Patrick collected his bullet, replaced it in the chamber, and grimaced against the pain in his shoulder. He collected the rifle from where it lay. “Come on,” he said, running with Donny and Theodore in tow, back toward the sounds of rampant artillery. He collected the blossoming truth of it all and buried it deep. After all, it was likely that by night’s end, both he and Theodore would lay dead. He’d be relieved from the knife in his middle.
She lied to you, sang a voice. Outsmarted you. You were too stupid to see it.
Patrick ran faster. He passed every familiar building like a comet.
And you can’t even kill her for it, can you? taunted the voice.
The bangs and blasts wrenched me from unconsciousness.
My neck tilted at an uncomfortable angle. A splintering pain pulsed behind my right
