Page 71 of Girl, Forlorn

High school losers did have the most interesting lives.

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

Sitting in the field of metal with a coil of copper wire lodged into her backside, Ella had to ask herself the burning question.

Was it all worth it?

Four dead victims. One traumatized potential victim. One killer who’d spend his final years in a prison cell. A nearly-suffocated partner, a shattered ankle and another fragment chipped off her soul from witnessing the worst of humanity. The chaos of the night was giving way to the order of the day - police officers securing the scene, paramedics tending to the injured, and the slow, methodical work of investigators beginning.

Ripley, nursing a bruised arm and still catching her breath from the ordeal in the fridge, turned to Ella. Her eyes, though tired, held a depth of understanding that only those who had faced death together could share.

‘What a waste,’ Ripley said.

Ella’s gaze drifted across the metal wasteland. EMTs attended to Arthur, supervised by enough police officers to fill a football stadium.

‘What a waste,’ she echoed. ‘Sometimes I wonder if this job is changing me.’

Ripley reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Ella's shoulder. 'Yes, it is, but not in the way you think. It makes us more determined to make a difference. We've seen the abyss, but we don't have to let it consume us.'

Ella watched the police escort Arthur – the cereal boy – to a waiting police car. Ella looked up at the sky, now streaked with the colors of dawn. ‘Sometimes, I fear that one day I won't be able to climb out of that abyss.’

Ripley laughed off the comment. ‘You think too much,’ she said.

Ella had to agree. ‘Yup.’

‘Just be in the moment,’ Ripley said as she gestured towards the scene of Arthur being shoved into the back of a police cruiser. ‘Because there might not be a tomorrow. How’s your ankle?’

Ella lifted up her shattered leg and shook it. ‘Still attached.’

‘Looks gnarly,’ Ripley said.

‘EMT said I’ll live. Not the most in-depth diagnosis but I’ll take it. I’ll probably be singing a different tune once the adrenaline wears off.’

‘No one wants to die without any scars.’

Ella picked up her empty pistol off the ground and passed it to Ripley. ‘Hold this for me? Apparently I shouldn’t put any extra weight on my ankle.’

Ripley took the weapon and inspected it over. ‘Six bullets down. Carter is gonna be pissed,’ Ripley laughed.

‘Yeah, we didn’t update him at all. I doubt he even knows we’ve caught our unsub.’

'Oh, he knows. He's got people in Stamford PD watching us. That's how he knew about our bar fight.'

Ella shrugged, unable to find much concern. ‘I wish I could say I cared.’

'You've got more important things to worry about. Have you ever used crutches before?'

‘Never. You think I can pull them off?’

‘No. You’ll look ridiculous.’

‘At least I’ll get a week off.’

Ripley rose to her feet then helped up her partner. ‘If you’re lucky. Come on soldier, get your ass up.’

Ella hobbled to a standing position, using Ripley for support. ‘You alright to carry me back to D.C.?’

‘You wish,’ Ripley said. ‘What you need is a nice long flight back home. The altitude will do you good.’

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