Last Light Falling (18 page)

I realize now that the man is the owner of the cleaners who allowed Jacob to stay in the bedroom above the store. “They tried to arrest him for rummaging through the garbage on private property, but I tried to tell them that he was with me. They didn’t want to listen, and when Jacob jumped out of the dumpster, they just shot him without any warning,” the man continues.

I’m so paralyzed from the shock; words can’t flow from my lips, so I just stare through the void of empty silence and sink into oblivion for a few seconds. And then suddenly, every fruitless event of my entire life races through my brain in a single flash just as my eyes refocus back to reality, and the blood comes rushing back to my face like an ocean wave. My knees buckle, and I fall to the ground, as if my soul has just left my body. I cry uncontrollably, releasing all the pent-up emotions bursting from my spirit, followed by screams of rage.

I therapeutically rock myself back and forth into a stupor, trying to erase the pain or at least mask it temporarily. I run upstairs to avoid the sad, consoling faces or any empathy that may follow. I just want to weep alone right now, cling to my dagger, and drown in my own mourning.

I walk over to my window and gaze up at the few stars I can see through the muddy sky and wonder what my mother would say to me right now. What kind of advice might she offer, or would she just gently hold me in her arms without an answer?

I look down at the black street and wonder why I was born into this world. Every bit of anger and rage I’m harboring is battling my will to forgive, and unexpectedly, I’m reminded by the poem my mother wrote that I read earlier. I drop to my knees, cover my face, and attempt to pray through this chaos swimming in my head.

I feel emotionally overwhelmed and completely lost, but it suddenly comes to a complete halt. I hear a distant gunshot from my window. I immediately get up and look out the window to see officers running down the street about four blocks away. A family is being forced out of their house and put onto a bus, but the father appears to resist and is quickly shot in the head.

Children are screaming and running to their dead father as two more officers pull them off and fling them to the ground. They eventually get one of the kids onto the bus with their mother, but the other one tries to run and is immediately shot in the back. My heart sinks, I gasp for air, and I shiver with anger.

I grab what I can from my room, stuff it into my backpack, and race downstairs. “We have to go, now! Everybody get up!” I yell.

“We heard gunshots,” says Daniel.

“Officers down the street, they’re here to come take us. It’s started. We need to go now!” I say, running toward the door.

I look around the room and notice Juliana and the old man are gone. “Where’s Juliana?” I ask Gabe.

“I had the old man take her back home. I thought her family might be worried.”

“Dammit! We have to get her, it’s not safe!” I shout.

“What do you mean? What the hell is going on?” Gabe asks.

“Wait, let me get some things before we leave,” says Myra.

“No! Forget about it, there isn’t enough time, let’s go!” I say.

We start to run out the back door, but there are already officers waiting there. The front street is flooded with about dozen, and now there is nowhere to go.

“Come, hide down here until they leave,” says Myra, pointing toward the basement.

We quickly get downstairs, but before I get halfway down, the basement door shuts. I do a head count: Gabe, Henry, and Father Joseph. Myra, Daniel, and Niki are not here. I race back up to see what happened to them, but it’s too late. I can already hear the officers breaking in the front door and Myra and Daniel surrendering to go. I put my ears up to the basement door to better hear what’s going on.

“Is there anybody else residing in this household?” one of the officers asks.

“No, it’s just the wife and I,” says Daniel. I hear footsteps right outside the basement door, so I slowly take my ear from the door and carefully turn the lock without making any noise.

“Take ′em to the bus with the others. Gibbs and Johnson, search the second floor, I’ll comb the rest of the area,” the officer says.

After a few minutes, I hear the bus drive off and the two officers coming down the stairs with their heavy boots.

“Sir, the rooms are clear, but there appears to be more than just the two dwelling in this house, two more kids possibly,” says one of the officers.

“How old?” asks the lead officer.

“Most likely teens, sir,” he says.

I gingerly walk down the steps and tell everyone what’s happened. “They are looking for us, we need to find a way out now,” I say.

Henry looks over by an old dryer and behind it are steps leading to the cellar doors outside. “Hurry, this is our way out,” says Henry.

I hear the basement doorknob trying to turn upstairs, followed by a commotion. Henry opens the cellar doors when it’s clear and looks around outside before we make a run for it. As I ascend up the steps, I hear a scream coming from upstairs. My blood curdles. It’s Niki.

“Go! That’s Niki, and I’m not leaving her behind. Father, take Henry through the tunnels where it’s safer. Gabe and I will catch up,” I say.

“I’ll stay here with you, Gabe can go,” says Henry.

“No, I need Gabe here with me to get back through the tunnels. Now go, I promise we will make it back, trust me,” I assure Henry as I stare at the basement door. They make a run for it behind the back fence into the alley, and by the time I turn back around to see if they left, there is nothing but darkness.

“So how are we going to do this?” Gabe asks nervously.

“I don’t know, maybe we—”

Suddenly, the door atop the stairs shudders as someone on the other side tussles with the knob.

I panic for a brief moment, then look down by the corner of the stairs and notice a spool of copper wire on in a ragged box. I grab the small spool and wrap the wire around the bottom of the stair rail near the top of the basement. I quickly stretch the other end around the other side of the stair railing, making a simple trip wire.

As the door shakes louder and louder, I nervously look down at Gabe, who’s shivering with fright. I walk down the stairs and make sure Gabe has his gun’s safety off and ready to fire. “All you have to do is squeeze.”

We can now hear the door being kicked by the officer’s boot as we prepare for the door to come swinging open any moment. “Aim for the
head, Gabe.” I climb up on top of the railing beside the door. I want to position myself where the side of the door swinging out hides me, while giving me the higher ground to strike down on the officer with my knife.

The jarred door nearly rattles off its hinges and aggressively swings open, giving me a clear shot to the back of the officer’s neck with my dagger. While I reach up, ready to come down with the point of my blade, he effortlessly trips over the copper wire down to the bottom of the stairs and lies motionless. By the sound of the crack of his neck, it appears he has saved us the trouble of killing him. With the door open, I now hear Niki screaming even louder, letting me know she is still in the house.

Suddenly, two officers wearing gasmasks descend down the steps from the cellar doors. “Gabe, look out!”

I quickly pull out my silenced M1911 and drill both soldiers with ease directly to the head. I stand on the steps distraught for a minute before Gabe shakes me back to coherence. “What’s wrong?” Gabe asks.

“Nothing,” I respond. I slowly pull the gun down to my side and just stare at the two officers on the floor and realize it’s the first time I’ve killed a human being. I feel empty inside as I stare at the blood running down the officer’s head. This is not how I thought it would feel. As soon as the guilt wears on my weary heart, I feel somewhat cold, but then I soon remember what they did to Jacob, and any regret I had comes to a complete halt. I suddenly feel a fire breathing from my soul and anger quickly replaces the guilt.
I’m glad the officers are dead.

We hurry upstairs into the living room and see no one around until we hear screams coming from the kitchen. Through the kitchen door, I catch a flashing glimpse of someone on the table as the door swings back and forth. I put my foot near the bottom of the swinging door, stopping it enough to where I can see who it is.

Rage pumps through my veins as one of the officers holds a gun to Niki’s head while the other takes advantage, raping her. Without hesitation or an ounce of fear, I charge through the kitchen door and lunge toward the officer with the gun, piercing the dagger through the bottom of his neck upward through his mouth and into his head. I turn to the other officer with my gun drawn, and his hands dart in the air, pleading his life to be spared.

“Don’t shoot, I’m unarmed!” he pleads.

I aim the gun from his head and drop it down to his crotch, then shoot off his penis. “No, now you’re unarmed,” I say. “Gabe, take his gun.”

“Are you okay? Can you walk?” I ask Niki, as I help her get up and dressed. She doesn’t respond. The shock of being held down and brutally taken advantage of has kept her silent. She just clings to me, hugging and crying.

I pull out my dagger from the officer’s neck, wiping off the blood and meaty flesh on his uniform. Niki spits in her attacker’s face as he writhes on the floor in pain, moaning and wailing, cursing me for his blood-soaked crotch.

“What are we going to do with him, Arena? He’s just going to leave here and tell everyone about this. They will be everywhere hunting us down,” says Gabe.

“I guess we’ll have to make it harder for him to leave then,” I say as I shoot both his kneecaps off. I could have put this man out of his misery with a bullet in his head, but I leave him to suffer instead.

I crouch down next to the man. “You may be in pain here for a long time, but it will be nothing compared to the hell that awaits you on the other side. May God have mercy on your soul,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Damn you, fucking whore, and your God,” he responds.

“So be it,” I say as we leave him.

We quickly run out the back door toward the fence, and Gabe leads us to one of the tunnels, where he and Father Joseph walked earlier. Whether the government figures out who executed their officers or not, we have left our first of many marks to come.

As we race through the underground channels, we are suddenly halted by an explosion aboveground that rocks the interior of the tunnel, causing the passage ahead of us to collapse. We are now forced to either go back or find another opening in the tunnel. “This way,” says Gabe. We are led to a dead end, but right above us is a large sewer grate.

I climb the ladder on the wall up to the top and slide the surprisingly heavy grate back. I pop my head out to make sure it’s clear before gesturing to the others to follow. We get out and run across an alley and into a wooded area, along the fence line. We cautiously walk through the trees, keeping our distance from the street, and a sharp eye out for federal officers roaming the grounds.

Just past the fence line, we turn into the next alley where I can see our school, which is about four blocks away from the den. I can hear heavy boot steps on the other side of the fence where we are headed, but we are too far ahead and have nowhere to hide.

I stop in the middle of the alley as three officers pull their guns on us, yelling for us to put our hands up. They are heavily armed, but with
my hands up, I’m unable to reach for my gun. One of the officers lays down his weapon to the side, pulls out a flashlight, and shines it in our direction. “They’re just kids, sir,” he says.

“What are you doing out this late in this area?” asks one of the officers.

“Our ride left us at the school, and we had no way home but on foot. Please forgive us, sir, we just want to get home,” I say.

“Take them in. We’ll put them on the bus with the others,” he says to the other officer who’s holding a gun. “Let’s see some identification first,” the officer says. I wait until the officer gets close enough so I can get a good position on the other two. I have a perfect view of all three officers now, and they are arranged in a way that I can take them all out.

“Here,” I say, pulling out my identification. Gabe’s eyes grow wide, because he knows exactly what is about to happen. I pull out one of the stealth-throwing knives and sling it directly into the officer’s eye to my right, then I quickly grab the gun from the officer in front of me and knee him in the side of the ribs. I whip his wrist around and push the barrel to the bottom of his chin. With his hand still attached to the gun, I squeeze his index finger on the trigger, blowing the side of his face clean off.

I draw my gun toward the officer who is struggling with the flashlight and trying to grip his gun at the same time. I don’t hesitate to squeeze the trigger as I shoot him square in the head. In a span of about four seconds, three more officers lie dead on the ground. I get a disturbed look from Gabe as I wipe some of the officer’s blood from my face. Because of the officer’s loud gunshots, more are sure to come. We quickly make a run for it, staying out of the alleys and along the backside of the fence near the trees, but before we make it to the other side, an officer grabs Gabe by the collar and brings him down. I jump on the fence, using the side railing as leverage, and throw myself at the officer’s back. With one quick snap, I break his neck, severing his spinal cord.

I see a shadow moving toward Niki, and I yell for her to duck. With my gun drawn, I eliminate another officer, striking him between the eyes. “Run!” I shout.

We sprint two more blocks closer to the den, weaving in and out between the trees, until we are immediately stopped by the sound of two hundred soldiers marching around the corner from the old gas station. We silently crouch down behind some bushes.

Suddenly, a hand covers my mouth and pulls me and Gabe backward to the ground.

I reach for my dagger and turn to plunge it into whoever is grabbing us, but before my hand can go forward, I stop myself. My eyes widen and glow of relief fills my face.

I withdraw my dagger and wrap my arms around a most familiar embrace. “Finnegan!” I say with jubilation.