Brightside, Mark Tullius [philippa perry book .TXT] 📗

THE WALK TO THE OFFICE is freezing because the sun is about to set. I’m wearing headphones, but my iPod is turned off. I’m just silently talking to Sara as we move down the street. Most people are at work or locked away in their apartments. Wayne has set everyone on edge.

The building where I work has a small crowd out front, but I don’t see any Boots. Neither Sara nor I know how many people heard she’s being sent to the Cabin, but we can’t take any chances. I have to go in alone. We keep our distance and switch up the plan. It’s better this way, because Sara needs to draw the helicopter to me.

She slips off through the Square. I watch her and have the fear this might be the last time I ever see her. I want to chase her down, tell her how sorry I am she got pulled into this, but again, it’s not going to help me do what I have to do. I flick on my iPod, crank it as loud as it can go before entering the building. There are a few people getting into the elevator so I take the east stairs. The shotgun pieces clang around in my backpack as I climb. Luckily, no one is in the stairwell, though, I sort of wish there were. I want someone to catch me, to make me go back to my apartment. The Cabin doesn’t seem like such an awful outcome right now.

My hand goes to the door handle, but I can’t open it. It’s not locked, I’m just freaking out. I keep thinking about how I almost plummeted off the side. Sara had to pull me up to save my life.

I’m leaning against the wall and I can feel the sweat soaking through my clothes, which doesn’t feel all that bad because it’s so fucking hot here in the stairwell. I decide to put the shotgun together. If the helicopter flies over while I’m assembling it, they’ll kill me.

Sara also needs time to get to the Boots. She’s supposed to say Wayne is in this building. I told her to keep her distance to let others spread the word, but I know she’s not going to risk Danny to save herself. I just hope they don’t recognize her before they head this way.

The barrel clicks, and I pull out the shells. Slide two in. I have another dozen in the backpack, but I’ll never get the chance to reload. It’s one shot.

The Mossberg is in my hands, and I keep thinking about Rachel. If someone were to see me, I don’t know what I’d do. I guess I’d have to shoot, but that’s only going to alert the Boots, the helicopter, and the gunner.

I suddenly realize this plan’s already fucked. Sara’s going to tell them Wayne’s here, meaning they’ll already be looking to kill him, meaning as soon as they see I’m armed, I’m dead.

I’m starting to think this really is all a setup. Melvin could get a hell of a lot closer to the helicopter than me. But Sharon said I was the only one for the job.

They’re probably already at the cave escaping, while I’m up here like an idiot holding a shotgun that will draw all the attention.

I’m hating my father right now for trusting that lying bitch, for giving me a shotgun instead of a rifle, which I could fire from cover, instead of standing right out in the open, making it so easy to take me out.

Plus, I don’t even have an escape plan. The helicopter will definitely beat the Boots here, but it won’t be long before they secure the building.

At least Sara’s not with me. Danny either. They might still have a chance. This is what I’m telling myself as I hear the distant thwump of the chopper getting louder and louder. I don’t even have to put my ear to the door to know it’s almost here.

Sara’s supposed to meet me at the pond. I know she won’t wait forever. I told her she can’t be late to the cave. It’s Danny who’s important. I just hope she doesn’t hold out too long. Sharon won’t hesitate to leave her and Danny behind.

I wonder what’s going to happen with Wayne. When Sharon sees him, she’s going to shit herself. I wish I could be there to see her face. I just hope Wayne doesn’t get Danny killed.

My hand is on the door handle and my heart feels like it’s the size of my head. The Mossberg’s at my side, my finger just above the trigger.

Everything’s tunneling. I can’t breathe.

It sounds like the helicopter is circling. I need to time this right, wait until it’s on the other side of the building before coming out.

Voices fill the stairwell, but they’re not coming up. Everyone’s fleeing, meaning the Boots are probably already here. They’ll sweep every floor. I’ve run out of time.

The chopper is as loud as ever. I wait for a couple of seconds until it’s a little quieter, hoping I can make it to the wall next to the air conditioners before the gunner sees me.

My hand presses down. The click of the door. At least this will be quick.

I throw open the door and I’m practically blind from the sun. I stayed too long in the stairwell and my eyes can’t adjust. The chopper’s coming around and my finger goes to the trigger. It’s so loud and bright. I press my back against the wall, hold the shotgun to my chest. I’m closing my eyes picturing Lily and Rachel and my parents. Dad’s telling me I can’t be afraid to pull the trigger.

But I suddenly realize that fear might be the only way out of this. The chopper is less than two seconds from seeing me with this shotgun. There’s no way I can pull this off, not like this.

So I drop the gun, kick it so it’s under the metal folding chair. The one I used to salute the flag and sing like a goddamn lunatic.

That’s exactly what I have to look like. A man who has lost his mind.

I take off running, waving my arms, screaming at the top of my lungs. “HE’S IN THE STAIRWELL! WAYNE KING IS COMING DOWN!” The gunner’s hands are wrapped around steel, ready to open fire, and I have no idea if he can understand a word I’m saying. But I just keep screaming that Wayne’s heading down the stairs and start pointing over the edge. I’m right up against it, looking over, seeing the ground, but somehow with all the adrenaline, I’m not afraid. I’m just screaming, “DOWN! DOWN!”

The gunner must understand enough, because he’s saying something to the pilot, who starts to circle around to the front of the building. He’s descending, the rotor now even with the ledge. They’re looking in the windows, looking for Wayne.

I turn back to the wall, where the shotgun is and take off running. I try to pick it up, but my hand smacks against the folding chair. The chopper sounds like it’s starting to pull away to get a better view. I flip over the chair, grab the gun, and run back to the ledge. The crowd down below is staring up at the chopper. I see them through the spinning blades, moving so fast it’s just this translucent swirl.

I tell them to fucking move even though they can’t hear me. I raise the barrel and aim it right at the center of the blades. One shot. That’s all I get.

I hold my breath, just like Dad taught me. One eye closed. Shoulder’s relaxed. Arm steady.

Someone down below sees what I’m about to do and screams something. The crowd looks up and I’m waving my hand to tell them to get the fuck away from there.

The pilot must see them, because the chopper begins to rise. I don’t have a choice. The gunner is going to have me in his sights any second.

My finger curls around the trigger, just like Rachel’s and Grandpa’s before everything went dark.

The blast is louder than the rotor and the kickback practically separates my shoulder, searing pain shooting down my arm. But I don’t move. Just watch the buckshot spark off the blades, which slow down to the point I can see all four. Then the chopper begins to tilt. The pilot’s trying to pull up or set it down. I can’t tell. I just see the crowd running and the blades grinding and carving into the street. Sparks and metal spray into the air and sidewalk. The fire isn’t instantaneous, but it doesn’t take long before the entire helicopter explodes.

Two women are thrown back. A guy is holding his face, obviously burned and ripped up by the shards of metal.

The gun is still in my hands as I back up, nearly trip. I stare into the sun as the crackling sounds mingle with screams.

What the hell have I done?

The door closes behind me as I enter the stairwell. I’m against the wall and shaking. The backpack is on the floor and I just stare at it, knowing I need to break down the shotgun, but I hear voices coming up from the first floor.

The Boots are here, and I have nowhere to run. They’re going to open fire. My fingers fumble for the shells, but I can’t keep a grip. It’s like they’re covered in oil. I look over the side. Someone is definitely coming. A seven-floor climb and it’s all over.

I see the next level down, the door that leads to my office. I grab the pack and race down the stairs. The voices are getting closer. I stay against the wall. My foot misses a step and I nearly fall, my ass almost hitting the stairs, but I keep moving, flinging myself towards the door. My hand finds the handle and I quickly slip in, expecting to see Carlos and