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“Curtis. It’s me. Jay. Look at me, man!” I shout, trying to get his attention. It isn’t until I wave my hands in front of him that he finally blinks, noticing me for the first time. His eyes are bloodshot, barely a thought behind them.
“What’s in the bag, Curtis?” I ask, hoping he’ll snap out of whatever drug-induced state he is in. His pupils are mere pinpoints as he stares at me, his head lulling from side to side. It looks like he’s lost twenty pounds since I last saw him and he didn’t have the extra weight to lose.
“Dunno,” he mumbles. He tugs his straps like he’s trying to remove the bag, but with the thick tape, there’s no use.
“I need you to stop walking. Don’t go any closer to those people.” I can hear the chaos behind me, the deputies evacuating the crowd. There’s a lot of people and not a lot of safe ways out of here.
He takes another step, not processing what I’m saying. “Curtis!” I yell again, making him startle. “I need to know what you have in the bag!”
He blinks rapidly, trying to clear some of the fog in his head, but he stays silent.
“We’ve got two more in custody. They were hiding in an unregistered vehicle down the block.” The radio sounds from my back pocket.
“Is there a trigger? Check the vehicle. A timer, a phone, anything?” I shout into the mouthpiece.
“Stand by.” Fuck, this is taking too long, a bomb could blow at any second. My skin is crawling with dread. Being this close to a bomb is idiotic.
“Jesse, you’ve got to move. You can’t stay there!” Nathan yells from across the street, but I don’t look, keeping my eyes trained on Curtis.
“Jesse…” Curtis mumbles to himself.
“Yeah, buddy. My name is Jesse, not Jay. I’m sorry I lied, but I was doing my job. Right now, I’m trying to keep people from getting hurt. Remember when you told me you didn’t want anyone to get hurt?” I keep talking, trying to get through to him, hoping my words will puncture through his haze.
“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” he says, a little clearer than before, but still slurred.
“I know. Can I look in the bag?” I ask, moving closer. He doesn’t move, so I step past him, looking intently at the bag. No exposed wires, and no timer, but all that could be inside. If I pull the zippers though, it could trigger it. FUCK!
“We’ve got a timer in the van. Unsophisticated. The countdown is active. Four minutes, 58 seconds.” The words reach my ears and I swear the world around me slows.
I have less than five minutes to figure out how to save this poor kid and myself. In less than five minutes, I could be dead. Thea will be left alone, and our life together will be over. Less than five minutes until I lose the chance to have a family with her.
I suck in a deep breath, throwing myself into action. If the timer is unsophisticated, then the bomb probably is too. I could be wrong, but the way Curtis was stumbling already tells me it won’t explode if it’s tilted off-kilter. It’s an assumption, but one I’m going with.
“Curtis, I have to get the bag off.” I point my attention to where the straps are tightly taped to his arms and cringe. This is going to be brutal.
“JESSE! NO!” My head whips up when I hear her voice. Thea’s running towards me quickly, ducking under the arms of the deputies clearing the crowd, straight toward the danger. No, no, no.
“THEA, GO!” I thunder desperately. Please, don’t do this, baby.
Before I can even make the split-second decision of staying here with Curtis or getting Thea away, an arm reaches out, latching around her waist and hauling her off the ground.
“NO!!” She screams, kicking and fighting Nathan as he pulls her away from me and farther away. Thank God. I can’t do this if I know she’s not safe.
I can hardly do this at all knowing she’s out there needing me to come home to her. Fuck, I don’t want that to be the last time I got to hear her voice or see her face, but I need to stop Jameson from hurting anyone.
There are still people too close for comfort and families probably occupy the buildings surrounding us, so I turn back to the bag. I pull my pocket knife out and start sawing away at the layers of tape around his left shoulder and hand. It’s thick and annoyingly sticky. It’s taking me forever. Too long.
I’m only halfway through the left side when I hear, “Two minutes.” The warning sets my nerves wild. Fuck, I can’t do this in time. I keep slicing and ripping at the tape, ignoring Curtis’ cries of pain.
“What’s your plan?”
I look up as Malec jogs toward me. I should tell him to leave, warn him away, but I can’t deny the relief that he’s here offering help. The look on his face tells me he wouldn’t leave anyway.
“I’m trying to cut the bag off. If I can get it in a dumpster before it blows, it’ll stop a lot of the damage,” I explain, sweat dripping down my face as I concentrate on my task. Malec doesn’t hesitate, pulling his own knife out to cut the right side.
“Bomb squad is going to take too long. When we get to a ten-second warning, we’re out of here, with or without your friend,” he whispers to me. All I can do is nod. I don’t want to leave Curtis if it comes to it, I don’t know if I can, but for now, I agree.
The tape finally gives and I’m able to get it sliced cleanly through one side of the strap, but it’s still wrapped around his shoulder and hands, stuck to his skin. Malec has the realization at the same time as me. There is no time to keep cutting.
