The Wedding Party

Part 69: A Dock

Macey's eyes fluttered open as she lay on the cabin floor, the acrid stench of smoke filling her nostrils. Her heart hammered in her chest, Marc's lifeless body seared into her memory. She forced herself to focus on survival, dragging her battered body across the splintered wood toward the pistol.

"Marc would want me to fight," she thought, blinking back tears.

Her fingers closed around the cold metal of the gun, and she cocked it just as Helena and Braeden burst through the door.

"Jesus, Macey!" Helena gasped, taking in the scene before her. "What happened?"

"Helena, grab the diary from the fire – it's important," Macey rasped, her voice barely a whisper. Braeden's concerned gaze shifted between her and the flames, his protective instincts kicking in.

"Let's get you to the clinic first," he urged, reaching out to help her up.

"No," Macey insisted, gritting her teeth as pain shot through her. "I need to go to the Manor. We don't have time."

"Alright," Helena agreed, nodding with determination. "We'll go together."

Meanwhile, at the docks, Killian was in full control as he led Jaylee, Alanna, and Ashleigh in search of a boat to take. His eyes scanned the area with purpose as he spotted a suitable vessel and fired up the engine.

"Come on, let's get out of here," he called over the roar of the motor.

Alanna hesitated, her gaze locked on the island that had become a living nightmare. With a resolute shake of her head, she refused to leave.

"Go without me," she told Ashleigh, her voice steady. "I can't abandon them now."

Ashleigh exchanged a worried glance with Jaylee but ultimately chose to stay as well. Jaylee's eyes darted back and forth, torn between loyalty to her friends and the desire for escape.

"Damn it," she muttered under her breath, her decision made. "I'm staying too."

As Killian prepared to leave without them, a flash of movement caught Alanna's eye – Ash was sprinting along the dock, desperation etched on her face.

"Killian, look!" Alanna cried out, pointing at Ash.

Without hesitation, Killian snatched up his gun and led the others in pursuit, his own fears momentarily forgotten as they raced toward the unknown danger that awaited them.

The wind whipped around Helena as she stood on the dock, her eyes locked on Macey's face. Her heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of fear and determination fueling her every breath.

"Get on Braeden's boat, Helena," Macey urged, leaning heavily on her good leg. "You need to get to the mainland and find help."

Helena shook her head, her grip tightening on the pistol in her hand. "I can't leave you all behind, not like this."

"Helena, please," Macey insisted, her voice strained with pain. "We don't have time to argue."

Before Helena could respond, the sound of Killian racing towards them made them both jump. His face was flushed with adrenaline, his eyes wide with urgency.

"Ash escaped!" he shouted through the glass. "We need to find her!"

Without waiting for a response, Braeden sprinted down the dock, leaving Helena and Macey alone. Despite her reluctance, Macey passed Helena a second gun, the weight of it heavy in her hands.

"Go," Macey whispered, her eyes pleading. "Please."

With a final nod, Helena turned and followed Braeden, the cold metal of the guns pressing into her palms as she ran. She knew deep down that Macey was right – they needed help, and she was the only one who could get it.

As she raced along the dock, Helena heard a faint sound, like someone struggling. Heart pounding in her ears, she veered off course and discovered Ash lying near a boat. Blood oozed from a stomach wound, staining her hands and pooling beneath her. Ash coughed, blood trickling down the corner of her mouth.

"Who did this to you?" Helena demanded, panic clawing at her insides.

Ash's eyes flickered up to meet hers, a mixture of pain and resignation in their depths. "It's... all about you," she rasped before her body went limp, life slipping away from her.

A sob caught in Helena's throat as she stared at the lifeless form of Ash, a torrent of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. Movement across the dock pulled her attention away, and she turned to see Preston stumbling towards her. His clothes were stained with blood and tears streamed down his face.

"Helena," he choked out, his voice barely audible over the relentless wind. "She's... she's gone."

As their eyes met, the weight of the situation settled heavily on their shoulders. No words needed to be spoken – they understood that their world had just shifted irrevocably, and there was no turning back.