Wait a minute… The assholes are hiding behind cars with full fuel tanks.
I remember the time on the highway when the dude in the speeding sports car hit the power pole and went up with a bang. Blowing things up seems an extreme reaction, but this is an extreme situation.
With my head low, I backtrack to the neighboring house. The one with the hot tub, funnily enough. My bare feet hurt for some reason, but I don’t have time to sort out shoes. The twins went out yesterday with their grandfather to collect military equipment. And if anyone is going to hold on to something they shouldn’t, it’s going to be the twins. Bless those boys.
It doesn’t even take me long to find the grenades. Because of course they’re going to leave grenades in a fruit basket on the kitchen counter. Someone really needs to have a talk to Jack and Wyatt about safe storage of munitions. My hands are shaking so bad. There’s every chance this is an awful idea. But it’s also just about myonlyidea. Should we both survive this, Dean is going to lose his shit. Completely. Like it will be a miracle if I get to pee in peace for the rest of my life.
I grab the denim jacket off the back of a kitchen chair and do up the buttons. Grenades handily fit in each of the two front pockets. Then back out onto the street I go, trying to stay calm.
The shooting doesn’t stop. Someone cackles like a mad thing. There comes a pained hollering from inside, and Trisha shouts, “George!”
No more delaying. There’s no time like the present. Time for an agitator, and that would be me. Though maybe it should be disruptor. I don’t know.
Three of Porter’s men are behind the nearest vehicle. And they’re not paying any attention to their six. Not looking my way or expecting any trouble. Nope. Which is how I’m able to pull the pin and roll the grenade underneath the car. My father would be so proud knowing the nights we went bowling when I was a child have finally come in handy.
And I can now safely say I have, in fact, run like my ass is on fire. It wasn’t many steps before the ground heaved and buckled beneath my feet. Never in my life have I heard a boom so big. Just catastrophic. Like the whole world went bang and reality tore itself in two.
But I was the only one expecting it. Which meant while everyone was still trying to figure out what had happened, I could creep up on another vehicle and use the other grenade. Four of Porter’s men are hiding behind this vehicle. Pin. Toss. Turn and run.
I made it to the neighbor’s fence. This time the boom seemed even more explosive, if possible. I also think I’m losing my hearing. The world seems strangely muted for some reason. Blowing things up, however, seems to be working. Two grenades were a great start, but I can see now that more are needed. As soon as I find my feet I am heading back to the twin’s place.
With my hearing being weird, no wonder Porter catches me by surprise. His fingers digging into my arm as he drags me tomy feet and shoves the barrel of his gun against my head. His angry mouth is moving, but I have no idea what he’s saying. Nothing complimentary about me, would be my guess. Can’t really blame him for having hurt feelings about me blowing up his men, but then it was his people who started all of this. Hopefully the grenades gave the townsfolk a chance to level the playing field.
I’d rather not die now all things considered. However, there’s no doubting I’ve done some of my best living in the last few weeks. My heart has doubled in size, and I’ve loved more than I knew I was capable of. If this is to be my ending, then it honestly doesn’t seem like such a bad one to me. To give my life for my family and friends is actually a beautiful thing.
The shining point of Dean’s thin long blade reflects the last of the sun’s rays. It’s really quite cinematic. How a flash of silver and gold cuts through the smoke and shadows.
In through the asshole’s ear it goes, and all signs of life disappear from his eyes. And the same time this is happening, Dean grips the gun pointed at my temple and tosses it aside. Guess I am not dying today after all. My guardian angel still has my back and thank fuck for that.
Porter’s body slumps to the ground, and good riddance. Makes it the perfect time for Naomi, Pedro, and Charlie to arrive with some new friends. Though the death of their beloved leader seems to have stolen the fire from the bulk of the invaders. Most of them just turn and run. Our returning friends get busy dealing with the rest of them.
“Are the children okay?” I ask.
He nods his head. Thank goodness. Dean is saying something. I can see his lips moving, but I can’t hear much of anything.
“I think my hearing is wonky from the grenades. There’s just this ringing sound.” Not sure if I’m speaking normally orshouting. It honestly could be either. “But I blew those cars up! Did you see?”
He nods.
“It was amazing. Made a bit of a mess though. We should probably keep the kids inside for a while.”
He reaches out with one of his big-ass hands and gently examines my latest facial wound. And of course he’s way more upset about it than I am.
“I said his pencil dick couldn’t compare to your man meat.” I shrug. “I know I said I wouldn’t say things that made assholes want to punch me, but…”
His lips make the required shapes for “man meat.”
“Oh, come on. You have to admit, it’s kind of funny.”
He shakes his head and wraps his arms around me, hanging on tight. And his lips are moving against my cheek. Not kissing me, but saying something over and over and over again.
“I know,” I say or yell or whatever. “I love you too.”
George sadly doesn’t survive the attack. He took a bullet to the neck defending the children in the bed-and-breakfast. The man died a hero. Trisha and the twins are devastated by the loss. I can’t imagine the pain of losing your partner of almost fifty years. They spent a lifetime together. For it to come to an end here, today, because of these assholes, makes me furious and sad.
Avan sutures a knife wound to Wyatt’s ribs, digs a bullet out of Jodi’s shoulder, and removes a wooden splinter from Leon’s eye. As for me, I sit on a sofa in the living room at the bed-and-breakfast with a cold compress on my face and a couple of bandages on my feet and arms and back. Seems I stepped on some broken glass during my adventures and took some shrapnel from the grenade blasts. Nothing too bad, luckily. But I’ll have a couple more pirate scars. Guess I didn’t feel it at thetime due to adrenaline. Reema gave me some sweats and socks to wear. There are occasions when pants just do feel necessary.
Sophie and the other children are gathered around me, watching all of the activity. They seem sort of shell-shocked and dazed after everything, which makes sense. Roger the lapdog is comforting them some. And Charlie is kindly making them some freeze-dried mac and cheese. We gave them soda to drink to keep up their sugar levels. Surges in adrenaline can mess with it, apparently. They also just deserve nice things after the horrific day.
