Page 53 of Good and Gone

She looks at me like I have lost my mind, like it finally feels like we’re in this together. “What?”

“I’m going to teach you how to defend yourself.”

Her eyes widen. “That's not what we agreed on. You said we were going to get back to normal. You said to let them see me doing normal things…things like taking the kids to school, picking up groceries.”

“I know what I said.”

“You said we were going to make them think we are getting on with our lives and then we are going to disappear.”

“Yeah. And that’s what we’re doing.”

She glares at me in disbelief. “Where does survival training fit into any of that?”

“Before we can disappear, we need to know how to survive.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, no.” She gasps. “So—what? You’re going to fight these guys?”

“If I have to.”

“Tyler, are you crazy? Look at you.”

“What about me?”

For a moment, she’s speechless, which is not a common occurrence for my wife. Finally, she sighs, and it’s not exactly what I’d call a welcome sound. “You're wearing khakis and a polo. Normally, I’d say there’s nothing sexier than a clean shaven man. But you look like you’re going to a PTA meeting. You're not exactly wearing battle gear.”

“You should never let your enemy know what you’re planning,” I tell her. “Maybe I’m not going to fight them. Maybe I'm going to kill them.”

“Wait.” She shifts in her seat. “You’re not kidding?”

“I guess we’ll find out.”

"Tyler, I love you. But come on. You're not a killer."

"Maybe not. But I am a damn good shot. And with a little practice, you will be too."

“You said normal,” she scoffs. “This isnotnormal.”

“It’s not normal,” I agree. “But it is necessary.”

37

John Doe

These fucking people. How precious, him bringing Hailey to a shooting range. And by shooting range, I mean a homemade setup at his old man’s house. I watch as he teaches her how to use a gun. As he practices with her in the field. I’m a little annoyed, sure. It's colder outside than it's been. Winter is here. I’ve got better things to do than follow people out to the boonies.

But it just gets better. A man named Tristan arrives not long after they do. The man looks like a model. He's maybe 5'10. He has black hair, a square jaw, and golden eyes. He looks like he should be on the cover of magazines, not out hitting targets. He wears a leather jacket and a Colt .45 on his hip.

If he’s supposed to be some sort of hired protection, andthat’sthe best they could do, this situation is worse than I thought. What a joke.

Hailey flicks off the safety and aims the gun. Her husband stands over her shoulder. He's shouting on account of the ear protection, which works perfectly for me, considering they're all armed and now is not the time to get too close. “You're going to want to press your right thumb here and wrap your finger around the trigger.”

She fires. The bullet flies straight through the five-pointed-star target. Tyler takes the weapon.

The man in the leather jacket offers her his gun. She looks at it, then at her husband. “It's okay,” he says. “Just get a feel for it.”

---