CHAPTER 44
Billy ran forward as fast as he could, greedily gulping down the icy air. It cut into his lungs so sharply that every breath seemed to burn them with fire.
His feet sank into the deep, loose snow. He nearly fell with every step, but kept running, clutching his broken arm against his body.
Damn that car. They had deliberately left it farther away so no one would notice, and now he had to make his way through the snowdrifts just to reach it.
The distance seemed endless.
Suddenly, something in his chest clenched strangely, painfully — a sharp spasm that stole his breath. Parker and Lake were still back there, among the gunfire, smoke, and collapsing beams. And his pathetic attempt to help had amounted to nothing more than running back for backup. That was all. He had left them there, and now he had to make it back in time.
Billy stopped for only a second, doubled over, trying to catch his breath.
His vision swam. His heart pounded in his temples so hard it felt as though his skull might burst from the inside.
He turned around to make sure he was going in the right direction.
And that was when the explosion came.
A dull, devastating boom shattered the silence. Blindingly bright flames shot up above the sawmill.
Billy froze.
The fire had erupted exactly where Rick and Aaron had been left. Where the roof had just collapsed.
They could be underneath it.
“No way…” he whispered.
Rick would have made it out.
Aaron too.
They were somewhere in there. They were alive. They had to be alive.
He had just been talking to Rick. He had seen Aaron only moments ago. Rick had gone back for him, so surely he would have managed to save…
Billy stared at the fire, unable to tear his eyes away. Something in his mind seemed to jam. He tried to come up with even one explanation that didn’t end the same way.
“Could they really… be dead?”Tears came on their own. Billy collapsed to his knees in the snow, not even feeling the cold biting through to his bones.
“No… no, please…”
He sucked in a ragged breath, but instead of words, a cry tore from his throat. His voice broke.
Billy covered his mouth with his good hand, but it didn’t help. He was shaking so badly he could barely keep his balance.
He should have stayed.
He should have helped. Done something. Anything.
Instead, he had simply left, without even having time to call for help.
He hadn’t saved them.
Again, he had simply watched people he cared about slip away.
Once again, at the most important moment, he had been helpless.
He had let everyone down…
The shootout had started because of him. Because of him, his friends, his second family — the people who, for the first time in his life, had seen him not as weak, useless, or pathetic, but as a real person who could become something more if he simply tried — might be dying right now.
He hated himself for it so much that it felt as though the feeling would tear his chest apart.
Rachel’s words surfaced in his mind, sharp and sudden, as though she were standing beside him and whispering into his ear:
“Be braver. Someone’s life may depend on your courage.”He didn’t know how long he had lain in the snow. He didn’t remember getting up, walking on, or how he suddenly found himself standing in front of Lake’s car. Everything was happening through a haze. His body kept moving forward while his mind seemed to have retreated somewhere far away.
He turned on the radio and, in a cold, mechanical voice that sounded nothing like his own, said:
“Officer William Su Hong, requesting backup at the old sawmill. Two officers missing. Presumed dead. Hostiles are armed. Extremely dangerous.”
The words felt foreign. Empty. He said them automatically because that was what had to be done.
After switching off the radio, Billy slowly raised his eyes to the sky. An orange glow spread above the forest.
He angrily yanked open the glove compartment.
And then he saw a package of chocolate cookies.
The very ones — the sickeningly sweet ones Rick was always eating when he got nervous. The ones Aaron scolded him for eating, but bought for him anyway.
Billy froze.
His throat tightened so hard he could barely breathe.
He slowly moved the package aside. His fingers slipped deeper into the glove compartment and found Lake’s spare pistol.
He pulled it out. The heavy, cold metal settled into his palm.
Billy stared at the weapon and felt something inside him slowly begin to change.
The pain hadn’t gone anywhere. It was still there. Only now, something else was rising over it.
Anger.
At the people who had started the shootout. At the people who had led them into a trap. At himself for once again being too weak to protect the people he cared about.
If they had taken his family, this wasn’t going to end quietly.
He didn’t know what would happen to him afterward. He wasn’t thinking about consequences, rules, or what was right and what wasn’t.
Right now, he wanted only one thing — to make the people who had done this feel at least a fraction of the pain they had left behind.
In the silence came a metallic click — the magazine locked into place.
His fingers tightened around the grip.
***
Chunks of concrete came crashing down after it, blocking the passage.
Rick slammed into his side, feeling the air knocked out of his chest. A ringing filled his ears, his head was buzzing, and somewhere nearby came the sound of crumbling earth. He coughed, gasping for dusty sewer air.
The fall hadn’t been as hard as he expected. Almost nothing was visible through the collapse. He only realized that he was lying on something warm.
Aaron’s hand tightened around his shoulder.
“Are we… alive?” Rick rasped. His voice trembled as though from cold, though in reality he was shaking from adrenaline.
“Yeah,” Aaron answered heavily.
Rick couldn’t see his face, but somehow he immediately understood that Aaron had winced in pain.
He slowly raised his head.
“Could you… please,” Aaron began quietly, “not move?” And gently lowered his head back against his chest.
Such a simple, almost insignificant movement — and Rick suddenly went still.
“Sorry… I didn’t mean to,” he mumbled.
He could hear how fast Aaron’s heart was beating. Heavy, uneven, and so close. The warmth of his body could be felt even through their clothes.
“It’s okay…” Aaron replied.
They were too close. Rick was lying on top of him, and still it somehow didn’t feel close enough.
The thought made his cheeks warm again. But this time, he didn’t want to pull away. Quite the opposite.
Rick shyly buried his nose against Aaron’s chest.
Aaron raised a hand and touched his hair almost hesitantly. He ran his fingers gently through it, as though he were still making sure Rick was really there. Alive.
“Just… let’s stay like this a little longer,” he added more quietly, almost in a whisper.
“Okay…” Rick breathed.
His eyes closed on their own.
Everything was so strange. The world around them seemed to dissolve. The noise, fire, blood, screams, gunshots — everything happening above them now seemed foreign, distant, almost unreal.
Down here, underground, they were alone among dust, soot, and smoldering debris, sheltered beneath a pile of concrete. And for the first time in a long while, they could allow themselves to stop for at least a few minutes.
He could feel the air in their shelter growing warmer with their breath and body heat. Beneath his cheek, Aaron’s chest rose and fell steadily, his breathing gradually calming.
The fear slowly let go. In its place came something else — quiet, almost weightless. A fluttering feeling that made him want to press closer and never let go again.
Rick never would have imagined that the calmest and happiest moment of his life would look like this: a battered body, dust on his lips, the rush of blood in his temples, a sewer pipe instead of a bed, and… the person he loved beside him.
He suddenly smiled.
Absurd.
But every second of their little paradise was worth an entire lifetime.
“Why are you smiling?” Aaron asked, as though he had somehow sensed it.
“Nothing, really…” Rick murmured. “I just didn’t think I’d ever end up in a situation like this.”
He carefully lifted his head, trying to make out Aaron’s face in the half-darkness.
“You know what I want right now?”
“What?”
“Aunt Marcella’s cookies.”
Lake’s eyebrow rose, either in surprise or with that same dry irony he usually used to hide his bewilderment.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Rick grumbled. “They’re my favorite, you know.”
“I remember,” Aaron said quietly.
His fingers continued absently brushing through Rick’s soft, wavy hair.
“I know you remember.” Rick smiled even wider.
Aaron narrowed his eyes slightly and lifted his head.
“Yeah?..” he whispered, pulling Rick a little closer.
He leaned in, and Rick felt his breath against his face.
“Mm-hm…” Rick answered just as quietly.
He already knew what would happen next, but he still went still when soft, slightly sweet lips covered his.
The kiss was gentle, unhurried. He closed his eyes and leaned into it, lightly catching Aaron’s upper lip with his own. Aaron smiled into the kiss.
His chest grew tight and hot. For a second, Rick forgot how to breathe and only pressed himself closer.
Aaron held him for another moment. One hand gently cradled the back of Rick’s head, the other resting against his back. Then he finally pulled away slightly.
The tip of Aaron’s nose lightly brushed against his, and he lowered his head again.
Rick finally breathed in. He folded his arms across Aaron’s chest, rested his chin on them, and settled more comfortably, as though this were the most natural thing in the world.
“I remember,” he began thoughtfully. “How we used to hang out on the pier with the guys. Drink beer, talk, and all that… And then cookies and cheese nachos. The best thing you could come up with after a good joint.”
Aaron grimaced with pain, slipped his left arm beneath his head, and breathed out:
“Spicy ones are better.”
“What?” Rick blinked, not immediately understanding what he had said.
“Spicy nachos. They go down better,” Aaron explained in that same calm, almost lazy voice.
Rick’s eyes widened, his eyebrows shooting up. He leaned closer, staring at him.
“Whaaaat? Who are you?! Aaron Lake, who lectured me for smoking regular cigarettes, smoked weed himself?!”
“A couple of times,” Lake murmured with a barely audible chuckle and caught his hand before Rick could pull it away.
Their palms met. Rick didn’t pull his hand back. Instead, he only laced their fingers together more tightly.
“With who?” he asked in astonishment.
“Katie,” Aaron answered calmly.
His voice sounded slightly muffled, as though coming from far away. His thumb brushed over the knuckles of Rick’s hand.
“Katie…” Rick smirked. “I could’ve guessed. That sounds like her.”
He fell silent, staring into the darkness, then quietly laughed under his breath.
“Yeah… a joint would really hit the spot right now.”
Aaron closed his heavy eyelids for a moment. The orange lights of the Halloween party, the music, laughter, and smell of cheap punch immediately flashed through his memory.
And with them came that feeling again — the heaviness in his chest and the inability to take a proper breath.
He remembered that night. He had only been gone for five minutes, and when he came back, he saw Rick kissing two girls at once.
At the time, Aaron hadn’t even immediately understood why it hurt so much. He had simply stood there watching, feeling everything inside him tighten, as though someone were slowly pulling a knot closed.
He gave a quiet huff, remembering how ridiculous it had all looked.
Then he had sat on the bench behind the house, unusually drunk, hood pulled over his head, staring at the ground. That same lump had lodged in his throat, the one that made him want to swallow, though it never made things any easier.
The cold, damp air smelled of wet leaves and the sweet smoke of the bonfire. Music, laughter, and voices drifted from the window. Aaron listened to all of it and kept convincing himself that he didn’t care.
Except his heart ached traitorously, and the same picture kept appearing before his eyes: Rick, the girls, the kisses.
“You look like you hate the whole world,” someone suddenly said quietly beside him.
Aaron flinched and raised his head.
Katie stood in front of him. She was wearing a glittering fairy costume, with smeared mascara and reddened eyes. She looked tired, lost, almost translucent in the dim lamplight.
“So what?” he muttered, trying not to look directly at her.
Katie didn’t answer. She simply sat down beside him.
He felt the edge of her dress brush his leg and heard the quiet rustle of fabric. She smelled of perfume, smoke, and something sweet. His gaze slowly drifted toward her on its own.
She sat with her shoulders slumped. Her slender fingers nervously picked at the edge of her sleeve.
Finally, Katie reached into her purse. She slowly took out a small wrapped bundle and simply held it in her hands for a few seconds. Then she flicked her lighter.
The flame flared too brightly before his eyes.
Aaron squinted.
In the brief yellow light, he saw her tear-streaked face.
“Mark…” she explained quietly, wiping a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand.
Katie took a drag.
The tip of the joint glowed, occasionally flaring brighter when she inhaled. The wind immediately carried the smoke away.
Somewhere behind the house, leaves rustled. Music still drifted from the window, but now it seemed very far away. Someone slammed a door, someone laughed — and then it was quiet again.
Aaron stared at the ground and barely moved. The alcohol spread pleasantly and heavily through his body, his thoughts moving slowly, one after another. He could feel the cold through his clothes, hear his own breathing, and that dull, aching sensation somewhere in his chest that refused to disappear.
Katie took another drag.
“I know about you and Rick,” she finally said.
Aaron didn’t understand what he had heard right away.
He kept staring at one spot, as though the words had passed straight by him.
Then he frowned slightly.
“About me and Rick?”
The meaning reached him a moment later.
He turned sharply toward her.
“What?..”
For several seconds, Aaron simply froze, not knowing what to say. His heart dropped somewhere into his stomach, then slammed so hard it hurt.
“I don’t… we…”
His thoughts moved slowly, thickly, and still refused to come together into anything coherent.
He lowered his gaze.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Katie gave a quiet laugh but didn’t argue.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I won’t tell anyone.”
He slowly raised his eyes.
“I’m not blind, Aaron.” A tired smile flickered at the corners of her lips. “I see the way you look at him.”
He wanted to object, but couldn’t. That strange numbness still filled him. As though he had been caught doing something he was afraid to even admit to himself.
Katie didn’t look at him. She simply held out the bundle.
“Here,” she said. “You’ll feel better.”
At first, he only stared at the bundle in her hand. Then he took it hesitantly between two fingers, not entirely sure what he was about to do.
Katie smiled faintly.
“Go on, take a drag. Just not too hard.”
Aaron nodded. He brought the joint to his lips and inhaled cautiously.
The smoke was hot and harsh. It burned his tongue, scratched his throat, and immediately sank deeper, making his lungs seize in surprise. He jerked away and coughed, doubling over.
“Damn…”
Katie laughed softly.
“I told you—not too hard.”
Aaron wiped the tears from his eyes and looked at her in disbelief.
“And you smoke this?”
“Sometimes.”
He turned his gaze back to the smoke, which dissolved into the cold air in a thin stream.
A strange, slightly bitter taste remained in his mouth, and his throat still stung unpleasantly. Aaron took a careful breath through his nose, paying attention to what he was feeling.
After a few seconds, the unpleasant burning began to fade.
His body still felt heavy with alcohol, but something new was gradually appearing inside him — a barely perceptible relaxation, as though the tension he had been carrying in his shoulders and chest all evening was slowly letting go.
He leaned back against the bench and took another drag before handing the bundle back to Katie.
She said nothing else. She simply sat beside him, occasionally taking a drag herself.
Aaron closed his eyes.
The cold air touched his face, his clothes and fingers now smelled of smoke, and the warmth of her shoulder was beside him.
He could feel his eyelids growing heavier. His thoughts were still tangled, but now they no longer hurt.
It was peaceful.
For the first time since last year, he probably didn’t feel quite so alone.
They sat silently on the bench for a long time. The memory dissolved like the light of a lighter, and Aaron found himself back beneath the rubble.
The darkness around them had grown thicker, the smoldering debris was almost extinguished, and dust settled on his lips. Rick was breathing quietly against his chest. Alive.
Aaron carefully ran a hand through his hair. His fingers lingered at the back of Rick’s head, gently combing through his tousled strands.
He could feel Rick’s breathing gradually evening out, and finally managed to take a proper breath himself.
He just wanted to lie there with him. At least a little longer.
Not think about what was happening above. Not remember Austin, Gecko, Fox. Not count how much time they had left.
Aaron held Rick a little tighter.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” he said softly into the top of his head.
“You think so?” Rick spoke up.
“I’m sure of it.”
Somewhere above them, there was still rumbling as other sections of the roof collapsed one after another.
Aaron closed his eyes.
Rick lay silently for a little while longer, then shifted.
“But we still have to get out of here, right?” he drawled.
Aaron gave a quiet chuckle.
“We do.”
“I don’t want to.” Rick buried his nose against Aaron’s neck.
“Neither do I.”
Something crashed above them again, and the air in the pipe visibly shuddered.
Rick took a deep breath and frowned slightly.
“Aaron…”
“Mm?”
“Do you feel it?”
Aaron went still for a second, listening to his surroundings.
“The smell of smoke?”
“Yeah. I think it’s getting thicker.”
“Then it’s time to go.”
Rick smiled.
“Agreed,” he whispered.
He pulled away from Aaron’s neck and lifted his head, looking into his eyes.
“But we’re not finished?”
“We’re not finished,” Aaron answered just as quietly.
Without thinking twice, Rick leaned forward and kissed him.
Aaron only smiled silently, reluctantly removed his hand from Rick’s back, and tried to sit up, immediately wincing at the pain in his side.
Rick looked at him at once.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Rick snorted but carefully helped him sit up anyway.
He instinctively reached a hand to his chest and suddenly froze.
A chill ran down his spine.
“No… no, no, no…” he breathed barely audibly.
Rick began searching by touch. His fingers slid over dust, stones, and shards of tile.
“What happened?”
“My camera.” Rick’s voice trembled. “I can’t find it! It was around my neck the whole time!”
Lake silently took out his flashlight and pressed the button.
The light flickered. Once. Twice. Only then did it reluctantly come on.
They looked around. Dust hung in the air, settling over concrete and broken tiles. Pieces of pipe, rocks, and twisted metal lay scattered everywhere. Everything had merged into one gray heap.
And then a small dark spot caught his eye off to the side.
“Wait!” Rick blurted. “Shine it back there.”
Aaron immediately directed the flashlight beam toward it. Something small flashed in the bright light, then disappeared again. A familiar black strap protruded from beneath a heavy chunk of concrete.
Rick was already lunging toward it.
He dropped to his knees in front of the rubble and moved the first piece of concrete aside. It rolled away with a dull thud, followed by a shower of small fragments.
“Careful!” Aaron warned. “The debris could shift.”
Rick moved another piece, and stones immediately began raining down from above. One struck his shoulder, another bounced off the floor right beside him.
“Rick!”
He didn’t even lift his head.
His fingers slid over sharp edges. He cut himself several times but didn’t feel the pain. Beneath another piece of concrete lay what had recently been a camera. Plastic, glass, and metal had been crushed into a black mess.
Rick froze.
“No…”
He carefully began clearing away the debris. A small thread of hope still remained inside him that at least the memory card had survived.
One piece. Second. Third.
Until his eyes caught on a tiny fragment of plastic, broken cleanly in half.
That was it.
