Page 58 of A Very Happy Thanksgiving
Not to me, anyway. His buddy froze mid-stride and opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out, not before I hit him with another hornet.
“What’s that noise?” Marc asked. “What are they doing?”
“Trust me; you don’t want to know.”
Men began shouting. Running. Hornets hunted them as KD curled into the foetal position and wept. So much death. And inside, I broke a little more too. Thugs weren’t the only thing dying today; it was also the final nail in the coffin for my relationship. Despite our differences, I’d always loved Marc. I always would. And deep down, I’d always harboured a secret hope that when I aged out of doing what I did and he got sick of pretending for money, ditched whatever Hollywood trinket was sharing his bed, and took up painting again, we’d grow old together.
But now? Now he’d never look at me the same way again.
Thwack.
Another one gone.
Another piece of me shattered.
Maybe that was why I tunnelled in on myself? Why I focused on the screen instead of my surroundings? None of this is real. Hostiles were bugging out now, tripping as they scrambled through the undergrowth.
Thwack.
Thwack.
The crack of a gun came from close by, too close. In my peripheral vision, Marc stared at my Glock in horror, and beyond him, a body pitched forward out of the trees, landing in a crumpled heap.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“I just…I just…” he started.
I snatched the weapon out of his hand and scanned the trees, searching for danger. Nothing. No movement.
No sound.
Only Storm’s whispered, “Oh, shit,” in my ear.
KD’s sniffles.
My own heart as it hammered against my ribcage.
Then Jez, calm and steady. “Coming up behind you.”
And it was my turn to weep.
CHAPTER 22
Marc
Someone had booked the entire top floor of the Metrolux in Jayapura, and reporters were baying for blood outside. Every news channel showed the facade of the hotel. The paparazzi tried sneaking into the lobby, but a bunch of Indonesian cops had started arresting anyone who didn’t belong in the hotel while their colleagues tried to unravel the mess.
Kidnappers.
Terrorists.
Celebrities.
Harried diplomats.
A bunch of climate protesters facing off against fans wearing “Free Marc” T-shirts.
