5: Sarah

Sarah

 

 

          The searchlight flickered by, illuminating the street and grass in a bright circle of radiance that moved gracefully by. The chopping whirl of the helicopter's routers hung above them. As the aircraft continued along its course, the sound grew thicker and more thunderous. The chopper's hull was a sea-gray with black stenciled writing along the tail. The search lamp mounted on the underside pivoted and panned, casting its revealing light through the mostly deserted streets of Merritt Island.

          Her lungs began to feel tight, and quietly she released her breath that she had hardly realized she was holding. She watched the shadows grow in the street before shrinking back immensely in the harsh white light. It was almost directly overhead now. She could do nothing now but wait. Sarah was crouched under a large awning at the front of a house they had recently searched. The light passed harmlessly by and continued on, oblivious to the presence of the four Americans who hid. The whirling hum faded off into obscurity in the distance. She stood, feeling the sheltering embrace of darkness once more. What had been her enemy was now a loving friend.

          At her side the hard plastic smacked against the denim of her jeans. Her waistband listed slightly on her right from the weight of the large knife. She felt stronger with it at her side, more confident. The blade had already claimed one life at her hand, but she didn't allow herself to think much on it. Not yet.

          Michael needed them to be focused. Their search of two houses so far had yielded little more a few Ace bandages and painkillers. A knot of nerves had nestled into her gut and refused to leave. With every minute she was more conscious of the clock and their race against it. Their friend was bleeding heavily and she knew he would slip into shock from blood loss if they didn't get back quickly.

          "Ryan," she said in little more than a whisper. "Do you and Miguel want to go check that house," she pointed to a home across the road, "and Emma and I will get this next one?"

          He gave a flicker of doubt. "We'll be fine," Sarah assured him with a small pat on the bayonet. In response, Ryan clicked the safety off Michael's Beretta.

          "Alright, meet back here in five with or without the gauze? We don't have a lot of time."

          "I agree. Five minutes. See you in a few." Sarah took off across the yard with Emma in tow as the two males hurried across the street to the other house. Their own target house was fairly small with chipping paint on the exterior and shingles in disarray. The yard was pockmarked in splotches of dead or dying grass, and the sidewalk trail leading to the front door was cracked and uneven. Sarah frowned. "Next house?" she suggested.

          "Next one," Emma agreed. The continued down the road, their footfalls the only immediate noise, and came to a more likely candidate. The house they stopped in front of was larger and in better repair. The windows weren't caked in dust and grime and a few children's toys lay forgotten in the front yard. The sound of the helicopter flared and both girls turned anxiously but the sound faded once more before vanishing. Sarah approached the front door, her fingers wrapped around the hard grip of the sturdy weapon. With her other hand she tested the doorknob. It gave only half an inch before stopping stubbornly. She tried the other direction with equal results.

          "Locked. D****t."

          Emma shook her head. "No, I've got an idea." She jogged off to the adjacent yard and stooped to lift a half-broken cinderblock. At a slower pace she returned toting the hunk of stone. "Look out," she warned before heaving it through the front window. The glass burst explosively and the shattering crash broke all stillness in the night around them. Sarah turned to her friend incredulously; Emma had never done anything even remotely like this, she was afraid to get bad grades on homework assignments.

          "We don't have time to ask politely," the younger girl replied to Sarah's look of disbelief. They took off their shoes and placed them on their hands, using the hardened grip to brush away most of the glass from the windowsill. Once their shoes were back on their feet, another minute had vanished. "Quick, but don't get cut," Sarah urged as Emma carefully swung a leg over the windowsill. Once she was in, Sarah followed suit. Cold and jagged bits of glass teased at the flesh of her palms as she held the windowsill for support, easing her body inside. More glass tinkled softly as it fell.

          "I'll check the master bedroom if you want to check the regular bathroom." Sarah deliberately placed her steps as she navigated this stranger's home. The master bedroom was almost directly across from the main entrance. The door was slightly open and the house was still, but she unsheathed the bayonet all the same. She paused as the door, listened, and nudged it open when she heard nothing. Curtains draped the two windows in the room, shielding almost all of the light from the full moon outside. Still cautious, Sarah moved to the curtains and pulled them back. Once she had more light, she entered into the tiny bathroom. The darkness was nearly solid but she didn't have much to search and she knew what she was looking for. The mirror on the wall above the sink pulled open revealing a medicine cabinet. Blindly she felt along the shelves for anything of use. There were bottles and cylindrical prescription containers but no heavy bandages, but she had hardly expected to find them in that cabinet. Next she began rummaging through the two drawers under the sink. She felt Q-tips, a few typical boxes, and a round disk in a rectangular package she assumed was a condom. Her frustration was building. The next drawer down offered more. The first thing she felt was a large rectangular box made of plastic with a snap latch on the front.

          She sidestepped from the bathroom and the pale light in the bedroom confirmed it. "Emma, I got a first aid kit," she called out, heading back out the way she came.

          Emma was already at the window, her figure bathed in moonlight. "We need to go," she said urgently. "Right now. Come on, Sarah hurry." She gestured with the wave of her hand. Sarah tried to run through the living room but clipped her shin on a hard wooden arm of a chair and grunted. With a dull pain blooming in her thigh, she reached the window where Emma was already clambering out. "Ah, s**t," she whispered as Sarah was climbing through the broken window. "Got me." Emma held up a finger that had begun to well a dark tear of blood.

          "You're in better shape than Michael at least. Why the rush?"

                                  Emma pointed down the road where an armored vehicle with massive tires had come to a halt and soldiers were milling around near the rear of it. Sarah stared at the vehicle for a moment before moving quietly away from the house. She wasn't particularly concerned, as the soldiers seemed focused with other tasks and hadn't so much as looked toward them.

          Steadily the girls melted into the shadows and silently stepped away. Once they had made it to the shelter of a large palm frond shrub, the two turned their backs to the soldiers and began running. They passed the Rodriguez' home without so much as a sideways glance. The two storied house where they had brought Michael had a small light flickering from somewhere within. Had someone been home? They brought him to this house as opposed to just carrying him inside the Rodriguez's in case a search party came looking and discovered their dead comrade.

          Sarah slowed as she neared the front door which had been flung open and never shut. She pressed her back to the wall and craned her neck to see inside. Miguel and Ryan stood with their backs to her a few feet from the entrance. They seemed completely oblivious to the arrival of the other search team. Hesitantly Sarah walked inside. "We're back," she announced awkwardly. "You guys left the door wide open." The other two didn't seem to hear her properly. She pushed the front door closed and bolted the lock once Emma was in then stood next to Ryan. "You okay?"

          "It's not me that you need to ask," he said, his voice shaky. She had no idea what he was talking about. She was about to ask another question when Ryan's hand pressed against her cheek and turned her to face the couch in the living room.

          Sarah's heart gave way, dropping into her stomach. She tried to speak but only a confused mutter escaped her lips.

          The couch cushions were soaked through with dark stains of blood and a few stray pools and splatters had smeared along the hardwood floor. Their friend lay on his side facing away from them, his face buried in the back cushions. Sabrina sat in a dining room chair next to the couch with a face as pale as Michael's skin as she scratched his head lightly. The stranger they had met stood beside the couch, her hand on his shoulder, covering most of the tattoo. Despite all the blood, he was no longer bleeding. What had once been a golfball sized ruin of tattered flesh and broken bone was a sunken crater of stretched and shiny skin that was almost transparent. Vessels traced through it in an almost fluorescent branches. The blood smeared on his back was congealing and turning black-brown with no fresh fluid to soften it. Sarah took a step forward, her lips slightly parted in awe. As she grew closer she could see the injured body's ribcage was rising so slightly before falling.

          He was alive.

          She let out a small whimper that could have been terror or relief, perhaps both. "How?" Sarah asked softly to Sabrina, who could only shake her head without answer. In the small orange glow of the candle being held by the stranger, the room seemed strangely comfortable. It was reassuring in a way.

          "He needs fluids in his body to replenish the blood he lost. He's still incredibly weak." The girl none of them knew traced her fingers down Michael's back. "Because his shoulder blade was destroyed, the fragments severed several more vessels than the bullet itself would have, which is why he bled so heavily." No one responded to her. She looked up and for the first time Sarah saw her features. She was incredibly beautiful, her skin soft and without blemish. Although not particularly tall, she had rounded hips and a thin waist with breasts that weren't large but firm against her shirt. Her hair was a dark brown that was tied back in a pony tail. Underneath her eyes she had shadows of exhaustion, but her eyes themselves were a bright Arctic blue that were a deep as pools. She couldn't have been more than eighteen.

          "Who are you?" Sarah asked softly.

          "Arianna. I'm sure you all have questions, but now isn't the best time. Could one of you please get a glass of juice for him? Gatorade or orange juice, but if there isn't any water will have to do." She sat on the edge of the couch and gently roused Michael.

          "I'll get the juice," Ryan said, his eyes lingering on the girl for a moment before he turned for the kitchen.

          "Careful," Sabrina called out after him. "I accidentally dropped a glass jar over there somewhere."

          Michael coughed and winced as he was rolled delicately onto his back. A thin foam of saliva and blood trickled from his lips which were stained crimson and stood in stark contrast to his ghostly face. His eyes fluttered open, dim but aware. They scanned the room slowly and came to rest on his friends who had timidly come closer.

          "How you feel, buddy?" Miguel asked almost cautiously.

          Michael's lips twitched into a smile. "I feel great. What's wrong with you guys? You look like you've all seen a ghost or something. Don't look at me like I'm a corpse, makes me feel weird." He was able to manage a small laugh. The others relaxed a little and smiled back at him.

          "Glad you're awake," Emma told him. "They got me, too." She help up her bloodied finger where the glass had nicked her.

          Michael let out another small laugh. "Those sons of b*****s." But his smile quickly faded. "What happened to the Rodriguez's? I haven't seen any of them. I know Levi is somewhere in this house."

          "Upstairs," Levi's voice confirmed from the second floor. "Trying to find you some clothes."

          Ryan reappeared with a glass of juice in his hand, though it was hard to say what kind with the minimal lighting. The girl named Arianna took it and helped Michael into a sitting position, allowing him to lean against her. Very slowly she raised the glass to his lips and let him drink.

          "I'm feeling a little better. I think I can hold the cup, that way you don't feel like your babysitting," he said. Nodding, the girl allowed him to hold the cup but when he tried to raise it his hand began quivering harshly. They compromised in allowing him to hold the glass but she helped him raise it to drink. After a few sips he looked back at his friends, his green eyes seeming to regain a little life.

          "No one answered my question," he said firmly. Sarah felt nervous pangs in her chest, though she knew she had nothing to feel guilty for. Even so, she felt like Michael would be upset to learn the Rodriguez' had fled. Everyone else remained equally silent. Sarah's fingers played nervously with the hilt of the bayonet.

          "They left," she said after the silence began to suffocate them. "When you...got hit, Mr. and Mrs. Rodriguez grabbed Jake and Addison and left. I didn't see where to, I was distracted."

          Michael pondered for a moment then nodded. "What else happened? I remember paratroopers and the causeways being destroyed, but after I got shot, it's all hazy."

          Emma spoke next. "You and Ryan both ran for a soldier who got tangled in his parachute. Which was incredibly stupid, might I add, but you both jumped on him. I think he punched you but it all happened so quickly. Suddenly there was a gun in your face." She paused and looked down for a moment before bringing her eyes back up. "Sarah was there the next second, and she grabbed your hand with the knife in it and threw all of her weight into against the man's throat. But the gun still went off and you fell backwards off him. We all thought," her words choked, "we all thought we had just watched you get killed."

          There was a swift knock against the front door that scared Sarah near to tears. They all turned quickly and stared apprehensively at the door. The knock came again and Levi rushed down the stairs with a pistol in his hand aimed toward the front entrance. He had taken the dead Russian's sidearm in case any one had showed up at the house they intended to use as a safe haven.

          "Is anyone in there? Please?" came a panicked voice from outside. It was in English and had no traces of foreign accent. Miguel peaked out the front window slowly before shouting and rushing to unlock the door. He pulled it open and Jake Rodriguez hurried inside, nearly bowling Miguel over.

          "Jake!" Emma yelled out and ran to hug him. Sarah was surprised, but if anyone would be stubborn enough to return it would have been Jake. The tall boy leaned over, clearly out of breath.

          "Why'd you come back?" Ryan asked, peering out the window now.

          "My mom couldn't make it. We were hardly moving at all, so I had to come see what happened." He looked up and saw the bloodied couch. "S**t, who died?"

          "Good to see you, too," Michael said, his voice scratchy and raw.

          "Holy s**t!" Jake made his way to the couch. "You're alive? Michael, I saw you get shot!"

          With a grim smile, he gestured to the couch. "He got me too. Though, thankfully not in the head. I believe I have Sarah to thank for that."

          Sarah shook her head, not wanting to be recognized for acting on instinct. She only pushed the knife down, it was already at the man's neck. It wasn't like she was a hero or anything. "It's not something to be proud of. You still got shot. I should have pushed the gun away."

          "No," Michael countered, his voice serious. "You killed a Russian paratrooper and saved my life. Don't you ever try to downplay it, particularly to me. I know what I owe you."

         Sarah went to him and bent down giving him the best hug she could without touching his back. "What are friends for," she said in a light tone, though she still felt as if she had perhaps made things worse.

          "How'd you find us, Jake?" Ryan asked, still glancing outside.

          "There were soldiers in the streets. And a Stryker or something. Well a Russian Stryker, you guys know what I mean. It's on South Trop. When I saw them I wanted to get inside and saw the candlelight, so I was hoping someone was inside."

          Levi frowned, clicking the Russian pistol's safety back on. "We might want to put that candle out then. If Jake saw it, then the Russians will too."

          Arianna brushed her fingers over the candle and pinched the wick, extinguishing the small flame and scant light they had. Darkness once more engulfed them. Glass popped and scraped against the floor as Miguel went to the kitchen. Sarah and Ryan followed. Their two backpacks full of supplies were set on the counter. Sarah opened the fridge which had begun to grow warm. She saw a few bottled waters. She placed three on the counter by the bags and opened one for herself. The cool liquid was refreshing. She swished it about in her mouth before swallowing.

          "Well, South Tropical isn't going to be easy to cross anymore if they have armored vehicles on it," Ryan mentioned with concern.

          "I'd say our best bet is to go now, though." Miguel looked out the kitchen window. "There may be a lot more coming and we don't want to end up here when it's too late. One patrol isn't too bad. We can move a few streets down and cross. Stay along the river bank. Look for a boat."

          Sarah was inclined to agree. If this was a landing zone for the Russians, the initial wave would be far from the last of the troops. They would want to gain as large and fortified as a foothold as they could, and an island without bridges would serve well to make an extremely difficult region for American ground forces to retake. They needed to leave soon before they had no hope of escaping. There was one thing that was stopping them from being able to pick up and go at that moment, though. "I think we need to leave soon, but what about Michael? He's too weak to make that trip."

          "We'll figure something out," Ryan said. "Don't worry, we won't leave him. We'll build a litter if we have to and carry him."

           A helicopter hummed in the distance. "Whatever we do, we don't have much time," Sarah warned. "It'd be nice if we had some firepower, too. All we have are two pistols and a few knives."

          Miguel shrugged. "Ryan and I looked around for an AK-Forty-Seven but couldn't find one. My guess is it got stuck on the roof when he got tangled up. So yeah, we just have the pistols."

          "And one less round in the Russian one," Ryan muttered darkly. "But it'll have to do. I say we go now. Grab everything we can and go."

          "Yeah, let's get out of here. I want to find my parents and sister, but at this point I'd probably do more harm than good if I stayed to look. I have to hope they had better luck than we did." Miguel grabbed one of the backpacks and slid the straps over his shoulders. "Let's go before any of us can really start having doubts."

          A still had taken the atmosphere in the living room. Everyone was nervous, it was almost visible in the very air. Michael's eyes were shut and his chest rose slowly as Sabrina scratched at his head. Jake sat across from Sabrina but neither of them spoke. Ryan went to Sabrina, who rose and hugged him and began to sob into his chest. It had all just hit her, Sarah knew as she saw the other girl's red and swollen eyes, an entire realization at once with the brunt force of a train. Feeling an anxious edge in her nerves, Sarah went to the window to peer out and think. She pried the blinds apart with two fingers and almost screamed.

          Outside the armored vehicle was on the move down the street. The massive troop carrier had eight wheels and a squat turret mounted in the center. The sharp edges of the steel made the troop carrier all the more imposing. She had seen it before, perhaps in a video game or movie, but she thought it was a BTM. Or was it BTR? She wasn't sure. It had always just something that exploded when fighting Russians in a fake digital world. But here it was very real. Here it was powerful. The engine revved and sputtered, but the sound was muffled. The turret rotated, the cannon flanked by two sets of smoke grenade launchers that looked like bits of honeycomb protruding out at a slight angle. It was the most intimidating thing Sarah had ever seen.

          "F**k," she breathed. "No, no, no." She stood frozen as she watched the vehicle screech to a halt. The turret continued to spin slowly, scanning the streets. A low hydraulic hum coupled with a hatch along the side of the armored personnel carrier opening. Troops began to hop out with no real sense of urgency. A few began speaking and a searchlight that had been attached to the top of the vehicle blazed on, blinding Sarah as it swept across the house in a three-sixty rotation. She could see in the new light that these soldiers weren't clad in full black like those who had first parachuted in. They wore an olive drab splintered with yellow and carried woodland camo equipment and pouches. No masks covered their faces but a few did have paint smeared in dark colors across their cheeks, chin, and forehead. She wondered if these were regular soldiers within the Russian army. It was better than the black-adorned forces, but they still made her very uncomfortable.

          "What's up, Sarah?" Jake asked.

          "They're right outside. We should leave, it doesn't look like they're going anywhere anytime soon." She let the two blinds fall back into place with a rippling snap. Bright beams of white light came in horizontal planes as the searchlight passed over the blinds once more.

          "Michael, wake up, buddy." Miguel nudged his friend on the leg. Michael's eyes tittered open, and he winced slightly. "We've got to find a new house. Or get to the river."

          Sarah watched curiously as Michael attempted to stand on his own strength. His movements were equal parts slow and clumsy. He managed to stay upright, but movement proved difficult, and he swooned drunkenly. Miguel wrapped an arm across his shoulders which invoked a guttural groan from the one he was helping. Slowly, they hobbled toward the back door. The others began to gather the supplies they had accumulated. Sarah went to the foot of the staircase. "Levi, we're leaving."

          "Alright, I'm coming."

           For one last look, Sarah returned to the front window and bent down a blind with a finger. The armored vehicle was still in the center of the street, but the soldiers had split into groups of two and were fanning out. Two were coming up the sidewalk to the house where the Americans hid. Sarah hurried to the front door and ensured the deadbolt and knob lock were secure before running across the house, careful to avoid the dark outlines of furniture. "They're here," she whispered. "We can make it if we get to the back yard."

          The doorknob turned and clicked inquiringly. There was a muffled voice outside the door. Levi hurried down the stairs, ignorant of the intruders. Each of his footfalls on the steps resonated deeply. The voices outside grew more aggressive and the gentle turns of the knob gave way to fierce pounds as boots collided into the door. Sarah desperately put her finger to her lips at Levi who frowned deeply, but it was too late. She knew the soldiers had heard. The door thudded again, heavy and hard but the wood held.

          She turned to join the others at the other side of the house but Miguel was hobbling back towards the center, leading Michael who supported himself wearily with an arm around his shoulders. She opened her mouth to ask but the Dominican shook his head. "They're out in the back, too. We may be trapped."

          Levi clicked off the pistol's safety and slowly stepped away from the front entry. His hands trembled slightly. Another kick sent a lightning bolt shaped crack splitting up the doorframe. The voices were calling out to others. Sarah's heart was near to bursting. She tried to think of possible escape routes, but nothing came to mind.

          There were more footsteps on the stairs. Jake and Miguel were half-carrying Michael up. Emma stood at the foot of the stairs anxiously, throwing Sarah a look of uncertainty and fear. She nodded to her friend, not entirely sure what use hiding up in the second floor would be, but if it offered some glimmer of hope, perhaps that was a better way to face death.

          Crack.

          The split along the doorframe burst and sent bits of jagged splinters out in a small cloud but the bolt remained sure. It wouldn't for long, though. Sarah knew that easily enough. Ryan started up the steps. "Sarah," he called out. "You coming?"

          "Yeah," she said, pulling the bayonet from its sheath and taking cautious steps backwards. Levi looked at her and shook his head.

          "There's no reason to go up there. If anything we should try to -"

          Crack.

          The frame couldn't take another hit.

          Jake and Miguel hurried back down to the ground floor, their faces wrought in apprehension. Both of their mouths were thin and pursed, their eyes glazed.

          "They're about to get in," Sarah warned.

          Glass burst and she screamed, dropping the knife and falling to her knees as a window shattered inwards. Fragments dropped down like rain in the entryway. Another hail of bullets decimated the other windows. Miguel and Jake jumped to the ground and Levi crouched while covering his head. "Michael can't make it, Ryan wants to carry him but they need someone else to grab the backpack," Miguel shouted to Sarah. "Jake, Levi, Emma and I will distract them. You guys get Michael out as soon as we do!"

          There was a loud pop from somewhere above her; she covered her ears and she screamed again. Levi had fired a round at a figure who had appeared in the window. Whether he had been on target or not, she didn't have time to figure out. Clumsily she scrambled to her feet and clutched for the handle of the bayonet. Her movements felt slow and uncoordinated, building a frustration that began to seethe into her. Once she had it in her grip, she darted up the steps two at a time as a hail of gunfire answered Levi's solitary shot. Sarah fell, slamming her knee into the corner of the steps. She cursed loudly and squeezed her eyes shut as a cloud of smoke and debris erupted from within the home. Everyone was on their belly, covering their faces. Miguel and Jake were making their way towards Levi and Sabrina who had crawled out from behind the couch. Arianna leapt over it  and ran, her movements fluid and swift until she reached the stairs and urged Sarah and Sabrina forward. Together the three ascended to the second floor.

          A few more pistol shots sounded in tandem with the shattering of the doorframe and subsequent clatter of ruined wood. Levi was shouting something desperately and Miguel responded, but Sarah couldn't make out the words, but knew the door was gone. She turned back as she reached the landing. Miguel waited at the foot of the stairs, out of breath and coughing.

          "There's an awning in the back," he half shouted. "Go out the window onto it, and jump into the yard. We'll meet you there!"

          "Got it, go!" she shouted back. With that he disappeared. Two swinging beams of light fell into the lower floor within seconds. In their radiance clouds of debris and dust swirled and descended. Sarah watched silently as two soldiers with flashlights attached under the barrels of their rifles scanned the room below. If she had a little luck left, they would forgo searching the second story for now. There was still time.

          Quietly she eased away from the staircase and toward the others. She felt as though every footstep yearned to betray her and that the slightest sounds were already gathering suspicions from the enemy below. The second floor of the house was one large room that was unfurnished with the exception of a single dresser and mattress that was propped against the wall. A few boxes with painting supplies occupied the far corner. There was no cover. No where to hide. Staying here was suicidal.

          Michael was sitting and leaning against the wall beneath the back window. The white drywall beside him was smeared with streaks of drying blood. Ryan knelt beside him pressing a water bottle carefully to his lips, urging him to drink in a voice that was barely audible.

          Sabrina began undoing the dual flip-locks on the top of the sliding window pane.

          "Get him up," Sarah commanded softly but with urgency. "We're going out the window. Try not to make much noise getting that thing up," she said, looking at the window pane.

          Sarah listened carefully as Arianna and Ryan each wrapped one of Michael's arms around their shoulders and hoisted him from the ground. She could see the pain etched clearly on his face as his left shoulder was moved, but he made no sounds. Clunking and slow, Sabrina eventually did slide the window up. She wrestled a bug screen from the frame, snapping the plastic and twisting the mesh. Once it was out, Ryan looked down for Miguel in the backyard but it was empty.

          "Did they leave already?" he asked. Sarah could only shake her head and shrug. She prayed they hadn't, but she wouldn't be able to blame them if they had.

          "Stairs," Michael mumbled in a half-broken voice. Sarah turned quickly to see a flashlight beam scanning near the staircase. Her grip around the bayonet tightened and she took in slow deep breaths. She had already killed a man, she could do it again. The light drew closer to the stairs, painting the walls as it flicked about. Then a helmeted head came into view and Sarah became very weak at the knees. She tried to will herself to feel strong and fearless, but she couldn't. Her hands shook, and tears began to well up in her eyes. No! she tried to tell herself, but it did not good. She didn't want this. Didn't ask for this. None of them had.

          The bottom stair creaked as heavy boots stepped onto it. Ryan began fumbling for the pistol he had secured awkwardly in his pants. The boots came closer, each step resounding.

          Sarah looked to the window, then back to the staircase. The soldier's flashlight was on the wall, flashing across hung pictures of the family that had lived here. He then turned it to towards the second floor and the light spilled over all of them. The man nearly fell back in surprise, but almost instantly regained his composure and began shouting out frantically. His calls were short-lived. The soldier's head whipped sideways against the wall, splattering blood and bits of brain matter over the photographs, before the body slumped and fell backwards limply.

          "Get out of there!" It was Levi, Sarah realized with a mixture of relief and sadness. He had stayed back, he had saved them. More voices began crying out in Russian and gunfire began rattling the house. The back door slammed shut and she watched from the window as Levi deftly leapt the fence. "Meet us out here!" he shouted before disappearing into the night. Three soldiers pursued, but their gear weighed them down. A few men still remained in the house, their voices quiet. Ryan and Arianna set Michael back down against the wall. Slowly Ryan approached the staircase, the pistol drawn and ready. He peaked around the wall. As he did, a hail of gunfire ripped apart the material. Blindly Ryan shot three shots back down the staircase before rushing to the back of the large second floor room. The sound had been deafening, but the silence that followed was more painful. Bits of drywall and wood piled on the floor and gun smoke hung acridly. Sarah coughed and rubbed at her eyes.

          "How many were there?" she asked to Ryan.

          He shook his head. "No idea. Maybe a couple. If we can get rid of them we may have a shot."

           Sarah agreed. She was terrified, but she wanted to survive. They could fight their way out of this.

          A dull thud resonated from the center of the room. All eyes turned toward it and Sarah instantly felt helpless. All the thoughts, the dreams of fighting out of this and somehow making it out alive vanished like smoke. A black hand grenade rolled to a halt on the carpet, the matte metal dull in the moonlight. Without a moment's pause, Ryan leapt on top of it. Michael collapsed onto his stomach next to his friend. Weeping shamelessly, Sabrina fell to her knees and placed her hands on Michael's and Ryan's.

           She was sorry. Sorry she hadn't been able to experience all she wanted to. Sorry for everyone she may have wronged. Sorry for all the wasted time she would never get back. With tears stinging her eyes, Sarah Mason fell to the ground and grabbed for her friends' hands. She could feel the warmth of Ryan and Sabrina who had let out a muffled sob, the cool skin of Michael.

          A sense of calmness radiated from Arianna, who was the last to touch them. Her hands were warm and reassuring.

          I love you guys. She thought as she lay with some of the best friends she'd ever known and those she had just made. It was comforting to have them.

          Here at the end of all things.