Lily’s chin was raised, her eyes had narrowed in rage. Her hands were tight fists, her arms like trembling sticks, and she was staring hard at the two men remaining standing. Only when their bodies hit the ground did she flinch, her expression changing from fury to astonishment.

The winds from the approaching helicopter began to tear at their faces and clothes. William jerked back to the field, seeing once again the flashing lights approaching.

Those aren’t phones. Those are scopes on guns.

The Porsche’s engine roared through the night. Clearly with one foot on the gas and the other on the brake, the driver rolled down his window, “Get in! Get in, William!”

William’s hands rose to the back of his head, frantically looking from the series of unmoving bodies to the dead woman lying at his feet. For a moment, he thought he was caught up in another horrible nightmare.

Wake up! Wake up!

The approaching helicopter above the thrashing cotton was a slap of reality. With more lights approaching and his Jeep slumped to the dirt, he scrambled towards the car. He reached the door and threw it open, almost stepping in.

He then stopped, turned around and ran back.

“What the hell! Dude, I’m not waiting!”

William stumbled around the Jeep, seeing the girl in what appeared to be a state of shock. He snatched her up, carrying her in his arms just as more people emerged. He quickly glanced back, fearing they would start firing. Instead, they began to drag the unmoving bodies into the rows.

Wait, are they all wearing suits?

“Come on!” the man yelled through the Porsche’s window.

One of the men, who had seized Lois’ body and begun to pull her into the field, looked in their direction.

William ran for the backseat and slid in, the girl holding tight to his neck.

“Go!” he shouted.

“No way man, not with that kid—”

“Do you want to get shot too?”

The driver’s response was a collection of curses as he let his foot off the brake and slammed the pedal to the floor.

FOUR

“Lynn.”

Her first reaction was not to respond to Roxy’s voice but instead to reach over to the phone on the nightstand. Her friend’s tone beyond the door was the first signal flare, which became more alarming when Lynn realized she’d accidentally set her phone facedown, meaning there had been no flash on her screen to jar her from sleep. As she slipped on her glasses and saw the multiple, brightly colored alerts, her stomach dropped.

The words from the local NBC station alert came into focus. “DISTURBANCE AT WILLIAM CHANCE’S ARKANSAS HOME.”

“Lynn?”

“I’m reading it now,” she said, pressing the link.