The Sleeper Cells: A Terrorism Story

Chapter 21: Shot

Kennedy's empty hands show she lost everything too. Kris gives her his second gun; he keeps the automatic he snatched from a dead sleeper.

"Can you..." Kris starts to ask me if I can go in with just a knife.

"Yes. I can. Let's go," I interrupt. Seeing my mom, then the fire as the sleepers attacked did something to me. All anxiety is gone. It's about making it out alive now. Nothing will stop me.

We decide to use the closest house. It's the least burned out of the neighborhood. It has a nice porch extending from the south wall. Most importantly, there are many exits to this place. If we get surprises, we need to escape quickly. Besides it all, the color of the house reminds me of mine. It reminds me of the way my parents and I would sit on our back porch playing board games together, letting our eyes adjust as the sun went down.

We enter through the back. Owen taps on the glass door testing it for something.

"You okay there?" I ask him.

"It looked loose or something. I don't know," he laughs as he opens the unlocked door for us.

In the kitchen, Mika grabs the sink handle and closes her eyes. Will there be water? She turns the knob timidly, afraid of disappointment. Water flows from the silver fixture. She puts her head under the water and drinks straight from the sink.

"That's what I'm talking about!" Kennedy claps her hands.

We all line up to quench our thirst. Kris pulls glasses from the fancy cabinet and sets them out for us. It's finally a break from running. A break from shooting. A break from someone getting taken away.

Owen grabs Mika and pulls her close. "I really like you people. I really do."

"I love you guys," Mika says.

I love them all, too. But I think there's one person in this group I love a little more than the others.

__________

I'm sitting on the back porch. I'm rocking back and forth in a cushioned rocking chair when Kennedy opens the glass door behind me. She's clean and is wearing new clothes. I can smell a new perfume on her the second she steps out.

"I picked you out something," she says as she lays clean clothes on the metal table next to me. She lifts another wooden rocking chair and sits.

"You know, you're doing things to me," I tell Kennedy. Her beautiful dimples at the corners of her smile fit right on the edge of her blushing cheeks.

"What do you mean?" she asks me.

"I mean you do something to me. Something about the way you look at me. You're no Lindsey, that's for sure."

"I'm no Lindsey." She lets a cute short laugh out and pushes her chair back.

"I'm sorry; it's too much, right?"

"No. I'm listening to you," she pulls the sleeves of her new pink sweater over her hands. She pauses and looks at the ground, "your voice... has a magic to it."

"It doesn't always have magic in it. You come around and make my heart do scary things inside my chest." I can't believe I'm saying what I'm saying. I can't just hold things in anymore. Any of us could be gone any second. You can't walk away wishing you said more. Wishing will haunt you. And I'm not going to be haunted because I didn't speak up. "I'm not letting you walk away. You're already running through my head."

She leans her chair forward. I can't stop myself from grabbing her hand.

"Don't let go, Vince."

"Let go? I wouldn't."

Kennedy and I stand at the same time. She fits perfectly in my arms. I rub my hands through her hair to pull it from her face and brush my lips across hers.

"You're the cure to every drop of pain in me," she says.

"Pain? I didn't know you had it. You're too whimsical for it. Pain can't touch you. You won't let it!"

She steps away from me, sits on the table and throws the clean clothes at me, "okay, philosopher. Now, go get out of those nasty things and put on something nice. I think we're leaving soon. The border is very close...and we need to leave." She's talking about the sleepers after us. She's right.

Kris opens the glass door and steps outside. He smirks at me and crosses his arms. A look of acceptance with a hint of pride. It's the same look my father would have given me. I've seen that face many times.

The atmosphere changed when he walked out here. From a loving pink to a happy yellow. Every single one of us just has something special in us. Owen has a green endurance. He's like the evergreen trees never losing their leaves. Mika is like a vibrant red. She brings this playfulness to everyone—a playfulness we need. Kris reminds me of a yellow light. He's not go, and he's not stop. He's that mixture. He's cautious and keeps us alive. And Kennedy, maybe it's because of the way I feel about her...but she reminds me of a pink cloud. She's just so amazing around me. She's angelic now.

Then, something behind us catches my uncle's eye. His smile turns to anger; to a panic I haven't seen in him before. A gun goes off. The sound pelleting through the afternoon like an unwanted travesty. Blood shoots from Kris, small drops splattering the wood below us. His body jerks as he spins and hits the ground.