TEASER (EXPLOSION & SEARCH SCENE)
A roar like two jet planes crashing into each other rattled the air. The building shook. Pete’s front window shattered. Bits of glass prickled her skin. She reactively flung her arm across her face and turned away. She turned back as the rain of glass pinged onto the floor. Fluorescent orange and red flames roared into the sky from the rubble of what used to be her office. Used to be the adjoining tattoo parlor.
Pete inched up from behind the wooden counter, holding his arm where an ominous chunk of wood was lodged. His wife ran from the back room to help her husband.
“You okay, Marcy?” he shouted.
She nodded, picked up the two empty cups of root beer from the floor, and shivered. Shivered again harder. Her face grew clammy. The cups fell from her hands. Numb and on autopilot, she stumbled toward the scene. Toward what used to be her front door.
JB’s truck did a one-eighty as it screeched to a stop, and he bolted for the shifting mass of destruction. The sight of him running straight toward the dust-settling pile of rubble shook her back to the moment.
“Marcy! Where are you?” He raced across the debris as if he didn’t see or hear or feel the heat while he side-stepped the spot fires. “Marcy? Marcy!”
“Nooooo, JB!” She charged after him across the shattered bricks, the shards of glass, the chunks of asphalt and concrete littering the street. “Stop! I’m here. I’m here!”
He disappeared into the section of her office that was still standing. A moment later, a second blast rocked her world.
***
JB barreled toward the flames. “Marcy!”
His lungs filled with the acrid smoke, choking his senses. Heat crushed his movements as it singed the hair on his arms. And the few angry, lingering flames beckoned him to test his strength. Resolve pressed him forward.
Find her. Find her. Don’t stop, find her.
A secondary explosion blew on the far side of the building. He flattened to the ground, covering his head with his arms. A rain of fragments dropped down. A couple of larger chunks found him as a target. No chance. There was no chance Marcy might have survived the second bomb.
His heart broke. His agonizing shouts mixed with the hiss and crackle of the settling debris. He stumbled to retrace his steps.
Sirens screamed closer. Blue sky merged with murky heat waves. Burning coughs racked his lungs. He collapsed to his knees in the debris. Marcy was gone. Enfolding his head with his arms, he rocked back and forth.
Make this a dream. A nightmare. Please, dear God, make this a dream.
Soft hands grabbed his and pulled. Stronger hands lifted his feet, others supported his middle. Voices merged in the background for a stretcher and medic. And someone pounded the smoldering material on his legs as he was placed on the cart. Within seconds, the stretcher jerked being slid into the ambulance, then a plastic mask was placed over his mouth and nose.
Oxygen.
“No! Leave me alone.” He shoved the lifesaving air aside again and again while his lungs fought to suck deep, racking breaths. Exhausted, he pushed against the fingers stroking his forehead. “Leave me alone.”
“It’s Marcy. JB listen to me.”
Softness against his cheek.
“I’m okay. Look at me, I’m okay.”
He pushed the mask aside. Marcy?
A kiss, then another, then another. His tongue licked the salty wetness that caressed his lips. The fog of his mind craved the feelings flooding through the break. He’d do anything if she were alive. Quit law enforcement. Move back to Crayton. Anything. Even leave her alone if that’s what she wanted.
“Look at me, JB. I’m okay.” Her voice cracked as the hand holding his trembled. Sucking in the clean air, he fought to open his eyes. “Marcy?”
She nodded, curling her fingers through his hair. Tears flooded across her soot-covered face, joining his as she burrowed her cheek against his.
“I thought I’d lost you.” He pulled her against his chest as the ambulance doors closed behind them.
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