Providence Descending - Sarah Boone (epub e ink reader txt) 📗

lot of negative karma,” Lucy admitted.
Scott's hands hovered over his tools. “You're a good person, Lucy. I can see that. And good people deserve a little luck, okay. Are you ready to do this?”
“Yes.”
He let his hands fall. “Shit. I'm not. Lucy have you ever killed anyone?”
“Yes.”

Chapter Twenty – The Only Way Out is Up

Lucy constantly wondered what it would be like to die. The fact that she had no idea what to believe about death and life, religion, the afterlife, or any such thing, didn't help her at all. She hated not knowing. Her father had always said that death was like taking a nap after the longest day of your life – so much moving, so much done, so much left to do – and suddenly none of it matters. It's all overtaken by a peaceful, long-awaited sleep. So you fall. You fall into sleep, and you fall for a very long time.
“Nothing wrong with eternal rest,” Carl had once said to Lucy, “we're all gonna get it some time. It's more a blessing than a curse, I think. Sure, it's over, but think of how tiring it would be if life went on forever. All you can do is do the best you can to do what you want before they call your number, Luce. That's all you can do.”
Lucy wanted to marry Topher and spend the rest of her life with him. Now, here, in the bank parking lot, in front of two armed police cruisers, nothing else mattered. She looked at her fiance.
“I love you,” Topher said.
“I love you too,” Lucy said.
Topher dropped his gun. Lucy held on to hers.
“Miss, put it down. Put your gun down now!”
“Don't worry, Lucy. I'm not going to let us get married in jail.” Topher looked at Lucy's gun, silently willing her to follow suit and surrender.
But she couldn't. “I'm not going to let us get married in jail either,” she said. Then she opened fire.

Chapter Twenty One – There's Always Somewhere to Run

Scott took a deep breath. “I've never killed anyone. I've never been responsible for another life until now,” he said, “not besides my own. And I haven't done too good a job so far.”
“Me neither,” Lucy said. “After this we can start all over.”
“You mean that?”
“Yeah, sure,” Lucy replied. “Starting with dinner. Tomorrow. I like Italian.”
“Italian it is.” Scott strapped on the parachute. Then he ran his hands over his tools.
“I don't think we should waste anytime,” Lucy said. She could feel the heat from the seventh floor rising under them. The carpet was warm. The air grew sharp.
“You're right.” Scott's finger twitched, but he didn't reach for his wrench.
“Scott?”
He nodded. “Okay. I'm ready. Let's do this.”
Lucy heard the click of a cocked hammer behind them. She and Scott spun around. Brenner stood behind the front office counter, gun drawn. “Let's not,” Brenner said.
“How did you get up here?” Lucy asked.
“I took the elevator.”
“This place is gonna blow an second,” Scott said. “You should get out of here while you still can.”
“Not without that file.”
“I don't want anything to happen to your kids,” Lucy said, “but I can't do that.”
Brenner winced, and fired, eyes clenched shut, tears reflecting flame.
“Ow!” Scott cried out, examining his shoulder. “What the hell, man! You're not supposed to shoot the help! Do you want to kill us all, huh? There's flammable gas leaking around all over this place!”
“I don't care. I just want the file.”
Brenner vaulted over the counter and approached Lucy. She held the file behind her back. “I'm sorry.”
The sergeant aimed the gun at Lucy's chest. “I'm sorry too.”
Scott stepped over to Lucy's side. “Don't. I'm sure there's another way -”
“There isn't!” Brenner shouted. His trigger finger shuddered.
Scott hurled his wrench at Brenner. Brenner shrunk back, clutching his forehead. The gun went off, straight into the A.C. Unit and the whole wall behind them went up in flames.
“Lucy,” Scott said, pulling her around the nearest corner to shield her from the flames. “I can't feel my left arm. You're going to have to operate the parachute.” He yanked it off with his right arm and handed it to her. Then he tucked the Warner File into his cover-alls pocket. “I'll protect it for you.”
“I can't do that, Scott! I don't even know how to -”
“No time,” he said. An explosion of fire, like a gust of dragon's breath blew by them, and they ran around the next corner. Scott pointed to the window at the end of the hallway. You're just going to have to make it up as you go.”
Lucy strapped the parachute on. Scott used Brenner's gun to shoot the window out. Flames approached from every angle. Explosions resonated from below, moving upward. Scott wrapped his good arm around Lucy's middle, lifted her, and ran.

Chapter Twenty Two – Providence Descending

Carl sat at a card table in the game room of Rutherford Facility with Jimmy Reaper, and his goons, Larry and Barry. The game was poker.
Lucy's father pushed his cards into the middle of the table. “I fold.”
Barry won that round with a full house, ace high. He and Larry slapped hands.
“So, where do you think she is right now, Carl?” Jimmy asked.
“Oh, she's made it out by now,” Carl said, “I'm sure of it. I taught her well, you know.”
Jimmy reached for the deck of cards, started to deal, started to set up the game. “Oh, I know. All those tests you had for her. Trials. Scenarios. You made her as good as you.”
“Maybe better,” Carl ventured.
“Maybe better.”
“She's such a hard head. It was the only way I could get things through to her, you know? And still, most of it, the important parts, didn't stick. I hope that this will be the biggest lesson of all for her.”
“If she makes it out.”
“She will make it out. And she'll have learned when enough is enough.”
Jimmy snorted. “You keep saying that, pal, but I think we both know better. This is all she knows, Carl. This life. Our life. The steal. The score. The need. There's no going back from a life like ours. No redemption. No forgiveness. And I'm not asking for yours.”
“And I'm not giving it,” Carl said. “I trained her. All of this is as much my fault as it is yours for training me.”
“Miss, put it down. Put your gun down now!”
“Don't worry, Lucy. I'm not going to let us get married in jail.” Topher looked at Lucy's gun, silently willing her to follow suit and surrender.
But she couldn't. “I'm not going to let us get married in jail either,” she said. Then she opened fire.
The cops returned fire.
Bullets pierced Topher's torso, sprinkling blood like rain drops.
Lucy ran.
There's always somewhere to run.
Topher fell
down
down
down
to the pavement.

Larry said, “Bet's yours, Barry.”
Barry held up a straight flush: the winning hand of another round.
“If only Gary were here. He's the best of us at playing cards,” Scotty said.
Brenner pulled Lucy up by her armpits. “Yesterday a man named Gary came to my house. He didn't tell me anything else about himself other than his name. What he did tell me was that this morning I would receive a file called the Warner File. That someone was coming to steal and that I was to protect is at all costs or else he would kill my wife and kids.”
“Gary?” Lucy asked.
“Yes, Gary!” He clasped an arm around Lucy's throat. “I want to know what's going on now. The earthquake. The threats against my family. The fire. You're involved aren't you? I want to know what the hell is going on!”
Lucy struggled against him, finding no room to breathe or throw a punch. Her elbows dug against the wall behind her. She felt the plaster give. She heard the echoes of crumbled pieces falling down below her – a shaft of some sort. She threw her elbow back harder. There's always a way out, she thought. The skin on her arms broke but she kept swinging, harder and faster, trying to knock out the wall.
Her vision began to blacken again. Brenner shook her neck. She snatched the Warner File and leaned backwards into the abyss.
She fell
down
down
down
to the cellar.

Carl tossed his hand back on the table. “She's going to get out of there. I know she is. And when she does there will be no need for forgiveness. We'll both get what we want.”
“It's true,” Jimmy agreed. “No more debt for me, and you get to get out of this place. Ten million will take you wherever you want to go.”
“We'll hear from her soon,” Carl said. “Anytime now. Thanks for your help, Jimmy.”
“And thanks for yours,” Jimmy said.
Lucy constantly wondered what it would be like to die. The fact that she had no idea what to believe about death and life, religion, the afterlife, or any such thing, didn't help her at all. She hated not knowing. Her father had always said that death was like taking a nap after the longest day of your life – so much moving, so much done, so much left to do – and suddenly none of it matters. It's all overtaken by a peaceful, long-awaited sleep. So you fall. You fall into sleep, and you fall for a very long time.
“Nothing wrong with eternal rest,” Carl had once said to Lucy, “we're all gonna get it some time. It's more a blessing than a curse, I think. Sure, it's over, but think of how tiring it would be if life went on forever. All you can do is do the best you can to do what you want before they call your number, Luce. That's all you can do.”

Lucy pulled the release on the chute right after they jumped from the building.
“Nice and easy now,” Scott whispered in her ear. “Just float on down.” He guided her shoulders with his neck. “Pull left. Now, lean a little bit right. There you go, Lucy. Almost home free.”
But bad luck latched onto Lucy and refused to let go.
They started to descend faster and faster, too fast. The ground approached like a moving car, closer and closer.
“What do I do? Scott, what do I do?”
“We're too heavy, Lucy.”
“So what do I do?”
“Nothing you can do, but what you're doing.” Scott leaned back so he could see below them. “This is where I leave you Lucy.” He let go.
“Scott! No!” Lucy looked back. Scott was okay. He'd landed in a tree. She could see him, moving around, trying to shimmy down the trunk. Scott was okay! He was alive.
Lucy so busied herself checking on Scott that she didn't notice that she was fast approaching a wall. When she turned to face her front. It was too late. She hit the wall.
She fell
down
down
down
to the pavement.
A ribbon of blood seeped out of her head, stretching around like a halo.
Scott limped into view and leaned over her, hands on hips, shaking his head. “Guess we're not going to dinner tomorrow. That's alright. I'm more of a breakfast person anyway.” He pulled the Warner File out of his pocket, opened the seal, and limped away.
Her father had always said that there are three situations when it's a bad idea to use an