A story about the perversions of war, with all the
vises; murder, rape and mayhem.
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, 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
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.
END
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