SIXTY-FOURI’m bleeding! Oh God. Oh God. Mum! It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m running. Just keep running. It’s all I need to do. Every step is bringing me closer to—Impact. It was as though an asteroid fell from the sky and landed in his chest. Peter tumbled through the air. Time slowed to a crawl. His spinal cord severed by the time he hit the ground. He rolled onto his back and could feel nothing from the neck down. Unattainable breaths. Blood drained out of him. It was like being burned alive—a small glimpse of life in Hell. Wetness around him. A baptism. Peter began to drown.It’s not meant to be like this. It shouldn’t hurt.His eyes rolled up into his head; the white grew larger. He caught a glimpse of the upturned Christmas cutouts.Blood-streaked angels.The last thing Peter did was smile.

SIXTY-TWOHollow wind.Reggie collapsed onto Liz, pulling at her. “Get up,” she yelled. “Into the house now!” Her fingers around Liz’s sweaty arms. Jed watched them fall over each other and thought of that old show his dad used to make them watch when they were kids, The Three Stooges. In his mind, he heard kazoos and a crackling laugh track. He could still remember laying on his stomach in front of the television watching monochrome images play out through a scrim of dust. Liz next to him on the shag, cross-legged, chin cupped in her hands. This tableau felt like another life from another world, idealized statuettes in a dry snow globe. Now, as Jed watched his mother and sister struggle out the front of their house, his face impassive and cold, he wondered if this memory was even real. Their snow globe was most certainly cracked.Wes picked up the gun and something snapped in him.Something in the dark.The weapon was his.Wes was never one to theorize about fate. He didn’t beli

SIXTYSarah cried out—the glare from the son like a punch to her throat—and fell back into one of the seats. Nearby, Michael and Julia flinched. “Stay down,” Sarah told them.“What is—” Julia began. Stopped.Footsteps outside. Slow and deliberate.Wind blew across the bullet holes, whistling breath over the mouths of Coke bottles.Michael imagined running out the door and into the trees beyond the shed; and before he knew what he was doing, turned toward the front of the bus. Jack pounced out of nowhere and threw him to the ground.“Stay the fuck down,” Jack said, a fist raised.Michael blinked, confused, and felt a shadow crawl over his face. They both turned their panic-stricken faces to the window on their left.Julia screamed.The son peered in at them, a dark silhouette with burning, murderous eyes. The bus rocked. He must be standing on the wheel, Jack thought, rolling off the faggot beneath him until he could see the man outside. Jack had never seen eyes so crazy.Dian

FIFTY-EIGHT“Help me! Get over here now!” Jack screamed to the others.Michael couldn’t move. It was as though all the weight he had lost had been piled back on his bones and it was pinning him to the floor. He couldn’t even muster words. All of it, gone.Jack had a hold on the door. The accordion opened inwards and he propped his knee against the vertical hinge. Every muscle in his body rioted against him—as did the young man on the other side of the glass. Jack held firm; he had to. Their lives depended on it, on his strength, on muscles he’d worked hard to sculpt. Pride would keep them safe. Sure, there was a significant part of him that was afraid of the madman getting into the bus, but his adrenalin numbed that emotion’s jagged edge. Jack’s real fire was for the kid on his side of the door. Despite all the chaos and confusion, there was something about that dark haired, pale skinned fella that bristled his nerves. The air of pussy on him—and not the good kind of pussy, mind you

FIFTY-SIXJed lifted his face from the steering wheel, loose teeth on the tip of tongue. He wanted to look at himself in the rearview mirror, only the mirror wasn’t there because the front of his pickup was partially inside the bus.No pain, not really. Only shock. And when he saw blood fanned across the twisted console, Jed wondered where it came from.The door next to him opened from the outside. Bewildered, Jed registered the sensation of sunlight spilling over flesh. He bathed in the warmth for half a moment, and in its fleetingness felt wonderful.“No,” was all he managed to utter before his father pulled him from the truck. Jed hadn’t been wearing a seatbelt. Pulled free, he became aware of the erection tented in his jeans. He thumped on the ground as his father’s face loomed overhead.“Stupid boy!”Wes stared down at his son: face a welt with slits for eyes. A part of him wanted to flog him like a child for being so foolish, whilst another longed to drag Jed into his arms