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Chapters (73)
  1. Goodbye to the Dead
  2. Also By Brian Freeman
  3. Title
  4. Copyright
  5. Dedication
  6. Epigraph
  7. CONTENTS
  8. PROLOGUE
  9. THEN
  10. 1
  11. 2
  12. 3
  13. 4
  14. 5
  15. 6
  16. 7
  17. 8
  18. 9
  19. 10
  20. 11
  21. 12
  22. 13
  23. 14
  24. 15
  25. 16
  26. 17
  27. 18
  28. 19
  29. 20
  30. 21
  31. 22
  32. 23
  33. 24
  34. 25
  35. 26
  36. 27
  37. 28
  38. 29
  39. 30
  40. 31
  41. 32
  42. 33
  43. 34
  44. 35
  45. NOW
  46. 36
  47. 37
  48. 38
  49. 39
  50. 40
  51. 41
  52. 42
  53. 43
  54. 44
  55. 45
  56. 46
  57. 47
  58. 48
  59. 49
  60. 50
  61. 51
  62. 52
  63. 53
  64. 54
  65. 55
  66. 56
  67. 57
  68. 58
  69. 59
  70. 60
  71. 61
  72. FROM THE AUTHOR
  73. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

That girl – Laura – stood paralyzed no more than twenty feet away. She stared at Cindy, and Cindy stared back at her. Laura wore a skirt that left her long legs bare, and her knees practically knocked against each other. She wore heels that weren’t meant for running, but she was going to run. Her pretty oval eyes darted back and forth, looking for escape. She was a deer by the highway with a truck coming, startled, ready to bolt.

The exit door wasn’t far away. Laura thought she could make it, but Cindy knew she couldn’t.

Tap knock tap knock.

Cindy spread her fingers wide on both hands and pushed the air, as if she could shove Laura back into the store, as if she could make the girl turn around and hide. She shook her head frantically, needing her to understand. She mouthed the word over and over: No! No! No! No!

Forty seconds became thirty-five. Time slowed down until she could almost see the world drift to a stop.

Don’t run! Don’t run!

Laura ran.

The teenager took six steps in her gangly heels before the bullet took her down. She wailed, her head flung back. Red bloomed on perfect peach skin, and her leg caved under her. She toppled, her shoulder struck the floor, and she squirmed on her back, clutching her thigh.

Tap knock tap knock.

There he was. He marched into view, a soldier all in camouflage, a warrior armed with an assault rifle and ammunition slung over his chest. He had a handgun outstretched at the end of his right arm. He came for Laura, the wounded animal, to deliver the killing shot. Laura wriggled away and cried and begged. He was ten feet from her.

Thirty seconds.

Every other thought in Cindy’s brain went away. Every thought of herself and Jonny vanished. Cindy knew only one thing: Teenagers weren’t supposed to die. Her sister wasn’t supposed to die.

The girl on the floor of the mall was not going to die.

Cindy charged. She took off like a sprinter and crossed the space between her and the gunman in one breath. He heard her coming, he felt her coming, and as he turned, bringing the gun with him, she launched herself into the air. She was small, but so was he, and they collided heavily, both crumpling to the tile. She was on top of him, but he hit her hard with the side of the gun, and the impact made her limp.

Twenty seconds.

Somewhere in her mind were the shouting and the thunder of the police. Somewhere close by was Jonny. But not close enough.