“Remove the clip from your weapon,” I said to Billy’s remaining friend. “Then remove their clips as well.”
I pointed to the dead bodies.
“Toss the clips out that door. Throw them as far as you can. Seth, pick up your gun and throw it out the door. Throw Thomas’ out the door. I don’t want complications. I have work to do.”
When I was confident I wouldn’t be shot, at least not right away, I backed away from them, toward the warehouse door. As soon as I fell into shadows, I turn and ran.
The noise of the crowd continued to swell. Near the exit, from my hidden stash of weapons and ammunition, I grabbed two extra clips and stuffed them into my pants. It was all I could carry for the moment.
As I climbed the stairs, I devised a story to tell Paige. She was already approaching when I reached the roof, holding a handgun at waist level that looked ready to fire.
“What the hell happened down there?”
“There was an argument among the new people. Two men are down. The crowd is coming. Anthony wants everyone to leave and needs you inside the warehouse to provide cover. I’m supposed to fire warning shots from up here.”
“What good will it do to fire warning shots?”
“To stop the crowd long enough for you guys to get away.”
“What about you?” she said. “Will you leave or just go full Alamo?”
“I’ll be fine. I like to go it alone.”
“I can’t put my finger on it,” she said, “but something is off about you. Like you have no empathy. Like you’re not even human.”
These words were meant to provoke a response, but I didn’t take the bait. I kept my eye on the prize.
Eventually Paige backed away and lowered herself onto the ladder. She watched me carefully, but she needn’t have worried. I respected Paige too much to shoot her.
When she was on the ground, I scrambled toward the front of the roof and peered over the edge. The crowd had grown more belligerent. They were reacting to something near the fence line. Something I couldn’t see.
Then it hit me. The woman who looked so familiar was a famous actress. The blonde chick in Darkest Energy. Skylar Stover.
Larry had taken her outside to prove his claim that all this was a film.
And maybe he was right. Maybe my imminent scene was the climax.
I surveyed the crowd until I found the woman from before, the fat one in red. The one whose shirt read I’M A LUCKY DEVIL.
I shouldered my weapon.
Placed my finger on the trigger.
Natalie kept seeing the image of Billy and Miguel going down in a heap. She kept hearing the machine gun, the staccato roar of it, which was an evil sound, like industrial human death. But clutching each of her legs was a seven-year-old boy even more terrified than her, and love for Ben and Brandon had focused her mind. She had to get them out of this warehouse. It was the only thing that mattered. The problem was Aiden, the man with the awful eyes, who had run by only moments before. She didn’t know where he was.
Seth and Tim were still in the open area of the warehouse. Larry had taken Skylar and Thomas hostage. Natalie didn’t want to leave the others behind, but if forced to pick, her allegiance was to her sons. What she needed was a sign or sound to know if Aiden was nearby or long gone.
She would have expected the ringing in her ears to hinder her ability to hear, but instead it seemed to isolate actual sounds. Because now she could hear soft footsteps. Like someone creeping forward on the balls of her feet, trying to mask the sound of her approach. Natalie realized she could almost smell the person coming. It was the woman from the roof. The sniper.
“Paige!” Natalie whispered loudly. “Is that you?”
The footsteps stopped.
“Paige, it’s me, Natalie. My sons are here.”
Now the footsteps crept forward and turned into the row where Natalie and the boys stood. Paige was a silhouette. Her heartbeat was fast but not frantic. She was a woman in control of her emotions. A woman of unusual strength. She held her gun as if it were a part of her body.
“What happened?” asked Paige. “Are you guys okay?”
“For now we are. But I’m afraid to take my boys outside unless I know that awful man is gone.”
“Aiden is on the roof,” Paige said. “You should run for the trees. He’s watching the crowd out front and probably won’t see you.”
Natalie felt a rush of relief, but also guilt. Now that Paige was here, maybe there was something to be done about Seth. About Skylar and Thomas.
“Larry took my friends out front,” Natalie explained. “He thinks the pulse is Thomas’ fault.”
“Why?”
“It’s a long story. But we walked all day under the sun to get here. I can’t just leave them behind.”
As Natalie said this, the crowd grew suddenly quiet, as if taking a breath.
“Listen,” said Paige. “Give me two minutes. I might be able to help. If I see your husband, I’ll tell him where you are. He can help you get away.”
“Thank you,” Natalie said. “Thank you so much.”
“But if one of us doesn’t return in two minutes, run out of here and head for the trees. Understand?”
“I understand. Please be careful.”
It was too dark to tell, but Natalie thought maybe Paige had smiled.
“I can take care of myself,” she said.
Larry stood at the fence with Thomas and Skylar. He felt like a king. All eyes in the crowd were on him.
He had walked across the lawn with his arm around Skylar’s neck, her back to the crowd all the way, her identity a secret. Her skin was like silk. Her hair tickled his cheek. His hands wanted to roam across her chest, fondle her heavy breasts, but Larry was afraid Skylar would fight back if he broke concentration. She was a formidable kickboxer, after all. Anyone who followed her on Instagram knew that. Larry himself had downloaded every one of her videos, had fiddled with their brightness and contrast to add dimension to the contours of her Lululemon ass. How he longed to please her. To own her.
“By the way,” he whispered to Thomas. “I’m the one who sent Matt to your house. You should have let me have some of that curry.”
“You hate yourself,” said Thomas. “So of course you hate everyone else.”
“I should never have gone outside,” Skylar lamented.
“It’s not your fault,” Thomas said. “It’s my fault. I never took any of this seriously enough.”
Rather than listen to the lovebirds coo in each other’s ears, Larry puffed out his chest and motioned to the crowd.
“Are you people ready to eat?”
The crowd roared, an organism poised to pounce. Larry absorbed their power, exalted.
“Before I let you in,” he said, “I want to know how you think the world came to be this way. Who here knows what happened?”
“An alien attack!”
“It’s God’s retribution for all our sin!”
“The Federal government did this to us! Oppressors!”
“No!” yelled Larry. “It’s all this man’s fault! This rich and famous screenwriter! He wrote this world and now you’re stuck in his movie!”
Larry waited for the crowd to cheer louder, or at the very least jeer and boo Thomas. But they didn’t.
“Come on, sir!” yelled a woman. “Just let us in! My baby is starving!”
“We don’t even know who that guy is!” shouted someone else.
“But you know this woman!” bellowed Larry. He twisted Skylar around to face the crowd, the gun now pressed against the back of her neck. “Why would she be here except to make a movie?”
Surely, when these anonymous nobodies identified his dazzling princess, they would finally be convinced. Larry would accept the recognition he deserved after languishing in obscurity for so many years.