When Darkness Ends (Moments in Boston #3) - Marni Mann Page 0,62

focus on his drawing—the details of this important, as it helped us figure out the exact spot of ignition—Alix was calling again.

As a paramedic, if she hadn’t already been on the schedule for today, I imagined she would have been called in to ground zero. I was sure she was phoning to get information on the bomber, probably on her way to the hospital with an ambulance full of wounded.

I didn’t have time to answer those questions.

They needed me here, in this room, paying attention.

I sent her to voice mail again, my eyes back on the board, the anxiousness in my stomach heightening as the FBI director began circling the placement he was estimating as the location of the first bomb. Once that was determined, footage could be reviewed to look for unusual activity and movement, bringing us one step closer to finding the suspect.

My phone vibrated, this time with a text message.

Alix: CALL ME RIGHT NOW.

There was something about her words that set off an alarm inside my body.

The urgency.

The demand.

Things I’d never seen from Alix before.

I glanced up when there was commotion in the hallway—it happened every time the door opened, someone coming or going. Now, it was from two agents making their way inside, finding seats behind the large table, and again as I rushed out the already-open door.

Once I was outside the room, I found Alix’s number and connected the call, holding the phone to my ear.

Within a ring, she answered, her voice coming out as a gasp. “As-she.”

“Alix? Are you all right? I’m in the middle of—”

“As-she!”

She sounded worse, a mix of weeping and hyperventilating.

I rushed down the hallway several paces, finding a bare wall to push my back against. “What’s wrong?”

“A-sh-sh-e,” she stuttered, and I was hardly able to make out what she was saying. “H-he’s gone.”

I pressed the phone even harder against my ear, making sure there was no space in between the speaker and my skin. “I don’t know what you mean. Who’s gone?”

“Dy-lan.”

My heart lodged into the back of my throat; my free hand flattened against the wall to hold my balance. The weight in my legs felt so heavy; they didn’t want to hold me anymore.

“What do you mean, he’s gone?”

“We were at the m-marathon, and he was st-standing at the finish-sh line.” She tried to inhale, but her lungs wheezed. “I-I held him in m-my arms, Ashe. H-he’s gone.”

My back lowered as my feet gave out, landing me on my ass. “No, Alix.” The room was too bright, too loud. I placed my hand over my eyes to block some of it out. “Tell me this isn’t fucking true.” My stomach was revolting, my heart stopping while I waited for her answer.

“When I-I held him, he was already d-dead.” Her voice quieted, but there was no mistaking what she had said. “I-I rocked h-him until they to-ok him from me-e. Oh God, A-Ashe. Oh God.”

My hand left my eyes and clenched into a fist, pounding on the floor. “No.” My fingers were threatening to break. “No, Alix. Nooo!”

I couldn’t process this.

I couldn’t comprehend it.

I couldn’t believe it.

My best friend … couldn’t be gone.

No.

“Ashe!” she screamed, like she was fighting for her life. “I s-still have his blood o-on my hands. I-I can’t wash it off-f.” She gasped in a breath. “Help me, A-Ashe. H-help me!”

My eyes dripped, and I swiped it away before I punched the floor again. “No.”

“Every time I-I look down, I see h-him. His lifeless body. Those b-beautiful eyes closed. Oh God-d, Ashe. I c-can’t …”

My teeth ground together, the tightness in my chest expanding to the rest of my body.

I couldn’t feel.

I couldn’t think.

I couldn’t …

My eyes shut, squeezing together, the air not moving well through my lungs. “No.”

“You’re the first person I-I’ve called. I haven’t even t-told his parents.” She let out a cry that was even louder than the others had been.

“Alix …” I had no breath. No thoughts. I was a pit of emptiness, trying to work my way through this news. “No.”

“I have t-to go relive this all over again when I-I tell his mom and d-dad.”

“I’ll do it.” I paused, trying to swallow. “I’ll call them.”

“I was-s there, holding their son. It-t feels like it sh-should come from m-me.” She took several breaths, almost choking after each one. “Good-bye, Ashe.”

The phone went dead before I could tell her I was leaving for the hospital, to be there for her, my cell now dropping from my hand. As it hit the