Page 104 of Dissent

“If you fucking hurt her—”

“I saiddon’tmove!” Jacob yelled back as he kept his gun firmly aimed at me. He took measured steps to the side as more REG soldiers flooded onto the roof. His aim never wavered. Jacob glanced at his reinforcements. “Apprehend him.”

“No!” I put my hands out toward Jacob.

I looked back at Wes as three members of the REG seized him, pulling his arms behind his back, causing Wes to grimace again in pain. I noticed that there appeared to be more blood on his clothing than before. While two soldiers kept a hold of him, the other patted him down, relieving him of any weapons he still carried.

“Please, Jacob,” I turned back to face my brother. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”

I could see his eyes glistening now. “Hell, Mara, why did you have to make this hard? I told you! I told you I wouldn’t be able to help you again. What the hell am I supposed to do?”

“You don’t have to do this. You know that.” My brain was searching for a solution, anything! I felt the desperation clawing within me, but I was out of ideas. “Please…I’ll do anything, just don’t harm them.”

Jacob grimaced, and then he looked around, seeing all his men—about ten of them—watching everything. And I knew exactly what he was thinking. He couldn’t just let me go, not with them watching. And even if he agreed to help me, there was no way we could take them out.

We would all die anyway.

His gaze traveled back to me. “Mara, I can’t. We can’t fight this.”

I scrambled, looking around desperately. But I came up short. Where was that freaking helicopter? “Jacob,” I dared to take a step toward him, but he stiffened, cocking back the hammer of the gun. I froze.

I watched as a tear rolled down his cheek. “I love you, Mara. You’re my baby sister. I’ll always love you.”

My own eyes became blurry, but I blinked, trying to clear my vision. I sniffed. “I know. I love you too.”

We held each other’s gaze, telling each other everything we wanted to say and couldn’t. And then, then the corners of his lips tipped upwards, gracing me with that charming smile I knew so well. It was then that I knew. I knew Jacob loved me more than his duty to Telvia. And he would protect me, like he always had, until his last breath.

“This won’t be easy,” he said.

I returned his smile, letting him know I knew exactly what he was trying to tell me. That the bullet in his gun wasn’t meant for me. That, what he was about to do next, was going to be hard, because it was going to be three against ten.

With a soft chuckle, I said, “I didn’t think it would be.” His smile grew then, reaching his eyes. I nodded, letting him know I was ready.

But we never got the chance.

“Mara, get out of the way!”

The voice came from the right side of me. I whipped my head around to see the source, catching sight of Matias pointing a handgun straight at Jacob. “Move!”

It took me one second to process what was happening, but it cost me dearly. Matias pulled the trigger on his gun, and then everything moved in slow motion.

I didn’t hesitate.

“Nooo!” The words cascaded off my lips as I threw myself in the way of the speeding projectile. For the third time that night, time stood still.

I was frozen, sensing pressure digging deep into my belly, my hands instantly cradling my stomach. I looked down at them, pulling them back to see them bathed in crimson. I tried to breathe, but the tightness in my stomach was too much. I returned my gaze to my brother and watched as his eyes widened—a look of horror creeping across his face. And then he was running forward.

I inhaled deeply, but I was falling backward, the sky filling my vision once again. I heard my name called, but I didn’t know who was calling it. And before anyone could reach me, I felt my eyelids grow heavy as darkness circled my vision, and I disappeared into the black. And this time, when I closed my eyes into unconsciousness, I didn’t wake up.

55: Don’t Feel a Thing

Thefunnythingaboutdying is you don’t feel a thing. You can tell that your body is broken, or feel the sensation of something digging into your flesh, piercing through you. But the pain never comes. Everything fades away, and all that is left is white. That’s it. Just white. There’s no sorrow, no hate, no love. Just white…and everything’s empty.

I never contemplated what dying would be like. My brain only ever thought of surviving, of living to see another day no matter what. And for me, though I hated to admit it, the solution was always to run. Run and never look back. Sometimes the running was physical, my legs carrying me as fast as they could. Sometimes it was mental, like when Raúl would lecture me about how I was a disappointment, my brain tuning him out as best as possible to spare my self-esteem. Sometimes it was emotional, refusing to accept a truth that hurt too much to embrace. I always ran. It was how I survived.

I suppose it was fitting, then, that when I finally chose not to run anymore, to ignore the instinct that had worked for years to preserve my life, I’d die.

It really wasn’t so bad. Kind of nice, really, because I wasn’t in pain anymore. And my memories were nothing but that, memories. They meant nothing.

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