Page 2 of Beyond Redemption

“Always a cop,” I said, turning to watch him, already sick over what I was about to witness.

The Lincoln slowed as it passed the house. I didn’t hear the first two shots, but the reaction on the porch told me we were under attack. Bodies dropped low, diving for cover or for the children, moving with a speed that told me they understood something I didn’t. The next two reports were sharp, clean cracks that split the air, confirming what their instincts had already known. Instead of the usual impacts, every window of the house blew outward. Glass burst across the porch in glittering sheets; the warm glow from inside vanished behind a storm of splintered wood and flying shards.

The yard lurched beneath my feet. I looked down and saw that the grass was no longer green. It was dark and slick, spreading outward in a slow, relentless bloom, pooling and creepingtoward me like something alive. It wrapped around my feet, and as I struggled against it to get to Liis and Stella, it traveled up my legs.

“Liis!” I screamed, reaching out for my wife. She was still standing by the railing, staring at the road. “Liis! Get Stella!”

My palms slid across the wet ground as I fought to reach them, breath tearing out of my chest in uneven bursts. As I looked back and tore at the vines gripping my legs, I realized the ground wasn’t just wet, it was soaked in blood.

“Olive?” Falyn shrieked, on her knees next to Olive’s tiny, limp body. “Olive!”

This was wrong. It wasallwrong. Olive had been holding Stella when the Carlisis opened fire, and Olive had been a senior in high school, not five. Liis had been the first to reach them, not Falyn. Agents Wren and Hyde had been there, not Val. The Carlisis’ Lincoln had been black, not maroon. My brain was rewriting the details.Why?

I kicked free of the vines and crawled to Olive, reaching my fingers to her neck. A flutter, weak and fragile, fading beneath my fingers tips even as I waited for the next pulse. Her big green eyes were open, staring past me, through me, as if the sky was full of wonders.

“This isn’t real, Olive,” I said to her—and myself. “It’ll be over soon, sweetheart. It’s okay. It’ll be over soon.”

Her lips moved, and I leaned close until my forehead almost touched hers.

“Tell Twent,” she swallowed, “that I wanna go home.”

“Okay,” I said, feeling tears burn my eyes. “We’ll get you home, okay?”

“Ew?” Trenton cried out, scrambling to rush to her side. He cursed and sobbed in the same breath, looking her over in sheer shock.

“This isn’t how it happens,” I reassured him. “This isn’t… this isn’t real.”

Trenton cupped Olive’s face in both hands and offered her a reassuring smile, unconcerned with the blood pooling beneath them both. “You hear that, kiddo? You’re gonna be okay.”

She gave a small smile, trusting him in a way that made it seem as though she'd already been told how this would end. Seconds later, her face smoothed, every line easing, every muscle relaxing, as if she’d simply fallen asleep with her eyes open.

“Olive?” Trenton asked, confused. “Olive!” He screamed, shaking her as he glanced back and forth between us. “You said… you said she was gonna be okay, Tommy! What do I do?What do I do?”

“I…” I looked down at her lifeless body. “Trent, this isn’t—”

Paramedics and police swarmed the scene in a burst of flashing lights and shouted orders. Someone yanked me off the ground and pushed me back. Dozens of hands grabbed at my clothes and face, pulling me into the street, away from Olive, my dad, my wife, and daughter. I fought hard, desperately pushing and swinging at anyone close. It was useless.

The yard filled with radios, uniforms, and controlled movement. It all meant nothing, just as it had before. Our world had already ended.

I turned to see an ambulance, knowing in my gut I had to reach it, to get inside before they loaded Olive’s body into the back. I had to change the ending. From that moment on, only one thought possessed my mind: If I could reach the ambulance, I could change it.

Finally, I was feet away from the open double doors of the ambulance. “Don’t… put her… in there…” I called to them. “Don’t take her away!”

The world blinked. The yard vanished. No house, no porch, no family, no ambulance. Only the dim light of dusk and the smell of death thick in the air.

Suddenly, I was standing alone in a dark room that felt less like a space and more like a sealed container. The air was cold and heavy, stale in a way that reminded me of a freshly turned grave. My lungs strained against it, working harder with every breath, and only then did I understand what was happening. The air wasn’t circulating. It was slipping away.

Panic welled up within me. I needed to get out. I needed to get back to the yard, to the ambulance, to Olive.

The thought landed with absolute certainty. She still had time. All seemed lost at first glance, but I knew it the same way I knew my own name. With that knowledge came another, quieter truth: If Olive died, I was to blame.

Still, I couldn’t move. I couldn’t reach any of them. I couldn’t save them. I was alone in a narrow, pitch-black vault, lungs burning as I fought for air that wasn’t there.

My eyes popped open, and my body jerked upright as if dragged from deep water. My chest heaved, my heart slamming so violently it hurt. Cold sweat soaked my skin, sheets twisted around my legs, throat raw from a scream I couldn’t remember making.

“Thomas?” Liis said, rising with me.

I sucked in a breath, stopping just short of screaming. Stella was asleep down the hall, and after six months of her terrible twos, I knew better than to wake her.