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SAbrINA

M y next game is going to be carnival themed. The graphics will be an explosion of color and the action will be fast paced. The storyline and the rest of the details still need to be ironed out but I’m attached to the idea of a post-apocalyptic premise.

Perhaps this is the very last carnival on earth and the players are trying to enjoy some harmless fun and forget about all the outside threats that await beyond the carnival lights.

There’s a long way to go in order to flesh out the idea but I’ll leave that for some other time. Tonight belongs to Monte.

We’re holding hands as we walk the carnival grounds. Every attraction has a considerable line but this only adds to the fun. We’re surrounded by happy energy and by people having a good time.

“You can still change your mind,” Monte says after we’ve waited in the Ferris Wheel line for twenty minutes. Our turn is next.

I’m not crazy about heights. And theme park rides have never appealed to me very much.

“That would feel like a crime,” I say. “The Ferris Wheel is the carnival’s star attraction. Walking right past it would be like visiting New York for the first time and refusing to see the Statue of Liberty. But don’t laugh at me if I close my eyes and clutch the safety bar for dear life.”

Monte pulls me close and curls his arms around my waist. “Clutch me instead,” he suggests. “I’m stronger than the damn safety bar and I’ll never let you fall.”

The thrill of being held by him never fades.

Yes, I’m sure he really is stronger than the safety bar. He’s so freaking strong. Monte carries me on his back as if I’m a bag of air, which I definitely am not.

My arm brushes the hard lump of the gun on his hip. His t-shirt is long enough and baggy enough to hide it from view but weapons are prohibited here. If he’s spotted by security, he’ll probably be in hot water. But I don’t bother to tell him what he already knows. Monte has little respect for rules and he’ll only laugh.

The little gondola contraption that will carry us to the top of the wheel seems absurdly rickety but I feel much better when Monte climbs in beside me and drapes an arm securely around my body. It’s impossible to feel nervous when I’m with him, even as we’re lifted into the air, higher and higher after every brief pause of the ride.

“Are you cold?” Monte asks.

A little bit. I should have brought a sweater. The temperature around here is significantly cooler than a city summer night. But up here I can taste the first hint of fall. I love the autumn with its vibrant colors and Halloween fun. And then comes the holiday season, which is always a special kind of magic in New York City. I understand why people come from all over the world to see it. Monte and I are already planning to visit Colorado. I wouldn’t miss Jane’s first Christmas for anything. Then Daisy’s baby is due in February.

There’s so much to look forward to and I get to be with the man I adore.

“I’m not cold,” I say and snuggle closer to him.

How could I possibly be cold when his arms are around me?

We’re nearly at the pinnacle of the Ferris Wheel. The brash carnival lights are an oasis in the darkness. Though the full moon shines, the stunning scenery in the Catskill Mountain region is all hidden from view.

“We should come back to the cabin in October,” I say to Monte. “I’m sure it’s spectacular when all the leaves change color.”

“It is,” he agrees and tips my chin up to give me a kiss.

My heart thuds against the wall of my chest. “I love you, Monte.”

A scream of laughter pierces the night from somewhere below. The tinkling music of the carousel fills the air.

The soft look on Monte’s face is mine alone. He looks at no one else this way. I’m a lucky girl.

“I love you too, Sabrina,” he says and the Ferris Wheel lurches even closer to the top.

The moon is so bright and massive it’s almost believable that I could reach out my arm and pluck it from the sky. We’re high in the air but I’m not nervous at all, not afraid to look down.

I can see the parking lot and the game booths and the crowd waiting in line below. My eyes catch on a figure, standing apart and looking up. He’s wearing dark clothes and he’s too far for me to see the features of his face but it seems like he’s staring at us.

This, of course, is my imagination. He doesn’t look familiar at all. Monte never mentioned having any friends in the area. The man probably knows someone else who is riding the Ferris Wheel. That’s why he’s looking up here.

But I cannot explain why the sight of him makes me so uneasy, or why he stirs some inner instinct attuned to threats.

Our gazes lock over a significant distance, or at least I think they do. The way he lowers his head in haste probably has nothing to do with me, nor does the fact that he begins rapidly walking in the opposite direction until he disappears into a swarm of people.

The Ferris Wheel begins moving again and that fleeting sense of dread disappears. However, I’m glad when we finally reach the bottom and my feet are back on solid ground and I’m holding Monte’s hand again.

We visit the game booths and I win a heart-shaped keychain when I successfully toss a golf ball into a narrow bottle. Monte aces the shooting games and he tells me to pick which of the hanging plush toys I want. I choose a pink cat. It matches my dress.

But when we step away from the booth, a figure hovers at the corner of my eye. I turn my head and see a man’s broad back retreating. He’s dark-haired and wearing a dark jacket. There’s nothing remarkable about him. It’s only because I remember the man watching us on the Ferris Wheel that I continue to stare until he vanishes.

“Want to leave soon?” Monte says.

“Yeah.” I squeeze his hand. “I think I’ve had my fill of funnel cakes and creaky rides. Thank you for bringing me.”

He pulls me in for a kiss and then hands me my prize pink cat, which I’ve already named Cupcake.

“Let’s take a walk when we get back to the cabin,” he says.

“In the dark?”

He grins. “I’ll carry you.”

“You’ve got yourself a date.” I pull on his hand as we reach the parking lot. “As long as I can grab a sweater first.”

“Brina, I encourage you to grab anything you want.”

“That sounds highly suggestive.”

“It’s supposed to.”

He’s not expecting me to reach out and tickle his belly and he cracks up with laughter.

We’re both distracted, laughing, having too much fun, when a group of teenage boys runs right into us, whooping and shouting. One of them snatches Cupcake right out of my hand and takes off.

“Hey!” Monte shouts and chases after the kid, weaving between cars and carnival revelers.

“Monte, come back!” While I appreciate the chivalry, I don’t want him fighting some teenager over a stuffed toy. But he doesn’t hear me. He’s already gone.

I’m standing in a wide dirt aisle between rows of cars and craning my neck for a glimpse of Monte. A car honks at my back and I step out of the way to let it pass.

Just when I’m about to call Monte’s phone, he reappears. He’s marching through the darkness and he’s grinning. He holds up Cupcake in victory.

He’s completely focused on me. That’s why doesn’t see what I’m seeing.

The man is the same man who watched us from the Ferris Wheel. I didn’t see his face then and I don’t see it now because he has covered it with a black ski mask but I know it’s him. He’s like a wraith bred from the darkness and he’s staring at Monte. I know what he’s going to do before he does it and my reaction is instant.

It’s an understatement to say I’m not a fast runner. My best effort at running is more like a breezy trot that a turtle could probably outpace.

I’ve read that panic does wild things to people. That’s nothing compared to what love does. For the first time in my life I can run like the wind. The distance between me and Monte shrinks to ten feet. He skids to a halt, confused and alarmed as to why I’m barreling his way with the speed of an Olympic sprinter.

The man in the ski mask has also moved, stealthily closing in. He wants to make sure he doesn’t miss. He raises his arm. A split second later, I crash right into Monte’s chest.

A single gunshot rings out. Being shot doesn’t feel like you might expect. There’s a sense that I’ve been punched from behind, then the shock of understanding it wasn’t a punch at all.

Three more shots crack through the air and these are much closer to my ear. Monte has fired his gun. He’s an excellent shot. I trust that he has aimed well.

And he must have succeeded in taking down our attacker because he’s no longer looking in that direction. He’s looking down at me. The horror on his face breaks my heart. I’m so sorry to be the cause and yet I’m glad that I’m the one who got hit instead of him.

“No no no, Brina, NO!” He cradles me as my legs give out.

Monte swore he would never let me fall and he doesn’t. We sink to the ground together.

A few people scream. Over Monte’s shoulder, I can see the Ferris Wheel lights. I’m surprised to look down and see blood spreading on the front of my dress. I could have sworn I was shot from the back. I’m not sure why there’s a growing stain a couple of inches beneath my right shoulder.

But now comes the pain, sharp and searing hot. I think pain might be good at a time like this. If I’m in pain, then that means I’m still here.

A man’s commanding voice takes charge in the background and he orders everyone to stand back.

Monte examines me with frantic desperation, trying to assess the damage. He rips his shirt off and presses it to the wound but he’s bleeding too. There’s a small hole in his upper left arm and this suddenly becomes a much bigger deal to me than my own suffering.

“They hurt you,” I say and try to reach for him but I can’t move my arm.

“Brina.” His face crumples.

Sirens begin to shriek.

The Ferris Wheel keeps turning.