Will can’t stand any longer. He grabs the chair by the table and carefully sits down. The blood is now soaking into his pants. His vision turns blurry, and his heart is like a drum in his head. Should he take the blade out? Would that help?
“Don’t move,” Doctor Levi says as he crouches in front of Will.
“How bad is it?” the mayor asks.
“Very bad. She hit his liver. You need to call an ambulance.”
“Not happening.”
“Well, then someone bring me a thick blanket. I need someone else to block his mouth.”
Will can’t make sense of what they’re saying. Hismind is in shambles, the unrelenting pain sending lightning across his body. He catches Hal coming closer to stand behind him, then he puts his rugged palm firmly over Will’s mouth.
Doctor Levi pulls out the blade and presses a towel to the wound.
Will screams into Hal’s palm, gripping the armrests as hard as he can.
“Too much blood,” the mayor says as he comes closer, his face ashy. “Veronica, start cleaning the blood. Hal, I need your men to take him somewhere.”
“Our deal wasn’t to bury a corpse.”
“Doc can go with you and try saving him. I can’t have him bleeding out in my house.”
Bleeding out. Somehow, the pain isn’t as bad as it was a minute ago. He hopes it’s a good sign, but it likely means he’s close to passing out. He wants to, because this is too much, but if he ever wakes up again, it will be as Hal’s prisoner, and he can’t accept that fate.
Hal removes his hand from Will’s mouth. He doesn’t have it in him to shout for help, and it won’t even matter since the window is still shut.The window.
Hal walks over to stand next to the mayor, both of them watching Will with stoic expressions. He wonders if either of them feels any remorse, but if they do, it’s absent from their eyes.
Still pressing the towel to Will’s bleeding wound, Doctor Levi sighs. “I’m afraid the blade went too deep. Idon’t think you’re going to make it. Even an ambulance won’t make it in time. I’m sorry, Will.”
He sounds like he means it. Will can feel that he’s dying, surrounded by monsters instead of the ones he loves. But if he is about to die, he’s going to leave each of these men with hell to pay.
With every ounce of strength he can muster, he kicks Doctor Levi backward. The pain erupts again, fierce enough to turn his vision white. He shakes his head and reaches to snatch the large, eagle-shaped paperweight. With it firmly in his grip, he turns the chair as much as he can and hurls it at the window.
Glass shatters, spilling onto the floor and letting in a cold gust of air.
In the street, car doors are being opened, followed by the sound of someone speaking into a radio device. Inside the office, the mayor’s guests are talking over each other, panicking.
With the voices all mixed together and the pain turning dull, Will shuts his eyes and enjoys the cool breeze on his face one last time.
Chapter 25
Owen
The weather is too nice for a funeral, Owen thinks as he sits in front of the closed casket. He hasn’t been to many funerals, but he remembers the weather being cloudy and gloomy. This sunny and bright day doesn’t feel appropriate for burying someone so special.
He wipes his eyes and tries to be strong, but he’s struggling. He sees Francie standing close by, holding a white rose. Her eyes are red, and when she sees Owen watching her, she offers a sad smile. He fails to offer one back.
There are about twenty people who have come here today to pay their respects. Bradley and Esteban look uncomfortable in their nice suits, and Bradley’s eyes are puffy and tired. His wife just gave birth, and Owen wishes his joy wouldn’t have to be mixed with grief. The sheriff is also here, standing at the back.
“This day is too nice for a funeral,” his aunt says where she sits to his left. Her arm is still in the sling, butshe should be removing it after her next checkup.
“Yeah, I know.”
The pastor goes to stand next to the casket, clearing his throat to get everyone’s attention. He asks the attendees to join him in prayer, and once he’s finished, he talks about the young life that was taken too soon. Owen tries to find comfort in the words about eternal life, but he can’t. Words are not going to turn back time and make the world more fair.
After a few minutes, the pastor says it’s time for the next of kin to offer words of reflection and remembrance.
