The Truth Hurts

74 │friends 'til the end

Marc continues to walk ahead of Taylor but, after practically leaving her behind in a cloud of dust, his pace had slowed down to where she can catch up. They may be arguing but, with everything going on, he'd rather not take her eyes off of her. Not because he suspects her of lying to him, which he does, but more so that he doesn't want anything to happen to her. Especially not because of some ridiculous fight that couldn't have happened at a worse time. Up ahead, Millie's house can be seen in the distance.

He looks down at the sidewalk to watch his own faint steps over each crack in the concrete as he can see her, out of the corner of his eye, finally reach him. Rubbing at his forehead, he turns to face her as the two come to a stop in front of a neighboring house. "I'm sorry."

"No. I should be the one apologizing." She looks at him, shame filling her eyes. "You were right. You are right. I have been hiding something from you, from everyone, I just don't know if I should say it. Even if I did, I don't know where to begin."

"How about from the start?"

She nods, opening her mouth as she is on the verge of finally telling him everything, when her eyes drift past him. A sudden, faint ringing in the distance softly cuts through the silence.

"Taylor, what is it?" Wondering what caught her attention, he turns around to see the front door to Millie's house wide open. Concern immediately sweeps over his face.

"Deputy!" Taylor runs up to the squad car parked in front of the house, peering in through the passenger window to see that no one is inside. Without hesitation, she opens the door and leans in over the console, as if reaching for something on the floorboard.

Marc turns back around to see her halfway inside the car, his eyes widening even more as he lowers his voice to a whisper. "Hey! What are you doing?"

She ignores him, pulling a small lever that causes the trunk to slightly pop open. Lifting herself back out, she closes the passenger door behind her before walking to the rear of the car.

"Taylor!" He says worriedly, really not in the mood to get arrested tonight. Or killed.

Still not responding, she pulls the handle of the trunk upward, the door lifting wide open. Leaning forward, she grabs something from inside, and pulls it out to reveal a police-issued Remington 870 shotgun. Her left hand still wounded, she struggles to carry the heavy weapon at first. Convincing herself to ignore the pain, she holds onto the forend as her other hand clasps around the grip and she walks around the car toward Marc.

"What the hell?!" Marc tries to keep his voice quiet, looking around the neighborhood to see if anyone is watching them. "Put that back!"

"I'm not taking any chances."

He glances back at the house and then turns back to Taylor. Part of him wants to reason, or perhaps reassure himself, about what is going on. But, deep down, he knows that Taylor is right. With all of the shit that has already happened, they can't afford to take risks. Especially not when their friend's life is at stake.

"Okay." Nodding, he takes a deep breath as his eyes gaze down at the barrel of the gun. "Do you even know how to shoot that?"

She looks down at the gun, her blank expression answering his question immediately. He reaches out to take it, hoping that JROTC program he took years back would come into play and help him. That is, if he needs to even use it.

The two turn to hurriedly walk down the sidewalk leading to the front porch, the piercing sound of the house alarm growing louder with each step. Taylor eyes their surroundings, coming to a halt as she covers her mouth to hold in a scream. Marc follows her stare, seeing Deputy Bennett's corpse lying face down in the dirt. The ground surrounding him is saturated in a thick substance, almost to the point to where it looks like he is soaking in a deep puddle of fresh mud.