Chris backed up, hands surrendered. “Lighten up, Gonda. Just a bit of humor. Got to admit, we’re killing a lot of main characters.”
Jeremiah replied with an exhale, shaking his head, muttering to himself, “I know, I know, but it will work. It has to work.” He motioned for Chloe and Chris to take their places, tapping Chris on the shoulder as he walked past. “Sorry, man.”
“Forget it.”
“Okay, Chloe,” Jer said, scanning Lori’s clipboard. “After he falls, run over to mourn him, then take over with his rifle.”
“I’m supposed to use the cannon.”
“You were until it jammed. Take up his rifle.”
“It won’t be loaded,” Chris said. “I will have just shot the British captain. She’ll have to reload.”
Jeremiah swore. “Then use his dagger. Stab someone.”
“Esther is going to stab someone?” Chloe paused for the stylist to touch up her makeup. “She would never—”
“Aim for his chest. Just as you’re making contact, Hastings will shoot you. All right, people, let’s go.” Jer bent beside Sandy to view the shot. “The light is perfect. Let’s get this in one take, everyone.”
“Picture’s up.” The AD, Sharon, stepped from behind the camera. “Sound. Speed.”
“Action!” Jeremiah’s voice bellowed over the field.
Anxiety charged Chloe as she watched the scene. The stage felt real. She wasn’t just acting, she was telling someone’s story. Hers.
The volley of musket fire armed her adrenaline. Chris ran across the field toward a British soldier, firing his weapon. Then he recoiled, taking a bullet, gripping his chest and twisting down to the ground.
Tears tapped the corner of Chloe’s eyes.We can’t die. Jesse...
“Chloe... ” Jeremiah waved her forward. “When you’re ready.”
For the umpteenth time, Chloe Daschle ran to her silver-screendeath. She dropped next to the bleeding Hamilton, kissed his forehead, and whispered her love.
HAMILTON: Esther, my love, what are you doing here? Your father... furious.
ESTHER (Tearing the hem of her dress for a bandage): I couldn’t sleep after our row. I had to see you, to tell you I’m sorry.
HAMILTON: I’m to blame. Arrogant and selfish, with no look to your cares.
ESTHER: You think one little confrontation will rid you of me? Nay, you’re going to marry me one day. We’ll have a dozen bothersome children. You’ll regale our grandchildren with an exaggerated tale of your battlefield wound.
HAMILTON (Reaching up, pulling her down to a kiss): I love you.
ESTHER: And I you.
Esther’s tears dropped to Hamilton’s bloody, dirty, scarred face. Tears of sorrow. Tears of healing. Tears of hope.
“Chloe?” Jer’s voice broke her reverie. “The dagger...”
Chris squeezed her hand. “Go get ’em. Die brilliantly.”
Picking up the prop, she spotted the extra running toward her, a thin cutlass raised over his head.
She lunged toward him, aiming for his heart. To kill one’s enemy, aim for what gives him life.
Charging faster, faster, her blood pumping, she launched through the air with an ear-crunching yell, sailing toward the extra with her weapon raised, exploding with all the love, angst, and pain in her heart.
“Death, you cannot have me!” Just as she was about to strike, theclick-slapof a musket resounded.
