“No one can keep us safe,” she says gravely. “The world isn’t safe, Mercedes. It never has been.” Her Tidewater drawl, practically nonexistent when she spoke to us in the office, is thick now in her distress.
“But we’re here, Cara. Look at us, you and me. Our fathers hurt us so badly, but we survived. We’re helping other kids. You did so good, sweetheart, you worked so hard to get these kids safe. Sarah? Sarah Carter? She’s so relieved, Cara, she’s safe now. And you did that.”
“Her stepfather was a bad man,” Cara says, the gun lowering slightly.
“He was. He hurt her. And you stopped him.”
Nichelle isn’t struggling, but she watches me, wheels turning in her head. When Cass steps on a dry branch, the crack hanging in the air, Nichelle shifts her weight, bringing her foot down on a smaller branch.
Oh, good girl, you brilliant, beautiful girl.
“Cara, I know you’re protecting Nichelle, but do you remember when I told you there were rules? I’m not allowed to put my gun away if any other gun is out. Do you remember?”
The blonde nods slowly. “Daddy’s friend. He had to put it down.”
“Exactly. I know you’re keeping her safe, Cara, but you’ve got a gun. I’m not allowed to put mine away.”
“But—”
“Don’t you want me to help you, Cara?”
She chose the name Caroline, but Cara is the name carved into her bones, bleeding through her scars. Cara is the name of the frightened girl, the one who wants comforting. The one who trusted me.
Cass and Sterling aren’t going to be able to get a shot on her from the sides, not without risking Nichelle. She has to put down the gun.
“I didn’t mean to hurt Emilia,” she sobs. “I was just trying to protect her.”
“I know. I know you were, she just didn’t understand. She was scared, Cara. And we do things, don’t we, when we’re scared? Put down the gun, sweetheart.”
Preferably before the helicopter I hear can get any closer and spook you.
But she hesitates too long, and the helicopter comes over the clearing, the searchlight blinding. I squint against it with long practice. Cara screams. “You’re trying to trick me!” she shrieks. “You lied to me!”
“Cara, I know you meant the best, but you killed people. There are consequences for that.”
Eddison, Sterling, and Cass all step into the clearing, guns up and leveled at Cara. They stay back, trying to let me keep working.
But I’ve lost her. She stares at me, tears bright in her eyes, her whole body trembling with emotion. “I’m helping them, Mercedes. Like you helped me. Why . . . I thought you’d be proud of me. Why are you trying to stop me? Why?”
“Caroline Tillerman,” Eddison calls over the deafening thump of the copter blades. “Put down the gun. You are under arrest for the murders of Sandra and Daniel Wilkins, Melissa and Samuel Wong—”
Her face twisted in fury, Cara lunges forward, half-tripping over the resistant Nichelle, and fires. Eddison drops to the ground with a grunt.
Suddenly there’s a crack and a black and red rose blooms in Cara’s forehead. She takes a breath, tries to take a second, and tips backward to the ground as Nichelle struggles away from her.
I glance to Sterling and Cass, but they’re both looking at me.
Dios mío. That was me.
That was my shot.
Sterling races forward to grab Nichelle, kicking the gun away and holding the girl so she can’t see. Cara’s sprawled across the ground, her eyes wide and startled, mouth open with shock.
A groan behind me makes me spin. Eddison. “Mercedes.”
I drop down beside him. He’s curled around his left leg, both hands clenched around as much of his lower thigh as he can manage. Blood seeps out, thick and dark, between his fingers. Holstering my gun, so much heavier than I remember it ever being, I yank off my blouse, buttons flying, and start wrapping it around the wound.
“You know,” he manages through gritted teeth, “now they’re really going to think we’re sleeping together.”
I yank the first knot tight over the bullet hole, and he growls.
“How is he?” asks Sterling, her voice shaking.
“He’ll need to get lifted out. The copter can’t land and he can’t hike it. That’s way too far to carry him.”
“Is that your way of calling me fat?”
“It’s my way of saying make one more joke and I will leave you to Priya’s tender mercy.”
That asshole actually grins at me. “I was a model of restraint when she got hurt.”
“That doesn’t mean she will be.”
He grimaces against a throbbing wave of pain, the muscles twitching under my hands. “Point.” A Marine in full gear rappels down from the hovering helicopter. “Anyone hurt?” he bellows.
Cass grabs him by the elbow and shoves him our way. The Marine Corps, if I remember correctly, doesn’t actually have medical personnel, but most units have corpsmen with some medical training. He gives a quick check under the rapidly soaking-through bandage, then turns his head to speak into the radio on his shoulder. A second Marine drops down with a collapsible backboard and some rigging.
“Oh, fuck no,” mutters Eddison.
I flick his forehead with bloody fingers. “You will do it and you will say thank you,” I warn him ominously. And then, because he’s my brother and we’re both scared out of our minds, I scratch along his scalp, fingers digging into his shaggy curls. I don’t pull away until the Marines lift him in a smooth, practiced move and transfer him onto the rigged-up board. They carry the board over to the dangling ropes and with a series of knots that seem more fast than safe, to my inexperienced eye, have both themselves and Eddison roped in. Winches in the copter haul them up. The last I see of Eddison is his tired, somewhat mocking salute to the Marines pulling him on board.
Cass grabs my elbow with both hands and yanks me to my feet. “Nichelle,” she reminds me as the copter moves away.
Right. Traumatized child, who has absolutely no idea what’s going on.
She’s wrapped around Sterling, face buried in Eliza’s stomach, her shoulders shaking. Sterling rubs firmly between her shoulder blades, giving her a grounding point.
“Nichelle?”
She shifts her head to look at me with one eye.
I crouch down beside her, trying not to touch either of them with my bloody hands. “You are so smart, and so brave,” I tell her. “You knew just what we were trying to do, didn’t you?”
“Not at first,” she mumbles into Eliza’s shirt.
“But you figured it out. It was so frightening, but you figured it out and you helped us. Thank you, Nichelle. I’m sorry this happened, and I’m sorry I seemed to make it worse at first. And you know what, your mom is at home, waiting, and she is so worried about you.”
She perks up. Not enough to let go of Sterling, but I can see her whole face, at least. “Is she okay?” she asks in a rush. “She was bleeding but I couldn’t see how bad.”
“She’s hurt,” I admit, “but she’s going to be okay. Once she sees you’re safe and sound, you’ll both go to the hospital. Your dad is there already. I don’t know how he’s doing, though. He was in the ambulance before I got to the house.”
Sounds start carrying through the woods, yells and calls for us. Cass puts her phone back in her pocket where she’s standing guard over Cara’s body. “MARCO!” she yells, and there’s a ripple of shocked laughter through the trees.
“Stupid fed,” someone bellows. “The one looking is supposed to say ‘Marco’!”
“I can’t say ‘Polo’ if you’re not smart enough to say ‘Marco’ first!”
Nichelle giggles, even as she looks a bit shocked by it.
“Nichelle, we are really relieved that you’re okay,” I tell her, feeling a little giddy myself. “We might get a little silly. Is that okay?”
She nods with a shy grin.
A small herd arrives in the clearing, mostly uniforms with a couple of agents. A female officer immediately comes over to us and smiles down at the little girl. “Hi, Nichelle. My name is Officer Friendly. Do you remember me?”