“But why?” I ask, anger rising. “And how the fuck did you know I’d be here?”
“We were following Valentine.” He turns to True and lifts hischin. “What’d you find, son?”
Truett stiffens, then directs his answer to me. “Remember what I said about the guys Brantley got himself involved with?”
“Yeah.”
“They got to him and his lawyer before I did. Took out his entire protection detail.” He points to Brantley’s driveway. “There’s a team down there staging his body right now, and we don’t want any part of that.”
Dad whistles under his breath. “Fuck.”
He whispers something into his collar, which seems like a bad sign.
“Got to him?” I ask, even though I know the answer.
“They killed him, son,” Baba explains softly.
I bring my hand to my mouth, tears spilling. Brant had become a lot of things I didn’t recognize, but once upon a time, he’d been my best friend.
I’m the only one showing any emotion, though, so I quickly wipe my tears, which dislodges the stupid contacts. I rub them out of my eyes, flicking them to the ground even as my mind is flooded with questions. So many questions. Before I can ask a single one, Truett and my fathers shift into a ready stance. Dad holds up a fist.
I don’t know shit from military signs, but I do know that means shut the fuck up.
I think of movie nights, Dad and Baba cracking up at every vigilante-slash-superhero movie I loved. Pointing out the inconsistencies.
A sound in the trees near Brantley’s driveway catches Dad’s attention, and the narrowing of his eyes sends goosepimples racing down my arm. His jaw sharpens as he identifies something in the dark.
“Get down,” he says, pushing me behind him. “Stay down.”
Suddenly, the shadows are torn apart by bright flashes and muted automatic weapons fire, and a low pulsing sound I don’trecognize. In less than a second, I’m on the ground, my arms protecting my head.
I make out boots crunching on gravel between shots.
The sound of bodies hitting the ground.
When things go silent, I open my eyes. There are piles of ash and dead bodies on the pavement and blood pouring from a wound on Baba’s temple. Dad lifts his gun and begins shooting into the shadows on either side of Brantley’s driveway.
Rather than the typical sound of shots being fired, there’s the low robotic pulse from before. Trees fall, or…disappear.
Truett empties his clip, then tosses his handgun and grabs a rifle from one of the dead guys. His eyes have gone flat.
I’m still on the ground, useless as a cup of tea, when one of the bigger men spilling out of the tree line tracks me. His smile will haunt my dreams for the rest of my life, however short that might be. But as he reaches me, his head…disappears.
Along with a fair amount of his shoulders.
His falling body reveals Dad, rifle in hand, grinning. True was right—that is not a good look. As he extends his hand to me, someone else comes up behind him. I scream out a warning, and he twists just as a man brings a massive knife down on his arm.
Dad’s rifle clatters to the ground and his arm hangs there, useless. Not thinking, I reach for the weapon, aim for the center mass of the man who just fucking knifed my dad, and pull the trigger. Unlike the guns I’ve handled all my life, this weapon has no kickback. With a dim flash and that low robotic pulse, the man’s entire torso disappears. He falls to the ground in two pieces, his mouth wide open in shock.
Honestly, same.
Dad is somehow still standing, but his arm is ruined. People haven’t stopped pouring in from the circle of trees, and they are shooting at us. I’m still holding the rifle, so I begin firing back. Everything I hit disappears.
Baba, still bleeding from the head, sidles up next to me. “Hold down the trigger and use a sweeping motion, son. Try to avoid hitting anyone’s home.”
I nod and do as my father says, sending out an arc of that dull pulsing light. People and weapons fall apart in front of me.
It’s over in seconds, no contest. Truett’s off to the side, throwing up, and I wonder why I don’t feel anything. I just did what came naturally.
