“No way,” Twix said. He glanced back at Trigger, who was by the bars talking to the governor’s wife. Trigger was shaking his head, but Twix saw him hand her something.
“No… Trigger—” Twix realized what he’d done, but it was too late. There was a subdued pop with a louder echo. Reagan was mere inches from Twix and understood at the same time what had happened. Twix turned to her as the water covered his face. “Get the girls over there.” He pointed to the far corner—the opposite end of the cell from the governor’s wife. He pushed back up to the last inch of air space in the basement. “Sam. It’s done. Put the damn mask on.”
Sam shook his head, angry, but did as he was told.
Reagan kept the girls away from the governor’s wife, who was floating on the opposite side of the cell surrounded by her own blood. Sam was right beside them, shielding the girls from the scene as best as he could. The four members of the Pack swam out of the basement and up the tunnel, finally emerging into the dark night air. They had one hour—at the most—to get the girls and Sam out of the cell. That was a given. How? That was the unknown.
“What did she say to you?” Twix turned to Trigger. “Why did you give her your gun?”
“She wanted to know if I knew what her husband had done and if I understood that he was just trying to save her. She asked me to protect him in the fallout. I told her I would. She asked me for my gun—said she needed to do it—and I didn’t argue. Someone needed to die.” Trigger took a deep breath and then looked at the other three, apparently realizing how matter-of-factly he’d spoken. Then he continued. “She said they’d have no leverage on him now.”
As Twix had explained everything involving the governor to Deacon and Royce earlier, they now all understood what his wife’s last words meant. The governor should be permanently on the right side now. He had nothing left he loved—to lose.
On the flip side, Sam was still alive—a surprising discovery. Hopefully, they’d be able to keep him that way. They had work to do now to get all of them out.
FIFTY-TWO – Aftershock (Tara)
I could hear the cry for help, but I couldn’t do anything about it. In a state of shock, I somehow hadn’t even realized I’d lost Ollie. Here I was with my arms wrapped around Kate, trying to shield her from the rain as she slowly—groggily—came back around, and I hadn’t even thought about Ollie. When it finally hit me, I almost dropped Kate. There isn’t a word for how stunned I was at that exact moment. I began crying and dry heaving—finally vomiting off the edge of the platform. I clutched Kate tightly against me but now was also frantically looking around for any sign of Ollie.
What kind of mother am I? What kind of mother lets her baby go without first losing her own arms and then doesn’t instantly think of him? I dropped my baby! I could feel the sob welling up in my chest before it came out, and once the first one broke through, they didn’t stop. I squeezed Kate tightly and rocked her, crying as hard as I’d ever cried. I’d lost my husband. I’d lost my baby. I’d experienced shock before but nothing like this. I could hear Kate mumbling, but her words weren’t registering. I was talking, but I didn’t know what I was saying. Finally, somehow Kate mustered enough strength to reach up and pull my hair. The pain—briefly—snapped me out of it. “Ouch, Kate. Ow.”
“Help,” Kate said then—I actually heard her.
“What, baby?” I choked out in a whisper. Baby? “Kate, what do you need?”
Kate shook her head and pointed in the direction of the cries I’d been hearing. “Help.”
“It’s not Ollie.” I shook my head. “I need to find Oliver. But we’re stuck here.”
Kate was not like me. I’d had people tell me I was strong, but I wasn’t like Kate. She could tell I was frozen in place—that on my own I wasn’t going to do anything. Without her I was going to stay here—in shock—cry, and probably even die. Kate wasn’t willing to accept that.
Where she found the courage and strength to pull herself up and away from me, I’ll never know. But she did, and she turned to look me in the eyes. In doing so, she grimaced and grabbed her stomach. Somewhere in my mind I knew that wasn’t good, and I was pretty sure she did too, but Kate became like Wonder Woman in that moment. She got right in my face and snapped me out of my stupor.
“Tara, listen to me. There is someone down there. We have to try to…” She paused and squeezed my hand, grunting as a wave of pain shot through her. She leaned over the edge and threw up, but then found a way to continue. “We have to help them.”
I shook my head again, but this time I didn’t object with words. As I watched her try to stand against the part of the tree that still held us in place—and listened to her groan in agony—I found a little spirit of my own. If she can do this in her state… I helped her stand and slowly stood beside her. It was still so dark we couldn’t see anything else around us, but we knew the wall of water was gone, so twelve feet below us there was dry—or at least muddy—land. In theory.
“How do we get down?” I asked her.
“You’re still tethered to the tree. My tether won’t hold anymore. It’s a wonder it even…” Another searing wave of pain washed over her. “…held me at all.”
Don’t know how mine did either. “So you want me to try to climb down?”
“No.” Kate shook her head—perhaps afraid I’d freeze up again down there. “Let me put your tether on, and you can help lower me to the ground.”
I knew there was no way she should be able to keep going in the amount of pain she was clearly in. But she fastened my tether around her, and I helped lower her down the tree as far as I could. I heard her call up for me to unhook it, and I did. I heard her fall and give a sharp cry of pain. “Kate.” No response. “Kate.”
Still no response.
I don’t know if she was aware enough to have had this sequence be intentional, but I started thinking about someone other than myself. I knew I was strong enough to lower myself down and hang from the remaining boards of the deck. I knew if I dropped from that point, at the worst I’d fall six feet or so. I knew I could probably handle that.
I suddenly became much more aware of my immediate surroundings. The wind and rain were picking up again. My hair was matted to the side of my face, and when I tried to move it, the associated burn was so searing I knew I must have cuts and blood all over my face. I gingerly ran my fingers across my arms and legs and found they too were layered in cuts and bruises. My shirt was shredded and barely clinging to me, and my jean shorts were about the only intact article of clothing left. I slid carefully to the edge and slipped over it, eventually hanging freely in the air—six to seven feet above the ground. I took a breath and dropped, landing hard but rolling as soon as my feet hit the ground. The rain was pelting my cut-up body now, and I cringed as I lifted myself out of a large puddle of mud. I remained kneeling for a second until I felt someone beside me.
Kate was doubled over but extending her hand to me. “Good job.”
I shook my head. I didn’t deserve her praise. “You’re amazing.”
She didn’t acknowledge my reply. She kept her head down, and we listened for the cry for help. Instead we heard a different noise—a wonderful noise. A baby crying. Ollie!