It is past noon, but the last remnants of fall’s first frost still linger on the ground – at least in the shadow of the taller gravestones.

I walk slowly, so slowly that I wonder if I slowed any further, whether my momentum would even keep carrying me forward. I’m crunching a path through the frost, following the directions to the spot the caretaker marked on my map for me.

It’s the first time I’ve been here.

I’ve been busy.

Busy: sure, but it’s not only that. Coming here; seeing every plot and gravestone; everything looking so still; it means that it’s real. It means that I’ll never see Luke again, and I’m not sure that I was ready to accept that; not until now.

I pause, and crouch over a particularly resilient patch of snow-white frost. I pluck a long blade of grass from the soft green and white carpet that lines the graveyard, and bring it to a couple of inches from my eyes.

Even the heat from my gloved hands is enough to start melting the delicate crystals of ice that line the blade, and before long a droplet of water forms. It starts to weigh down the blade, and I watch, and watch as it dips in slow motion. I bring it to my mouth and let the tiny droplet of water settle on my tongue.

I could stay crouching here forever. Just plucking blades of grass and drinking from them like a survivalist gone mad. But if I did, there would be only one reason for it – delaying the inevitable.

I look back at Will’s SUV a hundred yards away, and shiver as a cool breeze chills me to the core. I could turn back, join him in the warmth –

“Just get the hell on with it,” I mutter. The sound echoes across my little patch of the still, silent graveyard, and I check the map once again, even though I know exactly where I’m going.

I’m barely a dozen yards away from Luke’s grave. It’s obvious which one it is, because it’s the only one in sight that is not surrounded by fresh green grass, or grass kissed by white frost. The earth is still freshly turned, and I know life won’t spring forth now until spring. It looks so cold and uninviting.

Next time, bring flowers.

I inch towards it, painfully, slowly, and when I come to stand in front of it, my mouth turns dry.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around…” I croak, licking my lips to wet them.

I pause, waiting for him to say something, and a short, sad laugh escapes my lips. “Oh, man, I’m no good at this, am I?” I laugh, slumping to the ground. I’m going to get my new clothes covered in dirt; maybe ruin them, but I don’t care.

Luke’s face hovers in my mind’s eye, and a single, cold tear rolls down my cheek. “I wish you were here, kid,” I say into the still emptiness of the graveyard. “I could really use your advice.”

I lapse into silence. I feel kind of silly talking to Luke’s grave. But I don’t really know what else I’m supposed to do here. In the distance, a flock of birds erupts into flight, croaking and cawing and screaming their warning to the world. It startles me to life.

“I don’t know what to do…” I whisper. My throat’s all choked up, but the words are flooding out. “I feel like such a fool for trusting him. Part of me wants to believe every word that comes out of his mouth, Luke. Another part just feels so used. I believe it though – you know?”

I pause for his answer, an answer that never comes.

“I believe him when he says he doesn’t want to hurt me. But how can I ever trust a man who would play a trick like that?”

I try to imagine what Luke would say, but all I hear is silence.

Then a crunching sound.

Rather, the sound of boots crushing frosted blades of grass. I look up.

“Will?”

It’s not Will. “The birds…” I whisper, looking around frantically for an escape. “The goddamn birds!”

There is a loose semicircle of men dressed in black, all closing in on me; and they don’t look friendly.

“Will!” I scream, looking back to the SUV, but what I see knocks the wind out of me. Will is jumping out of the black truck, gun in hand, but there are two men around him, and their weapons are much bigger.

He’s my lifeline, but someone’s about to cut it. I’m caught, but I know there’s nothing I can do to help him. If I run towards him, then we both die. For a second, I’m frozen with indecision. My eyes rake around the graveyard searching for –

I need a way to slow them down.

I make a break for the thicket of trees in the center of the graveyard. It’s a terrifying place. Not one I would ever approach in normal life, but it’s the only way I can think of that will help me to survive this situation. I run past one of the men, making myself a small as possible. He lunges out and catches my shoe –

“You fucking bitch!” He snarls.

My blood runs cold. I know that what he said doesn’t mean anything. There must be a thousand men as sexist as him in this city: ten thousand maybe.

But it’s the way he said it …

I wriggle free with a strength born of desperation. The grip around my shoe is vice-like, and pulls it right off, sock as well. I start to sprint again. I’m off-balance, and the ground is icy cold against my naked foot, but none of that stops me.

I can hide in there, I think; long enough for someone to help.

“Oh my God, oh my God,” I pant, wasting breath I can scarce afford to lose. Panic is starting to overwhelm me. I almost slip on a patch of mud, but even that doesn’t stop me. The adrenaline carries me forward. The tree line inches closer.

Ten yards –

Five –

I’m there, but like some kind of sick firework going off to celebrate my achievement, a shot rings out. I dive into the trees and twist my head over my shoulder, only to see Will’s broken body slumping against the hood of the SUV.

“Don’t look,” I pant, only because if I don’t fill the silence, I worry it’ll swallow me whole. I kick leaves and twigs and sticks up behind me as I head into the darkest depths of the thicket. There’s not much space to hide, and I set my sights on a fallen tree a few yards ahead of me.

There’s a tiny space underneath it, and I thrust my body inside, closing my eyes as I feel tiny creatures slithering across me. Insects: they are my deepest, darkest fear, but right now, they barely register in the top ten.

One: Gang of murderous killers on my tail.

Two: Vince Amaria…

You get the picture.

I swallow, and clench my mouth tight shut to stop the sound of panicked breath escaping my lungs. Now the sound of my panicked flight is over, the thicket’s quiet again. I start to wonder whether my pursuers have somehow forgotten me.

“Don’t waste it!” I whisper. I know I shouldn’t be speaking, but now Will’s dead, the sound of my voice seems like all I’ve got left.

I fish desperately in my pocket for a cell phone, and almost cry with happiness when my fingers touch against the hard plastic rectangle. I pull it out and –

A twig snaps behind me.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you…” A hard, shrill voice says. I know that voice. It chills me to the bone, because now I know, beyond any doubt, what’s going to happen to me.

I close my eyes, and a sense of terror starts to consume me. I can’t bring myself to look around, or to see –

A pockmarked face fills my vision as Lenny steps around, pointing a handgun at my chest. A wicked grin twists across his mutilated skin. “Vince is going to be very, very pleased,” Lenny says. “Oh yes – very pleased.” He walks towards me, reaching out with his hand, and I feel like my legs are stuck in concrete.

Lenny starts to unbutton my coat. He pulled the top toggle loose, and I realize with startling clarity that he’s going to fondle me.

I slap him on the face.

The crack rings out through the quiet thicket. “Declan…” I whimper. He’s all that I can think of right now. I wish he was here, not just to help – but because now, in my hour of need, I know the truth.

I can forgive him.

I just won’t get the chance.

Lenny’s hand jumps to his cheek. He holds his face to one side theatrically as his fingers ran across his bubbled skin. “Oh, yes,” he hisses. “We thought it was him, but you know –,” he looks back at me. “It wasn’t until you walked into that police station that we knew for sure. But after that…” He throws his head back and laughs. “It was easy.”

I stare him directly in the eyes, and he doesn’t seem to feel comfortable holding my gaze. I count it as a minor victory, but Lenny crashes my optimism in seconds.

“Where was I?” He snarls. “Oh yes – Vince is going to be pleased. And after that,” he grins, “once he’s done – maybe he’ll let me have you.”

I gulp.

“Some men don’t like sloppy seconds. But me? I’m not so fussy.”

Lenny grabs my hair and drags me out of the thicket by it. He’s short, but he’s a hundred times stronger than me. No matter how hard I struggle – and I do, kicking and screaming and trying to scratch his hands, he doesn’t seem to care. It’s like he’s an automaton, a robot with one sole purpose: to please his master.

My legs scrape a puddle of fallen fall leaves along behind me, and I leave a trail of smeared mud, crushed grass and leaves.

“Get the truck,” Lenny grunts.

The rumble of an engine comes into earshot. I can’t even see it through the tears blurring my eyes. Lenny shoves me in and pushes me against a tinted window, and climbs in after me.

In seconds, we’re off. Lenny pushes the barrel of his handgun against my temple and sneers in my face. I know he wants me to show weakness, maybe even thrives on it. And I’m giving it to him. I can’t help it, and I don’t care.

I expect the truck to scream out of the graveyard, leaving a trail of rubber on the road, but it doesn’t. It moves slowly, and I realize that’s the whole point. They are trying not to attract any more attention than they already have.

The glass window is cold against my cheek. As I watch the greenery of the graveyard speed by, I can’t help but think that my life is inching away with it.

I see movement in the distance, a black speck on the horizon. But it doesn’t stir anything in me.

It keeps coming.

It’s a truck.

It’s a very familiar truck.

It’s Declan’s truck.

I see his face in the windshield as he speeds by like a man possessed. I cry out his name, but it’s lost between two panes of glass and the sound of the engine. He’s so close, and yet he’s never been further away. Lenny jabs his handgun into my temple. “Shut up, bitch,” he growls. He doesn’t need to waste his breath.

I’m so alone.

And I’m going to die.