If We Survive

CHAPTER TEN

It was the worst moment of my life.

Nicki reeled back into the room, screaming and screaming. Babbling words through hysterical tears: “What’s happening_? Why won’t anybody help us? Oh, they killed him! They killed him! What’s going to happen to us?”

I turned and saw Meredith rush after her. She grabbed Nicki by the shoulders. Nicki struggled wildly in her grip, her head going back and forth, her hair flying.

“Let me go!” she screamed. “No! No! No! They killed him! I have to get out of here! I have to! I can’t stand it!”

“Stop it! Stop it, Nicki!” Meredith said sharply. She shook her. “Have faith! Have courage! Stop!”

Nicki did stop—for a moment. She stared at Meredith through big eyes ringed with black mascara. Her mouth hung open. “Faith?” she asked, her voice breaking. “Courage?” And then a light of understanding seemed to dawn in her. “Because they’re going to kill us next, aren’t they? That’s why you’re talking about faith and courage! They killed Pastor Ron and they’re going to kill us next!”

Nicki was winding herself up to another fit. But Meredith took her face in her hands, held it hard, forcing Nicki to look at her.

“Nicki,” Meredith commanded. “Look at me. Do what I tell you. Have faith. Have courage.”

Trapped in her grip, Nicki could only go on staring at her. “Why?” she asked. “Why should I?”

“Because they’re all we’ve got,” Meredith told her.

Nicki stared at her another second, uncomprehending. Then she cried out, “I can’t, Meredith! I can’t! I can’t!” And she collapsed, weeping, into Meredith’s arms.

Jim, meanwhile, had wandered off the balcony into the room like a man in a trance. He was walking in aimless circles over the small open space of the floor, obviously in shock. He walked right past Meredith and Nicki as if they weren’t there. He was muttering to himself in confusion.

“How… why did… they must’ve… they must’ve thought…”

For a moment, I stood watching him. I was also numb and dazed with shock and horror and grief. But then my anger came back—it came back with a vengeance. Before I could stop myself, I rushed into the room and planted myself in Jim’s wandering path.

“You did this!” I shouted at him. “You told him to go! ‘Go talk to him,’ you said. ‘They’re not monsters.’ You told him!”

Jim came to a standstill. He stood and gaped at me as if he couldn’t comprehend what I was saying. That only made me angrier still. I don’t know what I would’ve done next or what terrible thing I would have said next. My fists were clenched at my sides. Some awful words were about to explode out of me.

“Will!” said Meredith.

I turned to her. She had her arms around Nicki, who was sobbing against her.

“Don’t,” Meredith said. “It’s not his fault.”

“He told Pastor Ron…,” I began to protest.

“Pastor Ron was a grown man who had the courage to do what he thought was right. And what happened isn’t his fault either. We’re surrounded by bad men and they have guns and we don’t and those are just the facts. This—this was coming from the start. There’s nothing we can do but face it as well as we can.”

I tried to take that in, tried to understand the magnitude of what she was saying. But I never had the chance.

Before I could think it through, before I could react at all, the door came flying open and Mendoza came in with four gunmen behind him.

Nicki screamed again and started up out of Meredith’s embrace. She backed away from the intruders in fear. I found myself doing the same—backing away—my feet moving automatically, outside my will. Jim did the same thing. It was useless—there was nowhere to go—but we couldn’t help ourselves.

Only Meredith stayed where she was. Still and erect in the center of the room. Looking at Mendoza, her expression as calm as ever.

Mendoza strode right to her. He stood before her, smiling— smiling cruelly—as if they had played a game to its end and he had won.

Then, all at once, the smile vanished. The rebel leader turned—toward me, I thought at first—but then I realized: no, he was looking at the balcony behind me—staring at the balcony, his mouth a grim line.

“Where is Palmer Dunn?” he asked.

Startled, I turned, looked over my shoulder.

The balcony was empty.

Palmer was gone.