Page 106 of The Art of Dying

He nodded.

“You said you wanted to protect me like Daddy. Daddy is a Marine, right? So, when he goes to work, bad guys are all around him. But Marines stay calm and keep their ears and eyes open. If we see any bad guys tonight, I need you to be like Daddy, okay? Stay calm, listen to me, protect your sister. Do you understand?”

He stared at me with a blank face. “The bad guys we’ve been hiding from found us, didn’t they.”

I pressed my lips together in a hard line. “I think so. Gina and Grant are here. Your number one job is to never leave your sister’s side. No matter what.”

He nodded, determined and absent of fear, looking more like his father than he ever had.

After a loud boom, I heard grunts and scuffling. Gina yelled a command at Apollo, and in the next second, he made noises I’d never heard before, sounding more like a vicious wild animal than the dog I knew. One of the men cried out in pain. I stood next to the door seeing three men, two of them attacking Grant and Gina, the other on the ground struggling with Apollo.

I tossed the bag over my shoulder and lifted Emily from the bed, gesturing for Dylan to follow. “Eyes on the floor unless I say.”

We walked into the hall, waiting for an opportunity to flee. Grant’s assailant pulled his arm and turned, snapping a bone. The loud crack was followed by Grant crying out and stumbling backward, his arm hanging at a strange angle. The attacker didn’t hesitate, aiming his weapon and pulling the trigger, the bullet passing straight through the center of Grant’s head.

I screamed, but only in my head.

Gina reared back and kicked the man she’d been fighting in the side of the knee. The second he fell, she spun and put the toe of her boot into his face. Blood sprayed in every direction and then she shot twice in a row, killing her attacker and the man who’d just killed her husband—in the exact spot he’d shot Grant.

Gina scrambled over to check Grant, speaking to him too quietly for me to hear. Just as she stood and turned to give me an order, a loud pop filled the room. Gina jerked once, looking down at her stomach. The bullet wound was less than an inch below her vest, and blood immediately streamed down her leg and onto the floor, pooling around her boot.

I looked toward the back door, where the man who’d been fighting Apollo earlier was lying. He dropped the gun, his head fell back and to the side, his lifeless eyes staring into oblivion, his blood still pumping from the gaping wound in his neck, slowing with the final beats of his heart.

Shocked, Gina stumbled back, hit the wall, and slid down, sitting a few feet from her husband.

“Gina?” I said, my voice breaking.

Apollo was whining and licking her face.

I took a step toward her, but she held up her hand. “It’s time for you to go. Apollo,” she said, with as much authority as she could muster, “take over.”

Apollo hesitated only for a moment, trotting over to me and sitting at my feet.

Sweaty, pale, and exhausted, Gina reached for Grant’s hand, touching her bloody fingertips to his. She glanced at him and then back to me, offering a tired smile. “Eyes up, Mack. You still have one left. You can do this,” she nodded, her eyes glossing over. “You can do this.”

My face crumbled, and I could feel my bottom lip quiver as I pulled Dylan behind me to the garage. Apollo followed us, waiting as I secured the kids into their seats before jumping in and hopping to the back before I slid behind the wheel.

Just as I pressed the ignition, Apollo growled at the doorway leading into the house. Gunshots cracked, lighting the darkness for just seconds at a time, and in what felt like slow motion, Mason appeared, removing his black knit mask as he stepped down into the garage, wearing the same black clothes and tactical gear as the others.

I looked up at him from behind my window, watching him tap on the glass. “Honey, I’m home.”

I slammed the gear shift into reverse and blew backward through the garage door, screeching on the brakes in the road and then tearing down the street. In the rearview mirror, Dylan was hanging on to his five-point harness with one hand, his other on his sister, and Apollo was still barking at the house.

I wanted to scream, to back up and run Mason over and watch as he rolled lifelessly over my SUV, but Gina’s words played on repeat in my head.

Don’t waste time. Warehouse, car, secure the kids in their car seats, drive the car straight to the airport.

“Mom? We left Apple,” Dylan said. He tried to keep his voice calm, but his bottom lip quivered.

“We’ll go back for Apple when it’s safe, baby.”

He looked out the window and quickly wiped a tear from his cheek, trying hard to keep a brave face. “We can’t go back.”

The warehouse was just a ten-minute drive. It was another ten to the small airport in Jenks. The gate whined and moved too slowly as I waited for it to open. Emily was still asleep; Dylan was still staring out the window. Apollo was still panting as if he’d run a mile. He wasn’t hot, he was still amped up from the firefight at the house, and he was anxious without Gina. I didn’t know she’d trained him to go with me for protection without her, but I was glad he was there. He licked his bloodied chops and then stood, watching out the window for anything that moved.

Headlights off, I pressed the gas pedal and the SUV slowly crept forward, the gate closing behind us. I parked in front of the oversized door, looking around before leaving the car, and again while I let Apollo out of the back. He was still on alert, sniffing the air before lowering his head, his bloody, matted fur moving with each motion. I typed in Emily’s birthday again and returned to the driver’s seat, pulling into the vast building slowly, noting that Apollo was following us and out of the way.

The Cadillac sedan was exactly where Gina always said it would be, parked in the center of the warehouse. I opened the door and popped the trunk while I checked under the dome light that the duffle inside was still packed with the items Gina had listed earlier. I grabbed a hunting knife, a flashlight, and the phone, turning it on before shoving it into my back pocket and closing the trunk. A brand-new pair of car seats were already fastened into the back seat. I was relieved. Moving Emily and then the car seat would’ve taken more energy than I had. Between the adrenaline soaking back into my system and working off only a few hours of sleep, I could barely move.

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