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War
(FF, cons, war)
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(c) Copyright - June 1998
All Rights Reserved
Crimson Dragon
(dcrimson@yahoo.com)
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It had begun suddenly, like Satan's hand descending onto an
ill-prepared world. An innocuous burst of crimson lit the night sky
and then her small office like a low power camera flash.
Kristen held her breath as she sat behind her large ebony desk,
waiting for the inevitable rumble to carry across the ruined city. At
last it came, washing across the room like far away thunder. God, how
she wished it had been thunder. She began to shake, but willed the
tremors from her body. She took a deep breath and stood.
She could see her reflection in the dark glass of the windows as she
rose to her feet. The fluorescent lights built into the ceiling bathed
her in an ethereal spotlight keeping the darkness of the outside world
at bay. Her long blonde hair flowed around her face, almost like a
halo. She knew she wasn't an angel, not even close, but she didn't
deserve to die. Not tonight as surely she would.
Another flash, off to her right, burned its way across the cityscape.
Even at this distance the flashes almost blinded her. She touched the
glass of the huge window, pressing against it lightly and feeling the
coolness beneath her fingertips. She'd heard that some lawyer, years
ago, before all this, before she was born, had tested the glass by
jumping against it. Stupidity, gravity, glass and weak adhesive had
won, earning him a prestigious Darwin nomination. She doubted that she
could repeat the dive, but it was better than the alternative of
simply waiting. Perhaps she would attempt the jump later, if she could
bring herself to conquer her instinctive fear of heights. She could
wait a while yet; it would be some time before they came for her.
She could see the tiny people so far below as she leaned lightly
against the window. Small ants running along Bay and King streets. The
cars and taxis were in gridlock under the streetlamps, belching up
noxious gases into the smog ridden downtown atmosphere. Everyone was
frantic to leave. They wouldn't escape. They couldn't escape anymore
than she. The smoke was already beginning to drift down towards the
lake from the fires surely burning to the north and east.
She closed her eyes as the next rumble washed over her senses. She
shivered knowing more lives had just been extinguished. She turned,
tears beginning to form in her eyes. She reached for the phone,
knowing it was useless even before the small speaker reached her ear.
Only the harsh whine of feedback issued from the device. No dial tone.
She allowed a tear to fall down her face. She had desperately wanted
to say good-bye to Jake. But that wasn't to be. Even if the phones
worked, there was no guarantee that he wasn't already dead. She closed
her eyes and prayed silently into the uncaring room.
Her mind flipped back in time. She had only been a young girl when it
had begun. It had begun slowly. Riots. Demonstrations. She could
barely remember the beginnings. She vividly remembered her father
taking her to the parades. But the parades had been so much more and
she hadn't understood. It had been nearly twenty-five years ago. She
had been too young. But she had grown - grown into a smart, beautiful
young lady. And her father had perished in the early Gender Wars. Now,
she understood far too much. The violence. The Gender Wars. The Labour
Wars. The Environment Wars. The Race Wars. Wars without end. There had
never been an end. Not really. Not for her. It was coming to a head
directly outside her window. This was different, more severe, more
final. This would be the last war, she could feel it with a certainty
that would not be denied. Just a glimmering of understanding of
something that simply wasn't comprehensible.
She cringed as another explosion rocked the city. Three years ago. A
terrorist bomb on the Yonge subway line. She still remembered the
flash of heat and light, the screaming, the interminable wait, trying
to comfort the injured, the dying, ignoring the dead. Bombs. Guns.
Violence. The outside world had erupted into her private subway train.
She closed her eyes trying to shut out the cries that still haunted
her. She wasn't alone with her daemons. Not in this world.
She wondered if this building had been targeted for demolition with
her still inside, or if she would be hunted and killed by the
stormtroopers along with everyone else. If she couldn't jump, then she
silently hoped that her building would collapse. It would be better
than the terror of the stormtroopers. Fear ground into her stomach
like a red hot iron pressed deep into her soul. She tried to will it
away, but wasn't very successful.
A startled scream escaped her lips as the lights extinguished,
plunging her into an inky darkness. It was a moment before the low
power emergency beacons turned on. She knew that their meager light
wouldn't last long, but she was grateful that they still worked. She
hated the dark. She moaned softly and rocked in her leather chair,
hugging herself.
Another rumble penetrated her numb mind, louder and closer than the
others. She rose again and walked slowly to the windows, pressing her
nose against the glass. They had gotten the tower. She couldn't
remember when the tower had been built, it had been before she was
born. It had always been there. A landmark when she was lost. A
sentinel in the night. It's flashing lights a comfort - a beckoning to
home. She closed her eyes as it toppled. The main feature of the city
skyline tumbled down in a cascade of concrete and steel. She moaned as
she realized that it hadn't fallen towards the lake, but the tons of
concrete and steel had crashed northward, probably into the fashion
district near Spadina. Probably on purpose. Her tears began to fall
again as she comprehended the staggering loss of life involved in this
one act of war among many. The victims wouldn't have survived anyway,
but this was small comfort. She would join them soon enough.
It was happening so quickly. She'd heard on the six o'clock news
yesterday that this was expected. Rumours of cities simultaneously hit
followed by the countryside. Quelling the problems. Eradicating the
problems. Burying the problems. She had thought that this city had
seen enough, that there was nothing more that could happen here, but
her eyes convinced her that there was so much more. So much more to
live for; so much more to die for. She took a deep breath. This was
happening the world over. New York. Los Angeles. Mexico. London.
Paris. Moscow. Sydney. Tokyo. Beijing. Singapore. Washington. And
Toronto.
The loss of life was staggering. She fell to her knees as her legs
refused to support her weight. She didn't even know what this war was
about. Who was the enemy this time? And millions, perhaps billions of
people, gone as though they had never laughed, cried, hated and loved.
As though they had never existed. Most not even knowing what they were
dying for. Like Kristen.
She slowly rose to her feet again, tears streaming down her face. She
didn't want to die. She contemplated the door. She knew she should
flee. Run. At least try to escape. At least try and hide. But she
couldn't. It wouldn't help. She would be gunned down in the street;
she knew that. She returned to the window, helplessly.
The small ants were still pouring out of the buildings into the
streets, only to be met with gunfire and death. The ants were now
lying motionless far below. She could almost hear each cry of agony as
the uncaring bullets ripped apart bone and flesh. She could see the
stormtroopers behind their white masks, firing, adding to the mayhem.
Small white insects in a sea of red. So much blood. So much unneeded
blood. And for what?
She felt the nausea rising but she fought it down, falling back to her
knees on the carpet. The thoughts flew through her mind like a mantra.
"I will not be sick. I will not be sick."
The rumbles had become nearly constant, the gunfire, the missiles, and
the explosives combining as though the fires of hell had descended
into this innocent world. Perhaps they had.
Kristen barely heard the hesitant knock at her door. The soft sound
melted into the constant beat of the war outside. She had fallen
sobbing to the floor, curled up, trying to block out the screams and
the rumbling. Kristen looked up fearfully. She had thought that the
stormtroopers wouldn't be this far yet. But she'd been wrong about the
war not affecting this city. Not that running would have saved her.
Even if she'd run last night. They would have found her. But at least
she would have been with Jake, perhaps had a few more days. She calmed
her overactive nerves. They had many buildings to search. She forced
herself to stop sobbing and lie still. The stormtroopers wouldn't
knock.
The knock came again, a little stronger, but not much. This time a
small frightened voice floated through a lull in the war raging
outside.
"Kristen?" a female voice called quietly.
It took Kristen a moment to understand who it was. She was sure that
Janet had gone home. She closed her eyes, wishing that Janet had gone
home. Then she wouldn't be here for this. Then she wouldn't have had
to die here, too, in this damn office building. At least she'd be with
her husband when they came for her.
Kristen forced herself off the floor, pushing on her hands to right
herself. She walked slowly to the door and opened it. Janet was
standing framed in the doorway, sobbing into her hands, looking like a
small, frightened fawn.
"Janet?"
Janet raised her face from her hands, a look of relief radiated across
her features despite the tears. She looked awestruck that the door in
front of her had even opened. Kristen couldn't remember if Janet had
ever used her first name before. Secretaries didn't use given names in
this company, though Kristen had fought to change the policy. But all
that didn't matter anymore.
"Thank God. I didn't think you'd come out."
Kristen guided the shaking girl into her office and gently shut and
locked the door.
"I thought you'd gone home," Kristen spoke to the frightened girl. "I
would have come to find you earlier."
Another flash and explosion rattled the windows making both women
jump. They ignored the chairs in the room and sat down on the carpet,
Janet melting into Kristen's embrace.
Janet sobbed, "I. I wish I had gone home. We're not going home again,
are we?"
Kristen slowly shook her head, her blonde curls swishing past Janet's
head.
"I'm sorry," Kristen whispered. But she had no idea what she was
apologizing for. Being a realist, perhaps.
Janet squirmed out of Kristen's arms and crawled towards the window.
"Don't look," Kristen whispered.
Janet pressed her forehead to the glass, still on her hands and knees,
tears beginning to form again in her eyes. "Oh my God," she whispered
as her eyes took in the carnage below.
"I know, sweety. I know."
Janet crawled back, lying her head into Kristen's lap. Kristen idly
played with Janet's brown hair as she watched the night and the
flashes, She listened to the thunder that wasn't thunder. It made no
sense.
"I don't want to die," Janet murmured as she rose to her knees.
Hesitantly, she embraced Kristen, pulling her close.
Kristen closed her eyes, trying to forget the sounds of war and
whispered back, "I don't either. Believe me, I don't either." She
grasped at Janet pulling her tight. She could feel the warmth of her
body through her suit, felt her feminine body, Janet's breasts
pressing against her own.
Flushed, they released one another. Janet knelt back.
"Can. Can I stay?"
Kristen smiled gently. "Of course. I don't want to be alone either."
"I. I couldn't get a hold of Brad. The phones died."
"I know. Jake. Same thing."
Tears welled up in Kristen's eyes as she again realized that Jake was
gone. Gone with everyone else. Gone from her, forever. She hoped that
she'd see him again, on the other side. But if God allowed this to
happen, she wasn't so sure the other side was much better, if it was
even there. And if it was, how was she going to find Jake with so many
people there?
She felt Janet touching her face. The soft fingers trailed down her
cheeks, gently wiping away the tears. She opened her eyes to see
Janet's face so close she could touch her with her tongue if she
wanted. She felt herself do it. She wanted to forget so much, it
seemed right. Her tongue traced along Janet's soft lips before she
could stop it, or even realize what she was doing. Janet kissed her
back, tears falling down her face. The touch of her lips felt
electric. Tingles raced through Kristen's body. Kristen was surprised
that she could feel anything but numbness.
Janet pulled away, only slightly, tears pouring from her eyes.
"They're gone. Aren't they?" she whispered.
Kristen swallowed. She felt it, at least in Jake's case. He was gone,
probably in the first wave. If Brad wasn't gone, he would be soon.
She'd always been realistic, one of her many faults. Kristen slowly
nodded, watching as Janet sobbed, unable to provide her any
reassurance. Finally cried out, Janet moved forward and offered her
lips again to Kristen. After a moment of hesitation, Kristen kissed
her, gently and sensually. The kiss caused more tingles; the tingles
felt so much better than the numbness. She could feel Janet's hands on
her, pulling gently at her clothing, moaning, and gently crying out.
Thoughts of Jake, and her love for him, flitted through her mind as
she fell into Janet's comfort. She knew somewhere that this wasn't
quite right; she'd never wanted a woman before. She still loved Jake.
But it didn't seem to matter anymore. Nothing did. She wanted the
comfort of another person. Male, female didn't matter. She needed to
be held. Didn't want to go through this alone. And Jake wasn't here,
and never would be again. The explosions and gunfire were getting
closer and her fear was lessening as Janet's hands and lips touched
her. Janet had stopped crying, concentrating on Kristen. Kristen could
feel Janet's body gently against her, not shaking anymore.
Kristen closed her eyes, feeling the softness of Janet's lips against
her own. She felt Janet's fingers tugging at her jacket, playing with
the buttons of her blouse between her breasts. She swallowed heavily
and let Janet pull the jacket from her. It fell in a crumpled heap
beside the kneeling women. In another time, in another place, the
crumpled jacket would have bothered her, but she was sure that she
wouldn't ever put it on again. Wrinkles or bloodstains didn't much
matter.
Kristen felt the cool caresses of Janet's lips against the skin of her
chest and the tops of her heaving breasts. She moaned softly into the
roar around her, pressing herself into the distraction of Janet's
comfort. She felt her hands touching Janet's body as though her hands
possessed their own volition, stroking Janet gently through her silk
blouse. Her heart rate, already accelerated from the cracks of the
guns, sped up further. She was acutely aware of her pulse pounding
into her ears, overriding the noise from the street below.
Almost as though her hands belonged to someone else, she watched her
fingers pulling at the buttons of Janet's blouse. Her own blouse was
sliding softly down her arms. She'd never undressed a grown woman
before, nor been undressed by one, other than herself. She couldn't
believe she was watching her fingers do it. But she needed to touch
that soft skin, hold her, have her. The explosions got nearer. Her
breath caught as she thought she heard a rumble from the building
beneath her knees. The building stood firm, whatever had hit it, and
Kristen let her breath out in a long even flow.
Her fingers hesitated a moment, but her mind screamed that they didn't
have much time. Janet rocked back on her heels, her blouse hanging
loose around her shoulders, Kristen's fingers having released all the
buttons from their entrapment. The blouse tantalizingly concealed her,
but Janet's indented belly button peeked out teasingly as the silk
parted with her movements.
Slowly, tears in her eyes, Janet rose to her feet, kicking away her
high heels. She hesitated, cringing as multiple explosions rocked the
street below. It sounded like cars exploding like popcorn, but neither
woman looked out the window. With her eyes locked on Kristen, Janet
slipped her skirt down her legs. Kristen, still on her knees, watched
as Janet was silhouetted by a bright flash through the night. The
rumble washed over the women, making Janet stumble forward. The
windows rattled ominously. A thought came unbidden through Kristen's
mind. "If the windows break, I can jump." A sense of futility rushed
through her mind as she knelt there watching as Janet struggled to
return to her task, doing her best to ignore the noise and brutality
behind her.
Janet kicked away the skirt, letting it fall beside Kristen's jacket
and blouse. In other times, Kristen would have been surprised at the
garter belt and stockings gracing Janet's body. It seemed incongruous
with her business attire. She could see that Janet also lacked a bra
beneath the hanging silk blouse, but she probably already knew that
unconsciously from her previous explorations. Janet's panties slipped
gently down her legs, over the stockings. They joined the small pile
of clothing beside the desk. Closing her eyes, Janet lowered her
shoulders, allowing the silk to flutter to the floor. Another
explosion silhouetted her in the window, lighting her bare upthrust
breasts in a hot crimson light. She stood quietly, gazing down at
Kristen, waiting. Kristen looked at the soft, gentle, nude female
above her, so starkly contrasting with the outside world of harshness
and pain.
Kristen reached behind herself, unclasping the hooks of her brassiere
with a practiced ease. Taking a deep breath she allowed the material
to fall forward off her shoulders. She fought a nearly impossible
desire to put the underclothing back on, hide herself. She had always
been shy in the gym showers. But a glance at Janet standing tall and
unabashedly naked in the muted light convinced her to release the
underwear with the rest of her clothing. She willed herself to hold
her arms at her sides, allowing Janet to see her, strangely enjoying
Janet's silent observation of her body.
She rose to her feet. With her shoes, she was two inches or so taller
than Janet. It took a moment for her mind to realize what the
discrepancy was. She pushed off her footwear with her toes and stood
even with Janet once again. She moved silently into Janet's arms,
weeping quietly onto her shoulder. Janet held her, tears of her own
falling without care. The women felt more than heard another rumble
from deep within the building, their feet tingling with the
sensations.
The outside world melted again as Janet touched Kristen's lips with
her own. The electric currents of desire flooded through their senses,
forcing the terror and the noise to fade into a shadowy mist of
touches. Kristen was only aware of her lips and her hardened nipples
gently rubbing against Janet's soft skin as she breathed. She could
feel Janet's nipples pressing into her skin like small embers from the
bombs. The war again faded into the background, as though it never
existed. She felt Janet's fingers urgently pulling at her slacks,
releasing the clasp and the zipper in one motion. She allowed the
fingers to release her from the material, the light fabric pooling
around her ankles. She gasped as she felt Janet's fingers gently
pulling the panties from her hips, feeling the cotton sliding down her
legs for the last time.
Janet was kneeling easily, indicating with touch for Kristen to join
her. Kristen stepped out of her pooled slacks and underclothing,
pulling her socks off with her toes. She fell to her knees as another
explosion rocked the city. It sounded like something, perhaps one of
the factories on Lakeshore, had exploded with the fierceness of the
ancient gods.
The women fell into one anothers arms again, pulling their bodies
together tightly. The desperation and closeness of the embrace ignited
them again. As one, they kissed, lowering themselves to the floor.
Kristen cried out softly as she felt Janet's fingers between her legs,
parting her, exploring. She hesitated but felt her own fingers seeking
out Janet's breasts, her secret places. Janet was gasping for air,
breathing hard and irregularly, pressing her body into the touches,
taking and giving the comforts of her body as she could.
When Kristen opened her eyes, she noticed the emergency lights fading
like a flashlight with old batteries. They were barely illuminating
the room, and within minutes would fade completely. She moaned as she
felt yet another rumble vibrate through the floor below her bare back.
She'd never felt an earthquake, but she thought that this just might
be what people in California lived with everyday. The light faded as
fingers explored, and loved. The flashes and explosions retreated
again into oblivion as touch overrode all other sensations and
awareness.
Janet's fingers withdrew, and Kristen opened her eyes in confusion,
longing for the return of the touch to release her from reality. Her
world crashed back into her senses. Janet was crawling towards
Kristen's feet. The emergency lights had completely failed, leaving
the room lit only by the occasional bright flash and the flickering
red of the fires.
Kristen gently spread her legs a bit wider as Janet lay easily between
them. Kristen's involuntary scream was a mixture of fear and pleasure
as Janet's tongue lightly caressed Kristen's being. Kristen thought
she felt fingers entering her, the softness of the tongue finding her
swollen center. Stroking. Pumping. Kristen's eyes closed as she
struggled to match the unfamiliar rhythms of Janet's love. She
strained to concentrate on her rhythms and not those of the irregular
explosions from the city, but it was so difficult not to jump at the
loud ones.
Jake had known her body in a way that Janet was just discovering. But
Janet knew a woman's body. She adapted quickly, finding the rhythms
that it had taken Jake months to determine. Tears welled up, but
Kristen forced them out of her eyes as she concentrated on ignoring
the insane world around her, forgetting about Jake as best she could.
Only Janet and her, loving each other in the midst of chaos.
Kristen took another deep breath and held it as she strained to match
her rhythm against Janet's fingers and tongue. She rocked her bare
body, finding her arousal synchronizing with the intensity of the
battles outside, wanting for her climax. Needing her climax.
The trapped air whooshed from Kristen's lungs as she screamed in
terror and surprise. Impossibly loud noises close by drilled into her
head, so loud that she clapped her hands tightly over her ears. It
took her numbed mind a moment to realize that the fire alarm had
finally engaged. The sirens and bells penetrated into her senses
denying her the release she so desperately needed. So close. She
nearly cried again in her frustration. The world was intent on denying
her - intent on destroying her completely. She felt the first drops of
the fine mist against her burning skin as the sprinkler system kicked
in, soaking both Janet and her. She closed her eyes against the spray,
crying out in frustration and adrenaline induced panic.
Janet, surprised and frightened by the fire alarm as well, stopped her
ministrations as she, too, screamed. The women's voices almost
harmonized with the alarm. Janet threw herself upwards, frantically
crawling and lying on top of Kristen as the water descended around
them like a cold April shower. Janet desperately kissed Kristen,
trying to ignore the icy water and the terror, desperately trying to
make it all disappear. In awe, Kristen realized that the alarm and the
water did nothing to diminish her arousal.
Kristen could taste herself on Janet's lips. Her own taste, vivid on
Janet's lips, intensified her arousal. She had never tasted herself
before, not even with Jake. She felt herself throb, and she moaned
into Janet's kissing mouth.
Crying and kissing, the women waited, pressing together and shivering.
At last, the falling water stopped, the internal building water
pressure spent. With a last loud tone and a crackle, the fire alarm
silenced. The city was eerily silent, only her own pounding heartbeat
and Janet's laboured breathing registered on her frightened brain.
With a single gunshot, far below, the explosions began again. She
couldn't tell where they were -- where people were dying now -- but it
wasn't as close. She took a breath and touched Janet's bare, wet
shoulder. In her life, so long ago, she would never have imagined that
she'd be lying in her office, making frantic love to a woman, nor
making the suggestion that was imprinted on her mind. Janet's head
hung like an angel's above Kristen's eyes. Janet's soaked hair
plastered to her head and dripped onto Kristen's bare body forming
small beads of translucent, flickering red water on her heaving
breasts. Almost in relief that they were still alive, Janet gently
laughed. It seemed cruelly out of place with the explosions and the
slowly dripping water and the agonized screams, but Kristen felt it as
well. Her belly convulsed and she found herself laughing despite
herself.
"I was so damn close," Kristen whispered.
Janet simply laughed harder but still gently. "The world hates us,
Kristen. The world hates us."
At last the giggles subsided and the women melted back into a gentle
kiss.
"Sixty-nine?" Kristen hesitated, but made her suggestion in a whisper.
She couldn't believe that her mouth had formed the words. She had
never suggested it to Jake. They had just done it.
Janet merely nodded and adjusted her position. Janet's sex glistened
above Kristen, the icy water and Janet's own wetness joining together
to emphasize her arousal. Both women shivered as the dampness
evaporated from their skin. Goosebumps formed in the worst places,
Kristen realized as she reached up to gently pull the other woman to
her. She could feel the tiny bumps rising on her bare breasts, and
could see them gracing Janet's thighs. Her nipples felt tighter than
she could ever remember. The discomfort of their shower faded into the
background with the bombs and the war as Janet's tongue and fingers
again found Kristen's center. Janet squirmed and gasped above her, as
Kristen touched another woman with her tongue for the first and last
time. The taste was exquisite and she lost herself into the sensations
from the light explorations she was making with her mouth. She lost
herself in Janet.
Unconsciously, she could hear the war getting closer. The explosions
were getting stronger, and louder; less time between the flashes of
light and the rumbles. She had to concentrate more on the woman above
her to block them out. She thought she could feel another more
ominous vibration below her, through the floor, but she wasn't sure
if it was her shivering, or her lover, or something worse.
She could feel Janet pressing against her caresses, finding her
rhythm. The women were moaning together, finding the same rhythm,
driving through the chaos, desperately searching for peace.
Simultaneously, both women held their breaths, both struggling to
experience their unique climaxes. Dimly, Kristen was aware of a
larger, brighter flash of light, brighter than the fireworks that she
normally saw when she orgasmed. The explosion of noise was almost
instantaneous and deafening. The windows imploded inwards as the women
crashed through their climaxes, showering their soft skin with tiny
flecks of tempered, tinted glass.
The women screamed as their bodies strained against their own muscles,
arching, feeling the pleasure and pain wash over them.
Slowly, Janet moved her body from Kristen, small cuts covering her,
bright red leaking slowly from a few tiny cuts from the shattered
glass. The room was brighter now. The flickering light became stronger
as if the fires had moved closer. As Janet lay beside Kristen, they
kissed gently. The carnage, the screaming, the pops of the guns were
much closer now that the windows no longer protected them. Kristen
noted with tears in her eyes that the TD center had been gutted. It
hadn't collapsed, yet, but fire and flashes of explosions were
constant from the building across the street. There were no windows in
the blackened structure, and she doubted if her building had any
windows left either. Strange, irrelevant thoughts flickered through
her mind. Did a missile or bomb hit the TD center? Either way, it just
as easily could have been her building. She didn't know if it was a
blessing or another torment that they'd been spared. The smoke from
the outside world was billowing into her office through the broken
glass, choking the women and stinging their eyes.
She allowed herself to hug Janet, afraid to move because of the glass
and their unprotected skin. They didn't need to move. Their bodies
pressed gently together, embracing, gently kissing, stroking soft,
still damp skin.
Kristen dimly heard the gunshots, realizing that they weren't only
from the street below. Somewhere, down the hall, someone screamed and
then horribly silenced.
She looked around, fear beginning to surface in her belly again. She
could feel Janet shaking beside her, gently crying. Praying. She
fought against the panic rising in her being.
"We can go through the window," Kristen whispered to her lover
quietly.
She felt Janet shake her head, still sobbing into her bare breasts.
"I. I can't, Kristen. I'm sorry. I'd like to be here with you. As long
as I can."
Kristen kissed Janet's wet cheek one last time and lay her own head
back, feeling the grit of the glass under her damp hair. She wasn't
sure if she could force herself to jump anyway. A strange sense of
calm returned to her as she held Janet.
Kristen heard the doorknob rattle and she held her breath. She closed
her eyes, hugging Janet closer, crying out involuntarily as the door
crashed open. A white boot tinged with red and Janet's fine brown hair
as she kissed the top of her head, were the last things she would ever
see.
"We beat them," Kristen whispered to Janet.
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