“To work?” she asked.
I hadn’t thought about why; I just knew I wanted her here. That wasn’t fair to her. I couldn’t ask her to put her life on hold for the next two months while I concentrated on the election. I wasn’t ready to commit to anything right now, either. As I picked up her luggage, I replied, “For a vacation.”
It sounded lame, like what you say to someone when you really weren’t sure you were going to see them again. I wanted to see her, but was that realistic? Probably not. My life was heading in a different direction and she was heading home.
We were all loaded into the SUV, with James driving while Alysa and I held hands in the back. She glanced out the window repeatedly, concern furrowing her brow, and I asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I just have a bad feeling about this,” she said.
“About leaving?” I asked. She shook her head. I gave her hand a squeeze and said, “You’ll be home and back in your own bed by tomorrow morning.”
When she turned and looked at me I could see she really was worried. I wished I could ease her mind, but I felt the same thing and wouldn’t be able to rest until I knew she was safe.
Come on, James. Can’t you drive this fucking thing any faster?
There was one popping sound and then another. James cut the wheel sharply to the right and then to the left. What the fuck!
Alysa held on and shouted, “Incoming!”
Incoming what? Something exploded about twenty feet in front of the SUV, and James cut the wheel again and slammed on the brakes, causing the vehicle to flip into the air and roll over and over. We were tossed from side to side until the SUV came to rest upside down.
I smelled gasoline, and could just make out the sound of distant gunfire over the hammering of my heart. My vision was becoming a bit blurry, but I saw James turn around. “Are you okay?” he asked.
My head was spinning, and I couldn’t focus. Alysa! I couldn’t see her.
“I’m fine,” Alysa responded. She’s okay. Thank God. My eyes closed as I heard her say, “Hand me my Glock.” Glock? Then all went black.