The doors pulled open, revealing the dark, floor-level corridor where I had originally planned on leaving Delilah. Since this part of the building was not often used, the standardized power did not automatically kick on the lights here. I didn’t, either. I held my breath in the darkness, ignoring the frightening sounds and shapes I created in my mind, and took an immediate right. The utility door unlocked easily with my key. When the first breath of fresh air hit me, I felt renewed.
Yes. I could do this. I
I had to plant my heels into the asphalt to push the cart down the narrow alley. Twenty more yards to the gate station. Fifteen. Ten.
The guard at post stuck his head outside.
“Where’s the old lady?” he asked. He had a chubby face and a dimple in the center of his chin.
“Sick, I think,” I responded. I prayed no one had found her yet.
“That old bat’s never sick.”
I shrugged.
“Early this morning for that, isn’t it?”
“They did it last night.”
He pressed the button, and the gate buzzed before dragging open.
We passed through. My heart was racing. I rounded the corner and began straining up the hill. I had to keep my arms locked straight on the handlebar so that I wouldn’t topple backward.
“We did it,” I whispered giddily between labored breaths. I knew he couldn’t hear me. That was okay. He would know soon enough.
Step after step I pushed him up the hill.
Finally we reached the top. I pulled the cart off into a hidden area beside the awning and checked the driveway and hilltop for movement. We were alone.
The metal cover fell open with a clang, and Chase lifted his head.
“We did it!” I stifled a scream this time.
He didn’t smile until he’d seen for himself that the driveway was clear. After he was out, we pushed the cart over to the drop-off area at the crematorium. Behind the building was a wooded slope, which led to the subdivision and the gas station. This was where we would disappear.
“Come on.” Chase grabbed my hand.
But the skin on my neck prickled. Boots clacked across the pavement.
I spun around, my heart already leaping into my throat.
Tucker Morris was jogging up the hill, alone. It was too late to run, he had already seen us. He stopped three yards away, hands on his belt. His eyes were focused behind me, on Chase.
“So it’s true.” His voice was filled with both trepidation and disgust. “A soldier in sick bay told me you turned yourself in last night. I had to see for myself.” He laughed wryly. “The chart on the door said ‘Jennings,’ but she sure didn’t look like you.”
“Not yet,” he threatened.
It struck me as odd that Tucker hadn’t alerted the entire base to our escape, but then I realized he would likely get in trouble for it. He was trying to fix a mistake on his shift before his command found out what had happened.
Chase was still silent. Somehow, he’d placed himself between Tucker and me.
“You look surprised,” Tucker said to him. “You didn’t tell him I was here, Ember?” He used my first name just to get under Chase’s skin. He’d never called me that before.
“Don’t talk to her,” Chase growled. “Don’t even look at her.”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll finish what I started and break your other arm.”
My pulse quickened.
“You can barely stand,” scoffed Tucker. But there was a cautious light in his eye.
“So it’ll be an even fight.”
“We’re leaving,” I told Tucker flatly.
“The hell you are.”
I felt my eyes twitch. Chase took a step forward, intending to make good on his threat. I grabbed his arm.
Tucker’s tone turned from vehemence to conceit.
“Have you told him yet? About how you gave it up in my office last night?” Tucker began walking purposefully toward us.
“Nothing happened.”
He grinned. “If I’d known you were that wild I’d have busted you out of reform school, too.”
“Go,” Chase told me under his breath.
“Not a chance,” I told him fiercely.
Tucker was still approaching. I knew if we turned our backs to him he’d reach for the radio at his belt and call for assistance. I couldn’t let that happen.
Chase was leaning forward, ready to pounce. Before I took another step, Tucker whipped the baton from his hip and lunged at us. Chase moved to intercept, but there was no need: Tucker’s advance had been cut short. He was frozen, the nightstick suspended over his shoulder. Surprised by the interruption, Chase glanced back at me. His eyes changed slightly when he registered the gun in my hands.
“
The gun was light as a feather in my hands. The rush was kicking through my system. I’d aimed the gun at Delilah but never considered actually shooting her. I thought if Tucker took another step forward I might just pull the trigger.
“Tucker, please let us go.” My words were icy.
“Begging?” He spat on the ground. “You sound like your mother did. Right before I shot her.”
My world stopped.
Tucker’s words sliced through my brain. Again and again.
“You?” I asked weakly. I had assumed it was the CO that had killed her, but I was wrong. It was Tucker. That was why Chase had broken his arm. That was why Tucker had been promoted. I felt like I was going to be ill.
My blood was running cold. My mother’s killer was faceless no longer. I could see him holding the gun up, just behind Chase. See him shooting her.
“I thought you told her,” Tucker said to Chase. Chase said nothing.
“You killed her,” I said softly. My hands were wobbling.
“Ember.” I barely registered Chase saying my name.
“How could you?” Tucker was an inconceivable monster.
“I’m a damn good soldier. I did what needed to be done.”
His words hit me like a freight train.
“What needed to be done?” I repeated. The murder of an innocent woman was now necessary?
I focused on the gun. I would show him what needed to be done.
“Like you even know what to do with that,” mocked Tucker.
I glanced down, flicking the safety off.
“It’s a nine millimeter, isn’t it? I just pull back the slide, aim, and fire.”
With a steady hand I chambered the first round.
Tucker faltered, his face blotching with crimson, his mouth hard and set. I couldn’t stop the images. Tucker lifting the weapon. The sound the gun must have made when it fired. The fear in her eyes. The
