A grimace passed over the other man’s face, as if he had remembered something unpleasant. The smile left Jon's face. Instead of answering Shayne’s question, he grabbed their bags and loaded them up.
Returning, he held out a pink wig and explained, “Arch insisted we wear these. This one is yours.”
Shayne looked at the pink wig in Jon's hand in horror.
“Boy, it just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?” He shot a glare at Jon before turning to carry Anna up the metal steps. He was relieved to see a cot had been made up and secured inside the back. The truck was a decoy, an Arch original. He gently placed Anna on the bed.
When Shayne returned to the front, Jon was in the driver’s seat. The closed door blocked out some of the horrid music. “We need to get out of here ASAP,” he muttered to Jon. “And turn off that damned music. You can fill me in on the situation here in Vegas as you drive.”
The pink wig hit him in the chest. “We’re not going anywhere until that’s on,” Jon retorted, with a smirk. “Boss’s orders.”
Shayne gave him a long, lethal look that promised all kinds of retribution before reluctantly sliding the pink wig on his head. He silently vowed to make Arch pay for his suffering and torment. Then he faced the windshield and gripped the long metal pole that run from floor to ceiling, as he resigned himself to what he expected to be the ride from hell.
As Jon pulled out, he added in a cheerful voice, “By the way, there isn’t any way to turn off the music. The knob is broken.”
ANNA STRETCHED, SLOWLY coming back to consciousness. The bed was amazingly soft, so much so she hated to wake up. After opening her eyes, she took in the bedroom she was in. It was huge and comfortable, complete with a roaring fireplace.
For the first time in a long time, Anna felt good. She was warm, safe, and the clean sheets felt nice against her skin. Lifting her hand to her head, she realized the knot was almost gone. It was amazing what a good night’s sleep could do for your health and disposition, she mused, tempted to close her eyes and go back to sleep.
A small sound to her right disturbed her. Turning her head, Anna jumped when she realized Shayne was in the room with her. His blue eyes rested softly on her face, as if he studied her. It took her a moment to realize he had circles underneath his eyes. He looked exhausted.
“How do you feel?” he asked in a low voice, as he stretched.
“Great, actually,” she responded. “What are you doing here?”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You were out for two days, Anna. A doctor came and confirmed you have a concussion.” He looked past her, his brows drawn together in thought. “You needed someone to sit with you, and that’s what I did. It would have been dangerous to leave you alone.”
She was shocked to hear she’d lost two days. That would explain why she felt so rested. “You should get some rest yourself,” she said, slightly concerned at his appearance. He had a haunted look in his eyes that hadn’t been there two nights before. “By the way, you’re not looking so well.”
He waved off her concern, then asked, “Do you remember the night we got here?”
She gave him a puzzled look. “It’s hazy but yeah. Why?”
“After we got you loaded up in the truck, we were about halfway here when Jon circled through the park. We had gotten word that a demon was going to attack during a charity football game, and the idea was for us to be a distraction to save the kids he targeted.” He looked down at the ground and said quietly, “At the last moment, the demon went for someone in the field instead of the bystanders. We saved several but lost one, and one is too many in my book.”
Her eyes welled up in tears of sympathy for Shayne and the unknown child who had lost his life. “You did your best,” she said, in a gentle tone of voice. “I know that probably doesn’t help much, but at least you’re out there trying. Think about how many people you've saved, me included. You’re not responsible for the evil thoughts and actions from someone else.”
Shayne turned his head to stare at the fireplace. “It’s only going to get worse with Armageddon. In a few short years, that boy would have been grown. Who knows what he might have been destined for. One day, he might have been a strong fighter. He might have saved a lot of lives in the war that's coming. He won’t get that chance now, and neither will the people he might have saved.”
Anna sat speechless, unable to think of a single word to say. Someone knocked on the bedroom door, saving her from a response.
Shayne jumped up and explained over his shoulder, “I ordered food for you a few minutes ago, when I saw you were starting to wake up. After you eat, the doctor can examine you again.”
At the door, he hesitated, with his hand on the knob. However, he didn’t turn around. “I’m glad you’re feeling better,” he added, in a kind voice. Then he opened the door and stood to the side.
A middle-aged man pushed a cart into the room. Its surface was filled with an assortment of silver bowls and lids. “I see our guest is up,” he said, in a cheerful manner. “My name is Edward. I’m basically the right-hand man around here.” He gave her a big grin as he rolled the cart up to the bed. “If you need anything, I’m your guy.”
“Edward will
