The door swung open slowly, and Katie extended her arms to set the sights of the gun right on the center of the opening. The bright light dazzled her, but she could see the outline of a large person carrying something with both hands. She belatedly realized she hadn’t checked to see if the gun was loaded, but it was far too late to worry about that now. “Don’t move!”
Before the second word was fully out of her mouth, she recognized the figure as Carson with a coffee holder. His eyes went wide with panic and he dropped down just as Katie pointed her weapon skyward. There was a pause as both reassured themselves before letting out a breath.
“Jesus!” Carson yelled. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t know where you were and when I heard the door opening, I panicked.” She checked the gun – there wasn’t even a magazine in it – and put it back on the night stand. “Are you OK?”
“Well, I might die of a heart attack,” he replied, his voice shaking. “Don’t you think we had enough gunplay last night?”
“Yeah, I wasn’t really awake. You shouldn’t have just left the room like that.”
“I tried to wake you up before I left. You barely moved. I had to hold a mirror under your mouth to make sure you were breathing,” he told her, smirking a bit as the stress of the moment wore off. “So I left you there. But you’re right, I should’ve left a note or something. Anyway,” he shook his head, “I have coffee and bagels.”
“At least you went out for a good reason,” she quipped as he set breakfast down on the small bistro table.
“How are you feeling today?” he asked as she took one of the seats.
Katie poured two small creamers into her coffee. “I’m tired, that’s for sure, and I just realized how achy I am. I hurt all over, like I lifted weights all day yesterday.”
“That happens,” Carson reassured her. “The stress of – of what you did yesterday – and the aftereffects are significant.”
Carson’s euphemism irritated Katie, although she didn’t know why. “You mean killing Brendan,” she said, forcing herself to look directly at him when she spoke. For some reason, she needed to say those exact words – and have them acknowledged – to describe the murder in its rawest form. Even though she was the one who had caused his death, it seemed dishonorable to do otherwise or cloak it in gentle terms.
“Yeah,” Carson responded. “You probably haven’t really let it sink in yet because we’re still in real danger, but once everything settles out, it will be harder. People who haven’t been in combat or situations like yesterday think PTSD is just some hippy-dippy fake thing, but they’re talking out their collective asses. It’s real, it will be hard, and you will need help to deal with it.”
Katie recognized the truth of his statement. She hadn’t given it a second thought when she aligned her sites on Brendan, and could remember neither the decision to pull the trigger, nor the noise and recoil of the shots. The first thing she remembered feeling as they jogged to the car was euphoria that her actions had saved them both.
Once in the car, however, she crashed both physically and mentally, unable to fight off the onslaught of exhaustion as they drove back to the hotel. And now, only awake a few moments, she was already thinking of the human life she’d taken, how she couldn’t undo that action, and how someone she had once cared about was gone forever by her hand. Dealing with this was going to get much harder before it got better.
“I’m sure,” she responded. “When that time comes, can I count on you to help me through it?”
“Of course.” He took a deep breath before continuing, and when he did, his voice was subdued. “You did save my life, so I think I owe you at least that in return. And I didn’t even get the chance to say ‘thank you.’”
Katie shrugged. “It was my life too. Maybe not at that moment, but sooner rather than later.”
Carson glanced off to the side, his eyes suddenly becoming wistful and depressed. “As long as I’m around, I’ll help you with anything I can.”
“’As long as you’re around?’” she repeated. “Where do you think you’re going?”
He looked back at her. Most – but not all – of the worry had disappeared from his expression. “Katie, we just don’t know how the hell this is going to turn out. It’s dangerous, and there’s no guarantees either of us will make it.”
Carson, haven’t you figured out I can tell when you’re lying to me? “You sure about that?”
“Sure about what?”
“Are you telling me everything?”
“I haven’t told you anything yet.”
“Then what the hell are you talking about?” Overloaded with stress and exhausted, Katie forgot what had initiated the exchanged as well as the point she was trying to make.
Carson clearly didn’t know either. “I’m saying I haven’t told you the plan I came up with, and it’s risky, that’s all.”
Katie knew there was more to it, but the heart of the matter, whatever it was, escaped her at the moment. “OK, then go ahead. What’s your plan?”
Carson pulled a phone from his pocket. Even though it had been wiped down, a dark-red substance filled the cracks of the device, making it Brendan’s. With an apologetic look, he opened the text messages and clicked when he found the one he wanted.
Tomorrow at MV Cape Hen. Dark 2. Bring the package. G.
Below that was a short response.
All set. B.
Katie stared at the cryptic
