He was numb. As he stood there, staring at the ground, wanting to take off his tie, he was numb. He was just standing there like a fool. Staring at the hole in the ground. Staring at where they wanted to put Max forever.
It didn't make sense. Max, so bright and vibrant even in her darkest times, seemed to be the epitome of everything alive.
But now she was dead. And they wanted to put her in the dirt.
Around the casket stood a small group. It included Will, Buster, Kendall and a handful of others from the Agency, most of them in forced attendance.
The priest stood at the head of the group, on the far end of the coffin, bible in hand while he spoke verses with charisma.
The coffin. It was long and mahogany. On the top, it was empty. There were no flowers. Not for Max.
He wanted to scream and shout, he wanted to shake that damned priest who was babbling nonsense from the bible.
You never knew her! You never even met her!
Beside him, Jack Kendall stood tall and dignified and quietly supportive. He hadn't said much through the service. Just a soft “Shame.” when Will had first gotten there in a taxi. The tall, salt and pepper man stood with quiet dignity.
Will wanted to kill him. Just how he often wanted to kill himself.
He closed his eyes as the pain washed over him again; like raging waves in a furious ocean.
He was the one who had gotten Max caught up in this mess. He was the one responsible for getting her killed.
But after two weeks of hiding in her suite at her hotel, boozing until he couldn’t tell you what year it was, he needed another target for his hatred.
He had lost Max. She was gone and he couldn’t bring her back.
He closed his eyes.
They put the paddles to her chest, inside the straps of her sports bra, and shocked her. She tensed, her chest stuck up in the air a little, then went back to being still. They worked on her, over and over again, until the man with brown hair shook his head.
“Call it,” he said to the other.
The second man looked at his watch.
“Time of death … four fifteen PM,” he murmured.
Buster came in at that exact moment as they lifted Max up and put the sheet over her head.
Will stood and charged at them furiously. He would make them take the damned sheet off of her, he would make them bring her back.
Buster rushed forward, caught his friend and pinned him against the wall.
“Calm, Will! Calm!” he whispered in Will’s ear.
They took Variable’s body out of the room while he and Buster watched, Will’s chest gone numb.
Slowly, he watched as they wheeled the two bodies out of the room.
The strength left him and he fell back against the wall, slid to the ground.
He looked over to where she had died. It was a massive puddle of blood; both hers and her brother’s.
Buster looked at him as he looked at the blood.
“I love her, Buster,” he murmured.
Buster collapsed against the wall beside him.
