THE FLAMES OF MY HATRED RAGED INSIDE OF ME, CHARRING my soul beyond repair. No one could save him from me…The only thing standing between me and the end of his life was the gun that he pressed against her temple. He was going to die, of that much I was certain. The only thing I was uncertain of was if I had what it took to save her.
We were all surrounded by darkness and standing inside of an unfamiliar room. I glared into the blackened eyes of the frowning tragedy mask worn by my adversary. He was known to the world as The Suspect, but I only knew him as the man responsible for the death of my brother.
The terror in Monica’s eyes as he pressed the .50 caliber pistol against her temple paralyzed me. He had taken away my brother and now he was a trigger squeeze away from taking the single most important thing in my life.
“You can’t save her,” a familiar voice muttered from behind me. The voice was weak and barely audible, but I knew who it was. My knees trembled and threatened to buckle as I turned to face my dead brother.
PJ stood before me, still bleeding from the countless mortal wounds inflicted upon him at the time of his death. It was at that point that I realized that my nightmare had returned.
“You couldn’t save me. What makes you think you can save her?” he demanded.
“Brother, I’m sorry! I-I wasn’t there for you! I should’ve-”
“You were never there for me! Never! This is all your fault, Adam!” PJ bellowed. “It’s because of you that I am dead!”
The room suddenly erupted into fire with PJ’s last words. As the deadly blaze swelled and threatened to consume us all, I turned and zoomed towards Monica faster than I had ever run before.
Before long, we were once again soaring through the frozen sky without words. She didn’t need words. Her eyes said enough. I could tell by her glare that she still hated me. I only hoped that whatever I had done to deserve such hate could be reversed.
52. INTERVENTION