Page 105 of The Art of Dying

“He hired someone on the police force to woo your friend Alecia. She came across Mason’s journal detailing his whereabouts and plans. She’s lucky the cop was instructed to use his monumental fuck up to lure Kitsch into the open instead of taking her out.”

“Is she insane? Why did she get involved?”

Grant breathed out a laugh. “Your friend Alecia has a bigger pair of balls than most men I know. She knows you’re alive, by the way. After all this, she’ll be waiting for your call.”

I snapped my open mouth shut. “To scream at me?”

Grant turned to look at me. “She’s just happy you’re still with us, Mack.”

My eyes glossed over, but I wiped them quickly.

“Well…” I blew out a breath. “Wow. Alecia’s been busy.”

“No kidding,” Grant said. “Not bad for a civilian.”

I tucked my hair behind my ear. “Should I get the kids dressed?”

Gina’s eyes did a once over. “Don’t wake them just yet. Have your bug-out bag close and ready, put on dark, warm clothes and your holster, and stay alert and quiet. I’ll put on some coffee. It could be a long night; it could be in the next half hour.”

I looked down at Apollo sitting alert at her feet. “Where’s Apple?

Gina gestured toward the pet bed in a corner of the living room. “I gave her and Emily light sedatives. They’re both going to sleep through whatever happens next. If we evac, I’ll get Apple. Even if we don’t leave at the same time, your only focus is getting the kids to rendezvous one. Understand?”

I nodded and did everything Gina said, checking off each item in my head as it was completed. After pulling back my hair into a tiny low ponytail, I placed the bag next to the center wall and then sat in the recliner.

“Heads up,” Grant said, peering between the blinds. “Car just pulled up to the Landers’ curb, lights off. Idling.”

“Remember the plan,” Gina said, putting her hands on my shoulders. “Get to the warehouse. The code is Emily’s birthday. The fob is in the metal box under the first shelf to the left. In the black duffel bag in the trunk is a burner phone with Tiger’s and John’s numbers already programmed in. I’ve put him on standby for extraction. He’ll meet you at the airport. You’ll also have passports and IDs, credit cards and cash, guns and ammo. Don’t waste time. Warehouse, car, secure the kids in their car seats, drive the car straight to the airport.”

I nodded. “I know, but you’re coming with us, right?”

She stared at me too long before answering. “Just in case. If you’re driving, don’t stop. Not for anything. Any men with Mason are not here to talk to you about our Lord and Savior. What’s the rule?”

“A car is a coffin unless it’s moving.”

She shot me a half smile. “Atta girl.”

I hugged her tight, and she squeezed me back, after a few moments holding me at arm’s length to meet my gaze. “You’ll all be okay. I promise. If we get separated, you’ve prepared. You can do this.”

I nodded quickly.

“Heading behind houses,” Grant whispered.

“Get the kids dressed and ready,” she said.

I rushed to their bedroom, slipping a hoodie sweatshirt over Dylan’s head and then a beanie, sweats over his pajama shorts, pulling on his socks and then his shoes onto his feet. He was still halfway asleep when I began to dress Emily.

“I’m tired, Mom,” he said.

“Whisper. Remember the game we play with Gina? Ghost in the graveyard? We’re going to do something like that.”

He looked around, rubbing his eyes. “But it’s still dark.”

“Early bird gets the worm,” I said, twisting my sleeping daughter’s shoes onto her feet.

The kids’ nightlight went out just as the security system began to beep, signaling the electricity had been cut.

I rushed over to kneel squarely in front of Dylan. “Son?” I sighed. “Remember when that dog attacked Apple?”

---