Too late, so sorry.
The scream became manifest. Itself was itself. Scream was Faith was itself was the scream was all.
Dan, no! Dan…
Too late. Dying. Don’t want to die. Too late, so sorry.
An electric jolt of white, sustaining and sustaining.
Death is like this?
Thick smell, heavy, pressing inward from all directions. Blurry sweet taste, crawling on her skin. Skin.
I’m alive.
Breathing. Too fast breathing. Gasping.
I am Faith.
Brown and brown, shades of brown. Brown becomes shapes become face. A face, curly dark hair, tanned face, deep brown eyes… Her man… Zoe… Zoe, what’s… what am I…
Dan had shot Zoe, had shot her. It had seemed so real.
“Oh my God!”
Zoe jerked upward, out of her. He looked down, his mouth agape. His hands went to his erection.
A noise from… from somewhere… from… the stairs.
Dan. He had shot Zoe, had shot her. A premonition. It hasn’t happened yet.
Faith whispered, “It’s Dan!”
Zoe blinked at her. “I’m not dead.”
Louder, Faith said, “It’s Dan!”
“What?”
Another sound from the stairs.
Faith said, “He’s coming. I saw it.”
The bedroom door was open, and Dan was coming. She had forseen it.
Faith rolled off the bed, ran to the open door, and slammed it shut. She leaned her weight against the door.
Zoe said, “He shot me.”
“Help me,” Faith said. “We have to keep the door closed.”
“Why am I not dead?”
“It was a premonition. It hasn’t happened yet!”
“What?”
“I had a vision or something,” Faith said. “Help me, for God’s sake. We have to block the door. He has a gun!”
“He already shot me,” said Zoe. “Twice.”
“It wasn’t real! It was just a—” Faith stopped short. In her vision Dan had shot Zoe twice. How did Zoe know that?
“Zoe, did you have a premonition, too?”
“He shot me!”
“But you’re not—”
Something crashed into the door, knocking Faith off balance, tipping her weight away from the door. As she grabbed for the handle a second crash jolted the door open and knocked Faith sideways onto the floor.
Dan stood in the door holding a gun.
This was not how it had happened in her vision.
Dan looked at Zoe. “Zombie Goat means mustache.”
The words no sense, but they sounded familiar. And then Faith remembered her vision.
Dan raised the gun. “Why didn’t you fucking stay dead!”
Zoe ducked behind the bed.
Faith screamed, “This is not how it happened!” and rushed toward Dan.
He brought his left hand up and hit Faith below the chest.
Faith tried to breathe and could not. She fell to one knee.
Dan aimed the gun at her face. “Okay, you first this time.”
Faith could not scream. She shook her head from side to side, exaggerating the motion. No, Dan, no!
She felt her throat burst before she heard the gunshot. They’re wrong, she thought, whoever said you never hear the one that gets you.
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