Beneath Dark Skies (Rolling Hills Ranch #1)

47. Kenji

FORTY-SEVEN

KENJI

GRIEF

Day 443

I watch as Farron immediately shuts down the second Mr. Abel's body hits the ground. Her arms fall limply to her sides, the gun slipping from her grasp and hitting the ground with a dull thud. The blast of the shot was so loud I could feel the deafening boom reverberate in my chest. But now, there is nothing but silence. The world is entirely still, Farron included.

Adrian and Theo look like they're in shock, immobilized by what they've witnessed. Their faces are pale, eyes wide, as they stand rooted to the spot. I know this isn't what Farron needs right now, so I step up to her, slowly placing my arm on her shoulder. She doesn't move. I don't even know if she's breathing.

“Farron?” I say softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

She slowly turns her head towards me, but her eyes are glazed over, staring somewhere far into the distance. She's looking at me, but she's not seeing me, and I’m terrified she's completely dissociating from herself right now.

“Farron, you're okay. It's okay. You did what you had to do. You showed him mercy, stopped him from turning into something he would never want to have become.”

She releases a shuddering breath, her shoulders trembling. “You're right,” she says, her tone quiet and robotic in a way I've never heard before. “I'm going to go clean up and go to bed.” Her words are devoid of emotion, a stark contrast to the fiery spirit I've come to know.

As she turns away and makes her way back to the front of the cottage, her movements are stilted and slow, as if she's forgotten how to walk. Each step she takes seems to require immense effort, like her body is weighed down by the enormity of what she's just done.

I glance back at Adrian and Theo, their faces mirroring my concern. “Give her some space,” I murmur to them, my hands moving along. “She needs time.”

Theo nods slowly, his eyes filled with sorrow. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not like this.”

Adrian clenches his fists, his knuckles turning white before he responds out loud. “We need to figure out how the undead got in,” he says, his voice tight with anger and fear. “We can't let this happen again.”

I nod in agreement, but my mind remains with Farron. I watch her disappear to the other side of the cottage, her form swallowed by the shadows. The sight of her retreating figure breaks something inside me. To see her like this, so broken and detached, is almost too much.

Turning back to the others, I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “Let's find something to wrap his body in so we can get him over to his home,” I say, my voice firm but laced with sorrow. “Jay deserves to be able to say goodbye and decide if and when he wants to bury him.”

They nod, understanding the situation's urgency and the importance of giving Jay closure. The moment's weight hangs heavy over us as we make our way to the main Hill house.

As we approach, we find both Henry and Nora waiting outside, their eyes red and swollen from tears. The sight of them standing together in their grief brings a lump to my throat.

“He was bitten, wasn’t he?” Henry asks in a resigned whisper, his voice trembling with the truth he already knows. The gunshot wasn’t exactly quiet, and it probably only meant one thing to everyone in a place like this.

I have no choice but to nod. “We want to get a sheet or a blanket to wrap him up before we bring him home.”

Henry nods in understanding, his face etched with pain. Nora quickly runs inside to fetch a blanket, her movements hurried yet careful, as if rushing might break her more.

We make our way back to Mr. Abel’s body, the air thick with tension and sorrow. The silence between us is heavy, filled with unspoken grief and regret. As we wrap his body in the blanket, my eyes are drawn to Farron’s cottage repeatedly. I can’t shake the image of her broken figure from my mind.

With Mr. Abel wrapped carefully, we lift him gently, the weight of his body a stark reminder of the life that has been lost. We carry him slowly, each step measured, as we make our way to the Abel home. Henry walks with us, his shoulders slumped, the grief of losing his friend etched deeply into his features.

The journey feels endless, each footfall echoing in the stillness of the night. As we approach the Abel home, the reality of what we’re doing sinking in deeper. Jay will have to face the loss of his grandfather, and the thought makes my chest tighten. First, his mom, now this?

We finally arrive, and I knock gently on the door, hoping Jay is ready for what’s to come. We don’t get an answer, and with the assumption that Jay is still out there checking the perimeter, we open the door ourselves and step inside. We carefully place Mr. Abel’s body on the couch, covering him gently with the blanket.

As we wait, the silence is filled with the sounds of the night, the world continuing on despite our grief.

When the door finally opens some time later, Jay stands there with Todd, his face a mixture of confusion and fear. He takes one look at us, at the blanket-wrapped body on the couch, and his expression crumbles.

“Jay,” I say softly, my voice breaking. “We brought him home.”

Jay steps inside, tears streaming down his face as he moves to the couch. He falls to his knees beside his grandfather, his sobs filling the room—a raw, heartbreaking expression of his pain. The sound pierces through the silence, echoing off the walls and magnifying the sorrow.

I step back, giving him the space he needs to grieve. My own heart feels heavy, weighed down by what has just happened. Glancing back towards the door, I see the others standing there, their faces mirroring our grief and loss. Mr. Hill’s eyes are red-rimmed, his jaw clenched as he tries to hold back his tears. Todd is frozen, looking like he wants to run to comfort his best friend but can’t find the strength to move. Theo looks lost, staring at the scene with wide, uncomprehending eyes. Adrian stands slightly apart, his face a mask of regret and guilt, and I know he blames himself for not being faster tonight, as if that could have stopped this from happening.

“We’ll be outside if you need us,” I tell Jay softly. He nods, unable to speak, his focus solely on his grandfather’s lifeless form.

We step outside, leaving Henry and Todd inside with Jay. The cool night air is strikingly distinct from the oppressive warmth inside the house. The stars above seem indifferent to our pain, shining brightly in the clear sky. As we gather on the porch, the impact of tonight’s events settles over us—a shared burden of grief, loss, and guilt.

Adrian leans against the railing, his head bowed. “This isn’t supposed to happen,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible.

Theo’s hands tremble as he lifts them up to sign to me. “How did they get in?” he asks. “We need to find out.”

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “Let’s make sure everyone else is safe and clean up, ” I tell them. My movements are firm despite the shakiness I feel within. “We’ll deal with everything else tomorrow.”