Mania by J. R. Johansson Page B

kitchen counter, Finn goofing off in the backyard … they pelted me from all angles.
    My life, here and gone in an instant.
    The gun fell from the officer’s fingers as he yelped out in pain. I just caught sight of a whirl of motion near the car before a crowd of rebels with guns surrounded all three men.
    I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t blink. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jack running toward me. I thought I could hear him yelling my name.
    â€œParker! Parker, are you hurt?” His voice began to slice through my haze. “Parker! Did he hit you?”
    I slowly turned my face toward my brother. The sheer wild panic I saw on his face was nearly as shocking as the fact that I’d been shot. Drawing in my breath, I felt the world start moving like normal again, and color rushed back into Jack’s face when I finally said, “I—I’m okay … I think I’m okay.”
    Jack reached out to the left side of my head and his fingers came back with a drop of blood. “He just nicked the top of your ear. You’re one lucky idiot.”
    â€œI guess I gotta be lucky at something,” I groaned as I rolled over and up onto my knees. Relief flowed through me at the knowledge that it could have been so much worse. “Besides, it worked, didn’t it?”
    Jack smiled and I saw respect in his eyes. “It did.”
    The chaos all around us had stopped. There were no bullets, no yelling. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath as it watched our fight end.
    Jack helped me up and then jogged over to a nearby trailer. He came back with a couple of dishtowels in his hands. He crossed to the older officer, who glared at him over the top of his gag. Some rebels stood ready with rope to tie him up, but were waiting for Jack as he carefully retrieved his knife from the man’s biceps, wiped it off on one of the towels, and sheathed it. He tied the cloth tight around the man’s wound. By the time he’d finished, I’d taken Jack’s other dishtowel and walked over to the younger officer. This one looked more scared than angry and was in quite a bit of pain.
    I considered repeating Jack’s steps, but the knife was embedded in the man’s forearm. I was nervous that if I pulled it wrong, I might do more damage than good.
    Jack stepped up, grabbed the hilt of the knife, and looked at me. “Ready?”
    I nodded. When he pulled out the knife, I quickly tied the cloth tight around the man’s arm. The wound was still really bleeding, but the towel did its job. The rebels tied this cop up as well. Jack wiped the knife on the makeshift bandage before sticking it back in his boot.
    â€œWe’re not a bad team, you know?” I spoke the words hesitantly, but I felt I needed to say it. Jack needed to recognize that I could be more than just someone who always got in his way.
    He nodded but didn’t look at me. “I know.”
    Randall approached us. He’d taken a bullet to the shoulder since I’d seen him a few minutes before, but someone had already wrapped it up and he looked like he’d be fine.
    â€œThat was incredibly brave—and incredibly foolish. But thank you, both of you.” Randall shook his head and looked over his shoulder at a few of the others, who were covering Marisol’s body with a white sheet. “I’d hoped things might get better after … after what Danny did.”
    â€œThey will.” Jack was trying to sound confident, but the hesitation in his tone was hard to miss. “I just need more time.”
    Randall leaned toward him. “What are you working on, Jack?”
    â€œDanny gave me something I have to sort out.” Jack spoke the words quietly, looking around us as though there might still be someone we couldn’t trust who was listening.
    â€œGod, please no.” Randall paled as he spoke, and it took me a moment to catch up. “Please tell me