BETHANY

8

Outside the Playroom

Mark sprinted the last few feet, when he heard the sudden clamour coming from the room that Gray had told him about.

Then there was nothing.

Nothing but a cry. The heart-rendering cry of a grown man.

And when Mark walked in there, his heart stopped dead.

Max was kneeling on the floor. His arms were around the naked, bleeding body of his daughter and he was pressing her against his chest and crying, soaking his uniform with blood and shaking with sobs.

And Beth...

God, Beth!

She was... Mark didn't know. Her eyes were closed, she was as white as a ghost and she was covered in blood. She wasn't moving. Mark didn't know if she was breathing.

Mark didn't know if she were alive.

He hurried to Flint's body. He was lying motionless with his broken legs trapped under the chandelier. Mark kicked his gun from his hand and knelt to push two fingers against his throat to feel his pulse. He was alive. But unconscious and unable to hurt anybody, at the moment.

He turned towards Terrin David. He was breathing, softly and raggedly, but he was breathing.

"Max," he finally let out, turning his attention towards him.

But Max didn't even hear him over his sobs.

Mark raised his eyes to the door and lifted his walkie-talkie.

His message reached Felix first.

"Call an ambulance. Hurry."

In the Wilson Home

Quinn sat on the sofa, her head on a pillow in her sister's lap, as they waited for the return of their family. She was breathing lightly, the sound of the TV all but faded background noise. She knew that the others were talking but every noise sounded like it did when she was swimming underwater. Eerie. This was the worst part, she realised. Not the losing of people she loved. Not the watching them go off to fight. Not even the preparation as they geared up for what could be war. No, the worst part was the sitting around waiting. It was the not knowing. The part when they sat waiting for the news that they were okay or the news that they were...that they were dead.

"Quinn."

Quinn jolted upright, looking around wildly, before her eyes connected with those of her husband. "Max," she breathed, getting to her feet and flying at him. Her arms went around his neck as his went around her waist, hugging her close. Hot tears fell onto her bare shoulder and she raised a hand to wipe them away. "You're covered in blood." She realised. Fear rose up in her chest.

"It's not mine." He murmured, his voice hoarse.

Quinn looked at his face, searching. He looked serious and rather solemn, his eyes were puffy, as if he had cried. Cried. Max didn't cry easily. And usually he only cried when they were talking about-

"What..."

"They found Beth."

His words made their way to Quinn's heart before they could reach her brain.

The kitchen started to swirl around her and suddenly her legs felt unstable on the floor. She patted her lips and took a sharp breath. She faintly heard the rustle of the sofa as Danielle stood quickly, April close behind her. Was that a tear already? She couldn't see anything anyway, was she crying? She brought a hand to her cheek to find it wet and burning, as if she had a temperature. "What..." She breathed.