Go back to the car, Brendan repeats.
Emma shakes her head,
refusing to leave.
I notice she is holding something
tightly in her hand.
Something dark,
covered with
blood.
It looks like
a toy.
Brendan crouches down,
beside Emma,
looking her straight in the eye.
Despite the faint ringing
still in my ears,
I can hear
every word.
There’s someone with a gun, at the ghost house, he says deliberately. You and Maxie need to get back to the car.
No, is all Emma says.
An ambulance is on the way, Brendan says.
And it’s then that I notice
the sound of
sirens
in the distance.
Emma stays where she is.
Faith, you’re gonna be all right. I’m here, she says.
Brendan looks at me,
his face
dead serious,
and makes a gesture
with his hand
toward the SUV.
I go,
but looking behind me,
I see Brendan,
with that same easy strength
lifting Emma
into his arms.
She flails against him,
though it’s clear that her own
right leg is
badly hurt.
Suddenly she jerks so hard
he can’t hold her,
and she’s
on the ground,
then up again,
hopping on her good leg
back to Faith.
EMMA
I am squeezing the rubber crow,
Polly’s favorite chew toy,
tight in my hand.
It’s smeared with blood, Faith’s blood.
Oh please God,
let Faith be okay.
BRENDAN
I start to follow Emma,
then hear Anil calling out to me.
Brendan, watch out, is what I hear.
I spin toward the ghost house and see
the figure of a man moving toward us.
Or maybe it’s a boy.
With a rifle in his hands.
Emma, I call instinctively, to warn her.
She turns, then freezes,
staring at the figure holding the rifle.
She raises her hand,
the one holding the bloody crow,
As if to fend off
what’s about to happen.
I see the rifle go up,
pointing straight at Emma.
And I move.
MAXIE
I watch as
Brendan collides with Emma,
knocking her off her feet.
And at the very same second
that their bodies meet,
one last shot rings out,
splitting the night
wide open.
AFTER
Sunday, August 29, 1:05 a.m.
POLICE CHIEF AUBREY DELAFIELD
Even before I answer
the phone, I know.
I don’t know how I know,
but I do.
Something has happened,
something big, something life-changing.