A shot rang out and it pierced Scott’s shoulder. The pain radiated down his arm and he held on to the railing. Tears stung his eyes and his clothes whipped around his body. He thought of Maxine—his perfect mate, the mother of his children. He thought of her strength, her resoluteness, and her power. When he first met her, he knew that he had to spend the rest of his life with her. He knew he would be a better man for making her his everything. They had made such beautiful children. Strong and brave. Tender and empathetic. They were amazing, despite his own shortcomings as a father.
Another shot rang out and this time the bullet pierced his side. With all of his remaining strength, Scott pushed himself off the edge and let his body slip into a free fall. He could see the ocean below him, the rapidly approaching swirl of blue and gray and white foam. The hair on his arm stood on end and a buzzing, zipping, sound filled his ears. He closed his eyes. And smiled.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Lucy heard the explosion and rushed to the glass. Their westward-facing window provided them a brief glimpse of black smoke spiraling downward into the sea and upward into the clouds. She gasped and placed her hands against the window, and then spun to her mother. The King family gathered and watched the smoke, and they pushed their noses against the glass. Maxine placed her hand on Galen’s shoulder.
“Oh my God,” Maxine whisper. “Tell me that was not what I think it was.”
“Did a plane go down?” Galen asked. His breath fogged up the window in front of him. “What happened?” He shifted and turned to his mother. “Mom, was it them?” His lip trembled and he looked back out to the ocean, frozen.
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” Maxine replied, her voice catching. “No. No. It’s nothing, come away from the window.” She pulled them each away and went to the wall, and with long pulls of the cord she shut the curtain, blocking out the natural sun and the view of the distant wreck outside.
“Mom—” Lucy started, but Maxine raised a hand.
“I can’t stay in this house,” her mother said. “With Ethan gone and your father out God knows where. I can’t.” She walked into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water, and she drank it in one gulp. Maxine filled the glass again and stood with her back to her children, holding the glass and staring at the wall.
“Where will we go?” Harper asked.
“Where do you want to go?” Maxine asked the girl without looking, and Harper beamed at the responsibility of choosing.
“To the park!”
Maxine set the full glass of water down on the counter and leaned over her map; she scanned and skimmed and then placed her finger on a small green square. “Perfect. We’ll go the park.” She lined them all up and inspected for socks and matching shoes. She made a joke about climate-controlled parks and not needing jackets and Lucy tried to smile. Everyone was quiet as they walked. Maxine led the way with Harper’s hand in her own and she kept her head up high. But when they reached the sky bridge, Lucy could tell that something was wrong. People passed them, and there were whispers. A few people stared at Maxine and the brood with narrow eyes, judging them as they passed. A few looked sad. Mournful. One woman put a hand over her heart and looked down at Harper with her lopsided ponytails and made a small sound of pity.
When they reached the end of the bridge and began to make their way to the elevator in the middle of the open atrium, they all heard the shouts and commands, which seemed to rain down on them from all directions.
Lucy’s stomach dropped and she began to shake. She grabbed on to Galen and they stood there holding each other as the guards surrounded them, their guns lifted and in place. One guard even aimed his registered weapon at Harper. Still, Maxine stood up tall. She took one look at the men and turned to her children.
“It’s fine,” she whispered. “Stand tall. Be still and stand tall.”
A gangly man in a crisp blue uniform approached Mama Maxine and stood toe-to-toe with her; he crossed his arms and peered down at the family. More guards materialized from the corners and they formed a half-circle around the Kings. If a middle-aged woman and her five children garnered that much attention from the military, then Lucy couldn’t fathom how they would respond when faced with a real threat. She scanned the open atrium and saw a group of rubberneckers huddling near the elevator, watching the scene unfold. And she could see the concierge wringing her hands at her table and an expression of both concern and interest on her face.
“Mrs. King,” the tall man said with an undercurrent of contempt. “We are authorized to hold you for questioning. Your family is restricted from gaining access to the towers at this time.”
“We’re going to the park!” Harper told him. The man didn’t blink.
“What is this about?” Maxine asked.
Lucy marveled at the strength and calm in her mother’s voice. She gave no hint that she was unraveling, that she had said goodbye to her oldest son, that she had seen and heard the explosion out her window. All her life she had thought that her mom was unbreakable—an unstoppable force, a wealth of knowledge, wisdom, and power—but as she watched her mother stare at the guard in front of her, her jaw tight, her eyes exposing nothing of the pain inside, Lucy realized that the most important trait her mother possessed was being a good actress. She didn’t deny herself the opportunities to fall apart and feel pain, but she could control it. While anger and fear crept its way into Lucy’s features, while she trembled against her younger brother, she marveled at her mother’s confidence.
Lucy took a deep breath and she thought of Grant.
And Ethan.
She thought of the fiery ball in the sky and the smoke.
Something stirred in her, a voice of remembering: to die would be their only safe way to escape. Ethan had not breathed a word of their plan, but she knew the plan would involve a death. A ruse. A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth and Lucy closed her eyes. She imagined her brother, Teddy, and Grant safe on the beach—reunited with the other survivors, and slinking away from the rubble. That is what she wanted to rest in; that is what she wanted to believe.
“I’m sorry,” the guard said, but he didn’t sound sorry. His radio crackled. “Return to your house and wait, please.”
“I will not,” Maxine said. “It’s a beautiful day on Kymberlin and I’m taking my kids to the park. I demand to talk with someone about this oversight.”
The elevator dinged open and Huck and Gordy appeared on cue. They stepped off and looked at each other, and Maxine moved forward. She pushed her way past the guards and walked straight to their leader. The kids followed behind her, crowded around her arms and legs; they moved as one. Guns and eyes followed them.
“Escort her to her house,” Huck said as Maxine approached.
“Why am I not allowed access to the tower?” she asked, placing her hands on her hips. “I demand an answer.”
Huck’s mouth twitched. Gordy slid between them and he tried to place his hands on Maxine’s shoulders to spin her back around, but she twisted out from under him and shot him a glare so penetrating that Gordy dropped his arms and retreated.
“Explain,” she seethed.
“Go home,” Gordy whispered. He was shaken. “Go home.” Then he added, “Please, Maxine...go home and be with your children. Someone will be with you shortly. Just go home, Maxine, your kids will need you.”