I watched Jared scroll over the list of pies, cakes and ice cream. While he searched, I noticed a small, glowing red dot appear over his shoulder and then slowly make its way across the table. I lowered my menu as I watched it hit the edge of the table, and then travel up the bodice of my dress, settling over my heart.

“Huh,” I said in a higher, bewildered pitch.

“What, sweetheart?” Jared asked, still looking over the menu.

“There must be someone else in here. They’re playing with one of those laser-pointer thingies,” I said, still watching it quiver on my chest.

My body jerked, and I felt the world spin in slow motion. The sounds of war impeded the air around me and I struggled to gain my bearings. Glass crashed to the floor, and high-pitched buzzing noises accompanied the staccato of gunfire. My arms and legs felt constricted and heavy, but at the same time weightless; flying through the air, higher and higher. I closed my eyes and tried to sift through the confusion.

Jared’s voice called to me from far away, and as his voice grew closer, so did the buzzing and tapping noises.

“Nina!” Jared yelled.

Sitting on the ground with my back to the inside of the waiter’s station, time sped up and the noises blurred together. Jared reached above me, and I heard a ripping noise. With one hand he placed a large board behind my back, leaning me against it. He ducked once and called my name again.

“Nina!”

My mind abruptly caught up with the present. Jared had reached across the table the second he’d noticed the red dot, and we flew together under a slew of gunfire to the middle of the room. He quickly righted me and ripped the marble countertop off above us, placing it behind me as a shield.

A hail of bullets soared around us again, and I could hear the waitress screaming from the back in Japanese. Jared yelled something back to her and then turned to me.

The red table cloth had made the journey with us, and I was tangled in it. I covered my head as the next barrage of bullets surged through the restaurant. When I looked up, I noticed a red stain on Jared’s shirt that grew larger with every passing second.

“Jared!”

He looked at me with confusion and then followed my line of sight to his shoulder.

“It’s fine,” he said, shaking his head dismissively. “Are you okay?” he yelled over the breaking glass and gunfire, ducking as he spoke.

I nodded, watching Jared’s confused expression turn to concern. He looked down at his thigh and touched his pants.

“Did you get hit in the leg, too?” I asked, ducking with another onslaught of gunfire.