Page 109 of Crybaby

Walter probably sent in the troops to save his son when he got the call from the cops—Carson, that is. So we got screwed over by a little old lady, and my dad, who knew what calling the cops would do to me.

It fucking stings, but I’m not about to cry about it.

We literally have nowhere to run because the property is surrounded by the cops.

We run.

We die.

“Hands in the air!”

Darcie looks at me, pleading that I don’t surrender. She’d rather this be a Bonnie and Clyde ending than be captured alive. “No! This is not the end.”

“I love you,” I mouth before reaching into the small of my back for my gun.

This is not the end of the line for her…but for me, it is.

Just as I’m about to fire this place up like a Fourth of July barbecue, an earsplitting boom rattles us to our cores. It takes a moment, but I see the shot came from Buckets’s dad, who stumbles down the porch stairs, shotgun in hand.

“My son will be home soon. You’re parked in his spot!” he screams, clearly delirious, but it’s the derail I need.

“Run!” I scream to Darcie, and when the police shout at Buckets’s dad to drop his weapon, she stubbornly shakes her head.

“Not without you!”

“Chuck, drop the gun. Now!” the police shout, which is answered with another shot.

Mayhem erupts in the form of gunfire, and we all duck for cover. Darcie uses the truck as a shield while I dive for a tractor. Cocking my gun, I peer around it, prepared to fight to the death to get to Darcie becausethisis the ending I was preparing for.

Shots zip through the air, and I fire back when some asshole in full SWAT gear shoots at Darcie.

We lock eyes from across the field, and she too knows this is the end, in one way or another. As far as the cops know, she’s still an unwilling participant in all of this. I’m the one with the gun.

I stand and begin shooting at anything that moves. I can hear Darcie’s screams, but if they focus on me, she has a chance at running.

I duck and weave, using anything I can as a shield. The cops shoot, but I won’t stop until Darcie is free. She, however, won’t surrender and starts fighting, using the shovel we buried Carson with as a weapon. I need to think fast, which is why I aim and shoot a young rookie in the stomach.

“Officer down!”

All attention is riveted my way, and I hope for once in her fucking life, she does as she’s told. I’m taken down by a bulldozer of a cop who almost breaks my wrist while disarming me.

With his knee in the middle of my back, I lift my chin and look at my little firecracker who set my world on fire, and for that, I’ll thank her until the day I die.

With tears in her eyes, she wrestles with her emotions, her inner turmoil clear. But good sense prevails in the end because she can’t save me—no one can.

She takes off into the woods, reminding me of the first night we met. My little rabbit is finally free. It’s finally over.

I give up because my reason for fighting has gone.

I’m yanked up, punched in the guts, and handcuffed while being read my rights. I simply laugh in response as I look at the chaos I’ve created. I’m thrown into the back seat of a cop car.

I wonder what the holdup is, but when I hear the unmistakable sound of dirt being shifted, I know that it’s not fucking over—shit has only just begun.

I watch as they pull a limp Carson from the ground, desperate for air as he drops to his hands and knees, gulping in breaths.

How can this motherfucker still be alive?

I’m expecting them to wrap him in a fluffy little blanket and offer him some refreshments because, you know, he was buried alive. But none of that happens.

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