Page 31 of Red Hunt

“Does your family still live there?”

“No. My mom moved to Florida a couple years back.”

“And your dad?”

His features hardened when I mentioned his dad. And I immediately regretted being so nosy.

“My dad is not in the picture.” The finality in his voice kept me from opening my mouth again. I shouldn’t have asked in the first place because what would I do if he asked me back? What would I say? My childhood, my family were so messed up. I didn’t even know where to begin.

“How about you tell me a little something about yourself? Who are you, Milli Patterson?”

And there it was… Where could I even begin telling him about my messed-up life? And I really wanted to tell him…everything. But suddenly he jumped up, knocked over the table, grabbed me from my seat, threw me on the asphalt behind it, and landed on me. That’s when I heard…shots fired?

“Stay down, I got you.”

I pressed my face into the asphalt and tried to control my rasping breath. Despite my upbringing, I’d never heard the sound of a gun before, never witnessed anything like that. I clenched my jaw and concentrated on Max above me. His warmth seeped into my back, his weight on me pushed me firmly onto the ground, and I could feel his breath on my ear.

“Stay. Don’t move until I say so. Got it?”

My “yes” was whispered and soundless, but he squeezed my shoulder in reply.

Then he crawled off of me and to the side, took his time, peeked around the table, and observed the situation.

“The shooter is gone. I gotta help. Can you dial 911?” He took my hand and pushed his phone into it. “Tell them where we are and how there were three shots fired and there’s a man down.” Then he darted away.

I slowly got up, and I did what he told me to do like a robot though my voice was trembling, as was my whole body. How could Max stay so calm?

Within minutes, an ambulance arrived at the scene. Lucky we were just a couple blocks from the hospital. And even though I stayed put, leaning against the overthrown table, not once did I let Max out of my sight while he helped the EMTs who started working on the victim. There was a pool of blood, a lot of mayhem, but Max stayed calm and barked commands.

“GSW to the abdomen, no exit wound. He’s coughing up blood.”

With that, I looked away. I was bad with blood. Bad with all kinds of injuries. So, I stared at Max’s phone in my hand and let the mayhem wash over me. This was Whitebrook, for God’s sake. Shootings like this didn’t happen here. At least I didn’t think so. My eyes met those of a little girl, who was standing a couple feet away, watching anxiously what was going on.

“Where’s your mom?” I asked her and looked around, but there was nobody there.

She shrugged, her eyes huge.

“Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, but suddenly her eyes turned over and I could see her fall in slow motion. I crawled as fast as I could and wrenched my hand under her head to keep it from crashing to the ground.

“Max,” I screamed.

He was by my side in a heartbeat. His hands covered in a pair of gloves, he checked the little girl’s vitals and looked her over from head to toe.

“What happened?” he barked, but it didn’t scare me.

“She was standing there watching and then she fainted. I wasn’t fast enough.”

Two paramedics approached and loaded the girl onto a gurney. Max walked with them until they disappeared into an ambulance.

It took him a while until he came back to me. Nobody ever came back for me. Nobody except my grandpa.

He sat down next to me, right there on the sidewalk between tables and chairs. He’d changed his shirt, and his hands were clean. When had he had time and opportunity to wash up?

“How are you holding up?”

I shrugged. I honestly didn’t know. It was all still a bit surreal. Maybe unsafe was the right word for what I was feeling. This was Whitebrook, after all.

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