Page 3 of Day Death (Brutes of Bristlebrook Trilogy)

Beau

D om’s fingertips dig into my neck. His nails are trimmed, blunted, and his wide palm presses against my nape. I can feel the graze of every callus. He’s real and grounding in a world that feels suddenly... strange.

The podcast is ringing in my ears, sending absurd images through my mind. Infernos and bursts of gunfire. The Bennett farm swallowed by faerie mists.

My hands shake against Dom’s shirt.

It was Brooke’s birthday yesterday. Bailey made a drunken punch out of peaches from Brooke’s farm, and Dad sucked it down like a horse at a trough. He spent half the night pinching Mama’s ass when he thought we weren’t looking, and the other half staring at us all with a wet shine to his eyes.

That was just hours ago.

I can still taste the boozy peaches kicking me in the back of the teeth.

Dom’s gaze is burnt honey, bitter and dark as he holds me against his forehead. The raw fluorescent lights are harsh, glaring into the midnight murk. They grind into the tired lines on his face and slash over his damp cheeks.

I can’t do this.

His eyes are rubbed red, and I just can’t . It’s all unreal. Surreal.

But Dom . . . Dom is too real.

I wrench out of his grip, fumbling for the truck’s handle, but my fingers are numb, and I can’t get a grip on it. That’s a symptom. Shock, most probably—or a stroke, but all considered, I’m guessing it’s shock. I manage to get the door open, and the smell hits me like a slap to the face.

Cinnamon and apples.

I look over to the passenger seat. The apple pie stares at me, crisp and golden, the Saran wrap sweating because Mama packaged it up right out of the oven.

“Share it with your friends, hon, don’t eat it all yourself. You’re getting soft in the middle. Oh, what now? Don’t you look at me like that, Beth, he’s doughy! It don’t make him any less handsome. Girls love a bit of pooch. Now, go on, hon. You give Dommie a kiss for me.”

I’m frozen. The door’s still cracked, and Dom pulls it wide open. “What are you doing?”

He’s gentle, and the wrongness starts to suck the truck out from under me. Voices filter in around us, disembodied and wispish, and cars peel out of the parking lot with desperate, jarring screeches.

“I’m going to get them.” I yank at the door.

Dom doesn’t budge. “Can it with the truck, Beau. There’s nothing for you there. Not anymore.”

He’s hard. Clipped.

Real .

The pie is real.

What he’s saying is real .

Panic tramples me. I punch around and shove him back. “No. No . Don’t you do this. They’re our family, Dom.”

He doesn’t let me push him far. When I stagger, he grips my biceps and anchors me against the truck’s frame, holding me like I’m ash that’s about to crumple in his hands.

His red-rimmed eyes shine in the moonlight. “I know.”

My pulse pounds. It’s too fast, and my deep breath comes in shuddery. More symptoms I don’t much care to do anything about right now.

“They need me.” The broken whisper slips out like a plea.

Dom punches out a hard, harsh breath. “No, Beau. They don’t.”

Immediately, he flinches, like he didn’t mean to say it. But he did. The weight of his words crushes the night air.

They don’t need me.

They don’t . . .

Dom’s holding me up before I’ve realized I’m sagging, and I press my head against his chest. Black edges my vision. He turns his head, and his hard exhale breezes over my hair.

“I’m sorry, Beau.” he whispers, and the choked edge to it makes my eyes burn. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

The breeze whips us, and the frantic sounds are cut down in the swirl. It’s going to spirit us off. It drags the haunted scent around.

Cinnamon and apples. Everything is cinnamon and apples.

It’s just not right.

I just saw them.

I stagger back from Dom. Away from apple pie and my dead mama’s voice.

“We have thirty. You ready to... Is that Beau?” Jayk stops hard in the doorway, staring at me while people crowd behind him. He pales, searching my face like it’s not the world that’s gone mad. He’s looking at me like I’m strange. Like I just walked out of my family’s grave.

I wonder if he can see their ash cloud at my back.

I shudder.

Mistress Hallie shoves Jayk out of the doorway, and he scowls down at her. When he turns back to me, his jaw flexes... and I can’t help but think that he’s the odd one. Relief is stark, naked on his face, and it doesn’t fit him. Jayk is all insults and bad attitude. He doesn’t worry about any of us. I don’t care how many times he’s covered my ass. He’s just my co-worker. On a good day, he’s my co-worker.

He’s not my family.

Jayk stares at me a minute more, then nods to me once.

Unnerved, I look up at the sky, and it all swirls away again. There are words, sounds —Dom barking orders, Jayk growling impatiently as the civilians flood out of Darkside—but they’re airy and insubstantial.

Swallowing, I shudder. How did this happen?

I turn back to my pickup, and the pie stares back at me.

Cinnamon and apples.

“Oh, darlin’, really? You have to go already? Next time just bring Dommie with you so you don’t have to rush back. You know I get heartsick every time you leave.”

Dom’s wide hand comes down on my shoulder. He turns me sharply, his brows slamming down. “Beau... you hearing me? Can you.. . ”

White noise.

Slowly, I blink at him, then I breathe in more fresh-baked home. My mama pats my cheek after I kiss her goodbye.

Painfully, I pull free of Dom’s grip. I walk over to the truck and slam the driver-side door shut.

The sweet, wafting scent dies.

I lean back against the truck, closing my eyes.

“Beau? Beau . Fuck.” Dom’s voice lifts. “Okay, everyone, we’re starting a convoy. Beau and I are taking point. Jayk and Thomas, you’re center. Lucky, pull up the rear. We’re heading for the Howards Evacuation Center. It’s about thirty miles outside of base. Load up your cars, we’re heading out in ten. Jayk, Lucky, Thomas, here.”

I breathe out, slowly, trying to soothe my jumbled thoughts, and the air floats through my body like it’s not even there.

I was listening to a podcast .

The urge to get back in my truck and drive home has me by the throat.

But they don’t need me.

My hands shake.

How can they not need me? Bailey was tearing me a new one just yesterday for not visiting more. Last year, I was deployed ten months out of twelve. They do need me—and I haven’t been here .

No. It’s just not right. The world doesn’t just end . It’s a ghost story, a spook, a boogeyman. Brooke used to tease me with nightmares until I wept like a baby, and way older than I’m proud to admit. Beth used to let me hide in her room and didn’t say a single word on it. This is like that. That’s all it is. It can’t be real.

It’s too . . . big.

Other memories start flicking through my brain like flipping pages. Shutting down that nuclear facility in the freezing ass crack of winter. Assault op after assault op. The bodies, ripped apart by gunfire, laid out on dusty floors. Tile. Bloodstained snow. The full regiment hitting two airfields that were so loaded up, they could have wiped out the west coast. The rumors of SEAL deployments, Berets, of everyone moving . It’s been tense. Hot. No one’s far from their phones.

A chill skates down my spine as the wind buffets me against the truck.

The weapons we’ve destroyed line themselves up in my mind.

That one for Bailey.

That one for Brooke.

Beth.

My dad.

My mom.

The next breath I suck in nearly guts me.

It’s all too big... but that doesn’t mean it’s not true.

“Does anyone have reception? Please .” A woman sobs, and I try to control my shivers.

God, how could it all be for nothing? How many did we miss ?

I trusted our bloody, awful work. I trusted there was a reason. I trusted our government. Our people. This was all meant to keep my people safe.

But now?

What was it all for?

“ . . . in the truck?”

I lift my head, numb. Dom, Jayk, Lucky, Thomas, and, strangely, Jasper, are gathered around. Thomas grimaces, avoiding my eyes, and Dom’s mouth is a tense line. He’s watching me like he’s waiting for an answer.

I didn’t even realize he’d been talking.

“Gear, Beau. What are you packing?” He’s brusque, all captain again.

I shake my head.

“Rifle? Bug out bag?”

It’s a muddy night. Looking up, I can’t see a single star, just cloud after cloud. Too many souls stuck in the sky.

Dom blows out an impatient breath. “Beau, do you have?—”

“I was going home, Dom. I don’t have...” I have one duffel, packed with clothes my mama washed and ironed for me before I left. Because I might be thirty years old, but there’s no way she could ever let me leave with un-ironed boxer briefs. “I have my pistol. My uniform...” My throat sticks. My dad’s hand clasps my wrist as he hugs me goodbye. “I was going home.”

The clouds press together, choking out the night.

Car doors open and close. Civilians shout at each other. So much noise.

I just want to go home.

There’s a tense silence around our circle, and then Jasper clears his throat. He drops the anxious hand from his forehead and sighs. “I have most of my remaining belongings packed in my car. I was intending to drive to my summer home, Bristlebrook, in the morning. There may be some useful items in there, but you will likely be a better judge of that. I believe I have a first aid kit.” He gives Dom a stiff smile. “Though no firearms, I’m afraid.”

Lucky looks up from his rifle, startled. “Wait, you’re moving?”

Jasper tenses, then lifts his brows, cool and distant in a silent yes , and?

Thomas clears his throat loudly, and Dom smacks the back of his head.

Lucky glances at them, shifting. The gravel crunches under his feet. “I— You weren’t even going to say goodbye?”

The silence is deafening. A low, heavy ache cramps my stomach.

When the awkward silence stretches too long, Lucky lets out a strangled, casual laugh. “To say goodbye to... to any of us, I mean. You weren’t going to... You didn’t have a going away party, or anything. I— Why are you leaving? Is... is Soomin going with you?” Suddenly, his face turns deathly white. “Oh, fuck , Jasper. Soomin. We need to go find her! Why are we just standing here, we should?—”

“Soomin was in Houston,” Jasper cuts in, crisp and with a warning finality.

I drag in a deep, bleak breath.

Before the silence can stretch again, Jayk walks over to the truck beside mine. He flips the trunk and leans in.

“I’ve got two rifles, three pistols. Ammo. A fuck-ton, give or take. Some frags, C4—bitch me out later, Dom, we’re going to need it—bug out bag, a few cases of bottled water. Camping gear.” He scowls. “That’s for one. I’m not sharing.”

So many things, and none of it matters. We’re too late. We’re outmatched. Outplayed.

And my family is dead.

They don’t need me.

Jasper is staring in pale bemusement at Jayk, but Dom just nods. “Good. Pass them around. Thomas?”

Thomas lifts a tatted shoulder. “Just a rifle. One pistol. Bug out bag. That’s it, sorry, Cap.”

“Fine. Lucky?” Dom ducks into the truck to get my pistol out of the glove compartment.

Apples assault me, and I shiver.

Jayk pulls two rifles out of his truck locker, and Lucky looks between him and Dom, his eyes big and wide. “What about me? I didn’t bring anything!”

Jayk, Dom, and Thomas exchange a look, nonplussed.

Lucky backs up defensively, jostling me, but I barely notice. Two more cars rip out of the lot.

Off to go find their own people’s ash clouds.

Lucky points at Dom. “Oh, no way. I am not the problem here. I was coming here to get laid. Who the hell brings an arsenal to a kink club ?” He looks between them, tsk ing. “You guys have problems. Way too paranoid. Jasper, write that down.”

Standing stiffly to one side, rubbing his forehead, Jasper gives him a flat look. His hair’s a mess, and his blacksnake is uncoiled by his side, the delicate fall dragging limply in the gravel. Jasper doesn’t seem to care that it’s snagging.

Strange.

“Things have been going to shit for years,” Jayk sneers at Lucky. He tosses me a rifle, and my hands come up to catch it before I even register the throw. “You’re fucking stupid not to prepare.”

The rifle bites my palms.

Hard. Cold.

Real .

“Yeah, Jayky boy’s right on this one. They might not have said we were on red alert, but as if it wasn’t obvious. You didn’t think you might want to protect your ass, just in case?” Thomas laughs, giving Lucky a good-natured shove. His hands are shaking, but no one says anything. “Or were you just counting on me to protect you?”

Lucky snorts, shoving him back. “Hey, I was prepared.” He tugs a foil packet out of his back pocket, then holds it in between two fingers. “My ass was protected all night long, baby.”

He flicks the condom at Jayk. His snicker cuts off a second later when a tossed rifle hits him hard in the chest.

Thomas laughs again, and it’s too damn loud, like he’s trying to eat up all the strangeness in the air with the sound.

I drag in another slow breath, disoriented. They’re just out of step, and the uncanniness sends prickles up my spine. They’re marionettes, not quite lifelike, and they’re still standing there, acting like this is normal. Like it’s a normal call out. Normal orders.

Don’t they see how strange that is?

Thomas walks over to his car, still grinning. Laughing off-key, Lucky flips off Jayk.

And someone screams like God just ripped their soul to shreds.

Every hair on the back of my neck stands on end.

Things aren’t normal right now.

They aren’t normal right now.

The last star winks out, and I turn my rifle over in my hands.

Dom tries to catch my eye, smiling slightly, like he wants to pretend, too... but as soon as our eyes meet, he flinches. Just for a moment, I see the panic snake through him, but he chokes it out. His face closes down, and he turns, tucking my pistol into his belt. Thankfully, he shuts the car door again.

Then he’s moving. Barking orders to civilians. Snapping them into motion. Normal .

Almost.

I don’t bother to help. There’s no point, not this time. It’s not like a few extra weapons or a few extra orders will make any difference when whole cities are gone. Bases. All our meaningful intelligence and decision makers.

It’s Code Alpha.

We’re fucked six ways from Sunday no matter what we do.

God. Half a day. That’s all it was. I was off with the faeries for half a day, and my world disappeared.

Lucky kicks back against the truck beside me. He still smells like sex, but it doesn’t matter. Why should anything matter anymore?

“Okay, but seriously, how am I the only one who wasn’t packing?” he complains. “This doesn’t feel right. I’m clearing out the base when we get there; this can’t happen again. My arsenal is going to be way bigger than Jayk’s.”

Rolling his eyes, Jayk slams a magazine into Lucky’s hands, then heads back to his truck. Dom is still shouting, rounding people up, and the wind slices at us.

Lucky hands me a magazine, and after a moment, I take it.

My rifle is familiar. In a fast, snapping moment, I have it loaded, deadly cold and charged. Muscle memory. Real, beyond shock or strangeness. They made killing an instinct.

I wonder how many people I’ve killed now.

I wonder if it’s more than I’ve saved.

I was a good, God-fearing man, once. Church every Sunday, and I minded my cussing. But in the end, I sold my soul for this gun. I sold it to my country to protect my family. But I should have known better.

I should have been drinking punch and making fat, happy babies.

Tears burn hot in the back of my throat, turning the world misty and silver again. God, help me . I should have been with them. This whole time, I should have been with them.

I should have died with them.

“They hit LA,” Lucky says suddenly.

My lips part over a soft, wet breath.

Why couldn’t I have just died with them?

“It’s fine, though. Don’t worry,” he assures me. His eyes are searching, but they’re not seeing. “My folks... they weren’t there. I’m sure of it.”

The cremated sky doesn’t move anymore. It’s silent. Blurry. God isn’t helping me or anyone today. Maybe they’ve had enough of all of us.

I know I have.

Another tear slips over my nose, and I sniff it back, but too many follow. I can’t see anymore, but it doesn’t matter. My rifle is loaded, hard and heavy, and it feels like it should. I can check it blind.

Lucky glances over at me, and his eyes burn the side of my face.

“You... you agree, right?” he finally whispers. “That they made it out?”

My hands pause on the safety, and what he’s saying breaks through my foggy brain. My eyes sink shut. There’s a dullness deep in my chest, and it’s spreading through my insides.

He doesn’t want me to answer that.

When I don’t reply, he looks away again, and I hear him swallow. “I think they made it. They’re okay. It’s going to be okay.”

Is there even a point to living in a world when our families are gone?

When family is gone?

Lucky presses his shoulder against mine, and he leans into me. His voice is soft when he says, “Maybe... maybe your folks made it out, too. I mean, you did. It’s possible, right?”

It’s too much.

My heart is dying.

I walk away, not even sure where I’m going. I’m not sure there’s anywhere to go anymore. It’s all swirling around me. The world is disappearing.

My gun is so, so cold.

Certain.

I stop, looking down at it as I cry.

I can almost see all the blood spilling over my hands. All the red tears God wept over me and my choices.

“Give me the gun, Beaumont.” Jasper’s voice is careful, but it comes from so far away. It’s almost lost in the swirl.

The gun bites into my palms. “It’s not right, Jasper. None of this is right.”

“Of course it isn’t.”

“How are they all doing that?” I sob. “Dom just ordering people around. They’re making jokes . It’s all pretend. They’re playing pretend.”

“It’s how they cope. There’s no normal way to behave right now. Please give me the gun, Beaumont.”

He’s swirling away.

Or maybe I am.

“It’s done. We failed. They’re all dead, and we’re all ghosts. You just don’t see it yet. The world disappeared. We can’t get it back.”

I can’t see anything, but the gun is in my hands. It’s such a familiar weight. I loaded it so carefully, with more bullets that are only taking me further from my family. I’m already damned. In this life or the next, I’m never going to see them again.

Jasper’s loafers crunch. “The others understand what’s happened, but there are still people here. People they can help. They’re doing what they can. We’re not all dead. Not yet.”

I look down the barrel of the rifle. It’s dark and strange inside. “We’re going to disappear too.”

“ Give me the gun , Beaumont .”

My hands shake, that heat scalding the back of my throat. My finger finds metal, and I sob. “I want to go home, Jasper. Please, I just want to go home.”

Jasper turns sharply, shouting like a whipcrack. “Dominic!”

Hot tears slip over my cheeks.

His hand bites into my shoulder, cold and firm. It slows the swirl enough to see his dark, steady eyes. They’re stained wet too.

But they’re as certain as my gun.

“I know this feels impossible, and that your whole world is crumbling,” he says in a low, urgent voice, “but, Beaumont, it’s only so because you love so very, very deeply. It’s an exceptional thing. What you feel for your family is agonizing and it is beautiful . And very soon, there are going to be far too many people who need your medicine, and your care... and who will be in desperate need of a heart like yours in this world.”

Dom appears behind Jasper, corpse pale, his pupils blown wide in fear, and my heart splinters apart on sight. I break, weeping, shaking from head to toe.

Slowly, gently, Jasper pulls the rifle from my grip.

I let him take it.

His breath is shaky, but his hand stays steady on my shoulder, and he squeezes hard.

“You’re not a ghost, my dear friend. None of us are. Ghosts don’t hurt like this. That is a uniquely human misery.”

I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe without them.

“You son of a bitch,” Dom shouts, storming up on me.

He grabs me, I think. I don’t care. I sob into his shoulder.

“You son of a bitch,” he repeats, shaking as hard as me. “You stupid son of a bitch!”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I choke out between floods of tears.

“ Are you?”

I turn into his neck. “My whole family. They’re all... Dom, they’re all?—”

Dom grips the back of my hair painfully, holding me fiercely. “ I’m your family. Beau, I’m your family. You don’t get to go anywhere, because I need you , okay?”

The world is done .

But his tears are splashing me, too. Burning. Real. Dom is real.

“No, I can’t. Please don’t. Don’t you put that on me.” I try to catch my breath, but it’s too far gone. “Please don’t put that on me.”

Dom’s voice lowers, breaking. “You’re my brother. You’re the only real family I ever had. You’re the only one I can’t lose. I need you. I need you for this. I can’t do it alone. I know you lost everything today, but you still have me. You always have me.”

I cry into him, holding on to him like a lifeline.

There’s no gun. No pie. No world.

Only Dom.

Until there’s not.

“Give them a moment, all of you. They need space.”

A shaky voice replies, “Was he really going to?—”

“Just shut up, Lucky,” Jayk mutters, and strangely, he’s even shakier. “All of this is fucked.”

How am I meant to do this? I don’t know how to do this.

I only realize I’ve whispered it when Dom growls, “We do our jobs. There are other civilians, other moms and kids, and they’re going to be scared out of their mind. They need us. We need to protect them.”

I pull back, shaking my head. “I can’t do it. How can I be strong for these people, Dom? I can’t?—”

Dom hits my shoulder, hard, cutting me off. “Yes, you can. You can take it. I can take it. We can because we have to.” His eyes blaze. “Someone has to carry the load, Beau. That’s what a soldier does. We carry that fucking load so they don’t have to.” He grips my shirt, and his jaw works. “And when you can’t carry it, I’ll carry you, too.”

I squeeze a hand over my eyes, swallowing down my tears. “That’s your dad talking. And he’s going to get you killed.”

Dom lets me go. “The Colonel is a stronger man than I’ll ever be—and we’ll all be grateful for it in the end. He might be the only one who can fix this.”

Fix this.

It’s so bitter, the worst pretending yet, that I almost want to laugh.

He wants to carry me, all of my grief for me, all of everyone’s, and he still doesn’t see it.

There’s no fixing this.

But he still wants to try.

I look around. Jasper. Jayk. Lucky. Thomas. They’re all here, looped around us, cutting us off from the civilians, giving us privacy.

Protecting us.

In an instant, I see more than peaches and pie.

I see Thomas dragging me back under cover right before a frag went off. Lucky catcalling me as I skidded over sand dunes. Jayk’s bullets blistering my eardrums as he kept the enemy off me so I could get to our guys. Jasper handing me a tissue as I broke down after Nick died.

I was wrong to call them co-workers.

They’re so much more than that.

“It’s not the family you want, Beau,” Dom says gruffly, “but it’s the one we have.”

Dom.

He’s standing tall, somehow. Still. Even after this, he’s ready to take it all on.

The clouds shift. A soft, bare break in the deadened mass. Six bright, impossible stars wink down.

Six. It’s always been my favorite number.

The number of freckles on my ass.

The number of shots it takes me to pass out.

The number of people in my family.

Old. And new.

I look back down at Dom, at the fear that’s eating at his foundations.

When he finally crumbles under all that pressure he’s putting on himself, he’ll need someone to carry him for a change. Someone to put him back on his feet.

A family.

Slowly, I straighten, walking back over to him.

I’m not making the same mistake again. I’m going to be there for my family. To keep them safe. To live with them... or to die with them. But we’re not going to be apart. Not anymore.

I look around at the others, and one by one, their shoulders relax.

I clasp Dom’s wrist.

“Then let’s see these people safe.”