Ella awoke to find herself drenched in sweat for the third time that night. Her mind continued to replay the same dream on a loop. The horror of the bombing repeated endlessly. The dreams were not overly unique. They followed a clear structure. They always started with her reliving the mundane parts of her past. Running errands, cooking at home, enjoying a walk in the park. Then the scene would rapidly change.

In the first nightmare, she found herself in a field of broken bodies. An uncountable number of human body parts littered the gore-stained ground. Everywhere she stepped the sound of breaking bones followed. She would often slip in the pools of blood that caked the ground like spilled paint. At first, she had tried to weave her way around the gore but found that impossible. What compelled her to continue walking she did not know.

In the second, she wandered a graveyard. The dead clawing up from their tombs. Grabbing at her and spitting forth the vilest insults. Most were in the early stages of decay. Maggots spilling from every orifice. Rotting meat slid off the bone and liquified on the ground with the consistency of soap. The flies were the worst part. They buzzed around in clouds so thick you couldn't see through them. They covered the ground like freshly fallen snow. Their eternal buzzing nearly drove her mad.

The third was filled with snippets of random conversations from the riot. Officers discussing their kids waiting at home. The rioters discussions about their plans for the following day. The conversations hadn’t come from the riot itself. They felt real enough in the dream to make her connect with each person there. Near the end of the dream, the sound of wailing families filled her mind.

The dreams all ended the same. A ticking would start. Indiscernible from background noise at first. The sound's source always began from her back, but as the dream went on it would move away from her. It only got louder as it did so. By the end, the sound of the ticking would drown out all other noise. Until the explosion pulled her from the horror of sleep.

Ella hadn’t moved from Sam’s arms since waking. Her constant stirring didn’t seem to affect him. He had remained asleep following her first dream. His slow breathing and tight hold quickly calmed her down. The calm would bring back the sleep and the cycle would repeat.

After the third dream, a panic set in. Was her sleep going to be like this forever? If it was, she didn’t ever want to sleep again. Ella knew that was delusional. Her body needed sleep. It would eventually force her no matter what she did. Knowing fully well it was impossible Ella vowed to never sleep again. She didn’t last more than ten minutes before rest once again consumed her.

Ella found herself walking her city’s streets in the pitch dark. She was back to carrying the backpack. The bag weighed her down. The weight was so heavy she didn’t know how she moved. The straps dug into her sore shoulders. She was keenly aware she was carrying a bomb. She nevertheless felt undeterred. She knew with certainty the consequences of carrying the bag forward. The lives it would claim were no matter. They were nothing to her. Strangers in a crowd.

Ella quickly found herself staring at the base of a lamp post. The tall pole curved so that its light shined directly on her. Everything the cone of light did not touch was pure black. She laid the bag at the base of the lamp post. A tinge of fear rippled up her spine. A feeling of dread chilled her mind. Ella shook her head. Calm replaced the fear and she stepped out of the light. A ticking so quiet it was almost impossible to hear started from her back.

Ella turned her back to the post and began to walk into the endless black void. The sounds of foreign footsteps made her spin on her heel. She saw a lone figure approach the bag. She couldn’t make out who it was. A feeling tickled the back of her mind. She moved closer. A figure in all black had bent over the backpack while curiously prodding at it.

“Stop that,” Ella stammered. The figure looked up right into her face. Her vision unnaturally zoomed into its face. Ella stood rigid. She stared with horror into a pair of bright chestnut eyes. Sam sat crouched over her bag. His face betrayed a mix of terror and disgust.

“Sam,” Ella screamed. “Get away from the bag.”

Sam didn’t move. He only continued to stare. Ella’s gut churned. Her breath caught in her throat. It felt like she was being choked by a hundred invisible hands. The sound of ticking pounded through her mind. It made focusing hard.

“What have you done?” Sam’s words reached her ears long after his lips had moved. The sound hit her like the air of a passing train. The distortion left her ears ringing. Like a flashbulb going off, the world went bright. The explosion that followed consumed everything including the dream.

Ella’s eyelids flashed open. She lay in Sam’s arms, face pressed a few inches from his chest. Sam’s revolted face was burned into her brain as if pressed by a hot iron. The afterimage painted itself onto his chest as if it had materialized in the real world. No matter where she looked it would appear.

Her fourth dream was the worst yet. Sam’s face revealed the horror she had committed, and his judgment of it. That couldn’t be how he felt, could it? He hadn’t said anything to her about the bombing. He hadn’t asked a single question. Nor did he show any sign of judgment. Sam’s rejection of her initiation popped into her mind. A fear coiled in her gut. Was he avoiding her because of what she'd done?

Ella thought back on the day. Sam had still seemed in love with her. The way he held her and the way his eyes lit up when they kissed proved it. His refusal of sex, however, left her feeling adrift. She wasn’t certain what he really felt. She was confident that she hadn’t lost him yet. His refusal needled her like a thorn stuck in her finger. She needed to rip it out for the pain to go away.

She had tried to last night, but Sam had pushed her away. He claimed to be tired. A sentiment that on its face seemed true. The more Ella thought about it, the less she thought it was the true reason. He was still mad was the conclusion she landed on. She did not know how to fix that, as she wasn’t exactly sure what he was still mad about. She had done enough over the past three days to warrant his anger but he said he had forgiven her. She had assumed it was blanket forgiveness, but what if it was for only one of her transgressions?

She pushed the thought from her mind. She would just have to ask Sam and hope he gave a straight answer. She thought about waking him. Then thought better of it after seeing his peaceful face. She gave him a quick peck on the lips before sliding out from his arms and dressing.

She threw on a pair of pajama shorts. Pink polka dots stuck out from the white background. She covered her bare chest with one of Sam’s infinite number of black shirts. It hung a little past the start of her thighs, but its width was three sizes too big. His shirt still smelt like him. She realized she had grabbed a dirty shirt instead of a clean one. Oh well, she thought.

She made her way down the stairs this time watching each step to avoid tripping. It was still dark out, and no light peaked over the horizon. Ella was still tired. The constant waking left her groggy, but she didn’t feel as exhausted as yesterday.

Izzy remained asleep on the couch though her sleep looked anything but peaceful. She twisted and turned at an alarming pace. Izzy moved so erratically that Ella wondered if she was actually asleep. Ella became more confident in her original assessment after a few minutes of silence. Izzy’s complete lack of acknowledgment of Ella’s presence solidified her conclusion further.

Ella grabbed a cup of coffee and sat at the table. She looked around one final time at the place she had called home for the last year. It hadn’t felt particularly special a few days ago. It was only another place to reside until they found something better.

Only in the moment did Ella feel it shift into a place of extreme importance to her. She realized that it was the last time she would be here. She remembered the absurd amount of time she had put into painting the walls. The memories of the good times with Sam. Every inch of the place had a memory that she treasured. In mere hours it would all be left behind.

Ella spotted a single China plate sitting on the drying rack. The overhead fume light provided enough light to reveal a spotless exterior. She wondered why it still sat there. Sam had done the dishes throughout the day and had put them away. Why had he left this one out? It was long dry and perfectly clean. Ella stood from her seat and walked over to the plate. She grabbed ahold of it and attempted to place it back in its cupboard.

The plate caught the edge of the cupboard and was knocked from her hand. It fell in a spinning arc. Summersaulting through the air until hit the ground and shattered. The pieces flew everywhere. The sound was loud and sudden. It made Ella jump. Her throat caught as she attempted to muffle a scream.

Izzy’s form shot up from the couch. She spent a few seconds rubbing her eyes before looking around. Ella noticed the fear on her face. The sun was beginning to rise and its first rays streaked through the big window to illuminate the room.

“What was that?” Izzy’s harsh whisper scared Ella more than the shattered plate.

“I dropped a plate. I’m sorry to have woken you, Izzy.” Izzy got her breathing under control before waving off Ella’s concern.

“It was for the best. I was having a terrible dream.” Those words caught Ella’s attention.

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“You get them too?” she asked.

“All night long,” Izzy replied.

Ella nodded slowly while she moved to grab a broom. “Ever since yesterday whenever I sleep it’s all I see.”

Izzy nodded in agreement. “It will be like that for a while I expect.”

Izzy responded to Ella’s question before she could ask it. “How long exactly I’m not sure, but one day it will lessen. Though I don’t think it will ever vanish.”

“That’s a relief,” Ella said as she let out a sigh. At least it wouldn’t occur as often as it did last night. It was a cold comfort, but she would take what she could get.

It took Ella less than two minutes to sweep up all the China pieces and throw them in the trash. She would have to apologize to Sam when he woke up. By the time she got back to her cup of coffee, Izzy had joined her. The two women sat in silence each sipping their black gold. Izzy spoke up first.

“Is everything alright between you and Sam?”

“I think so,” Ella replied. She said it with a confidence she didn’t feel.

“Why? Does something seem wrong?”

Izzy looked away before responding. “No nothing seems wrong; I was just curious.”

Izzy chuckled slightly in a vain attempt to break the awkward silence. Though Izzy laughed she looked like she had something more to say. They sat neither of them willing to speak first. The pause in the talking dragged on until it embraced an eerie quality.

“Sam seems like a nice guy,” Izzy finally said, cracking the silence that had become like a thick pane of glass. Ella knew what this was. Izzy was trying to learn more about her relationship. She sensed it wasn’t entirely for the sake of satisfying curiosity. A rush of annoyance hit Ella. She decided to end this before it went any further.

“He’s better than nice,” Ella replied, “He’s amazing.”

She continued without pausing. “He treats me so well. He cooks and cleans his half of the time. He believes in me like no one else ever has.”

Ella took a breath. “He is kind, considerate, and above all loves me more than anything.”

She finished with, “And I love him too.”

Izzy had stumbled into a conversation she was unprepared for. Her mouth gaped like a dead fish. Ella wondered if she had gone overboard. She had been right that Izzy was trying to parcel out the problems of her and Sam’s relationship. The look she had gotten gave away everything. Ella began to regret telling Izzy about her fight with Sam. Had it given her false ideas of Ella’s intentions?

Either way, Ella had set the record straight. She would do no more bad-mouthing of Sam, especially in front of Izzy. As if he heard his name from the void Sam stepped from the stairs and strolled into the kitchen. His presence cut off any response Izzy could make to Ella’s tirade. Something both girls were grateful for.

Sam’s face looked hard. His sleep did not appear to be restful. He looked more tired than he did last night. A quick exchange of good morning between the trio sucked all the awkwardness from the air.

“Ella, pack whatever you want to keep because I’m burning the rest in an alcohol-induced rage tonight,” Sam said so playfully that Ella nearly missed the meaning behind his words. It was part of the cover story she had made for them last night.

“Will do,” Ella replied while turning toward Izzy. “I’m going to need your help. We won’t have long to pack but we’ll have to find things of mine that fit you.”

Izzy nodded in agreement. Both women stood and made for the stairs. Sam called after them.

“You’ve got two hours. The sooner we leave the less of a chance you’ll be spotted by any nosy neighbors.”

Neither Ella nor Izzy acknowledged him as they climbed the stairs. Both women had grim faces like they were going into battle. Hard choices would have to be made.

Two hours of intense debate later, Ella and Izzy were packed. Between them, they carried three duffle bags of clothing and the necessities of cleanliness. Sam had packed a large quantity of dried foods they could microwave over the next two weeks. After another twenty minutes of packing Sam’s truck was ready to take them to their temporary haven.

The girls would hide in the tail of the truck. It wasn’t exactly safe, but not being spotted was far more important than surviving an accident. Sam’s Ford F150 had a black cover to protect what was inside from wind and rain. It would work perfectly to hide them. Ella and Izzy snuggled together wrapped in a blanket to keep out the early morning chill.

“Stay quiet and don’t make a noise, no matter what,” Sam said with a concern that turned Ella’s stomach upside down. Was he expecting them to run into trouble? It had only been a little over a day since the bombing. There was no chance their identities had been discovered. The police force wasn’t that good. But the look Sam gave them made Ella think otherwise.

“Okay,” the two girls said together.

Ella threw in two thumbs up for good measure. A sight that made Sam’s mouth turn into a slight smile. He closed the cover shrouding the woman in darkness. It was eerie at first but soon the girls’ eyes adjusted to the low levels of light. They heard the engine of the truck turn over. The beast roared to life. A series of clinks and clacks followed which was the tell-tale sign of the garage door opening.

“Phase one commence,” Ella breathed as if she were in a spy novel.

Izzy looked at her like she was insane. The tension on her face was plain. She was not enjoying any aspect of this. Ella felt a little concerned about finding some adventure in it. The truck moved. Slowly it backed up and then turned what felt like one hundred and eighty degrees but was in reality only ninety.

They started to drive. The further she moved from the safety of her old home the worse Ella felt. A feeling of venerability and anxiousness clouded her mind. The feeling of adventure died inside her replaced by a low-level feeling of paranoia. Several scenarios started to pop into her head. Her breathing became tight, then labored. Suddenly the cramped space started to feel like it was shrinking. Ella started to panic. She had never been claustrophobic but in the back of the truck with no room to move, she was losing it.

Izzy grabbed her hand and squeezed. That pulled Ella back from a complete breakdown.

“It’s going to be all right.”

Ella could barely hear Izzy’s words due to the sound of the engine and the road. Izzy was right. they were hidden in the back of the truck. No one knew who they were or where they were. Everything was going to be alright. She was safe and hidden as long as she stayed calm.

They were barely out of the side streets that led to her home when a siren lit up. Ella went rigid. Izzy’s hand became like a vice. It crushed her own. Ella was certain she was doing the same back to Izzy. Neither girl breathed as Sam slowed and pulled to the side of the road. The truck came to a stop. The siren came closer. Their doom was almost upon them. It was over already.

Ella heard a door open and then forcibly close. A pair of boots strode along the tar and were barely audible as they approached the driver’s side of the truck. Ella heard the clinking of keys endemic to that of a police officer. She groaned internally. Externally she was as still and silent as a statue.

Ella heard Sam roll down his window. The window motors whirled as they dragged the piece of glass into the depth of the truck door. The officer approached and the sound of keys and boots stopped all at once.

“Good morning officer.” Sam sounded calm like he was out just running some morning errands. “What can I help you with?”

The officer said nothing for a short time. Ella could picture him sweeping the interior of the car with a suspicious eye. She began to fear the worst. Then the officer spoke.

“I pulled you over to ask if you have seen two fugitives on the run?” The officer’s voice was a high-pitched squeak. She wondered if his belt was too tight or if his balls had yet to drop. The latter thought almost made her nervously giggle.

“I don’t know,” Sam replied. “What would these fugitives look like?”

Sam was doing a good job at keeping his voice even and unconcerned. He sounded as if were having a friendly interaction with a stranger on the street.

“They are two women,” The officer said. “One is white the other is Mexican.”

He spat after saying, Mexican. Sam gave an appropriate pause as if he was trying to recall.

“Haven’t seen any women lately officer. I Wish I had,” Sam said adding a slight chuckle. Ella felt that the lie might be unconvincing. Sam was too attractive to make his statement believable. As if to confirm her suspicion the officer did not laugh with Sam.

"Do you happen to know their names?" Sam asked with a tone that implied only a slight curiosity.

"If I've heard of them, I might be able to point you in the right direction," Sam added almost too hastily. The officer gave a long pause. Ella could picture him staring down Sam with suspicious and beady eyes. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the cop spoke.

"We have yet to identify the terrorists beyond their race and sex."

“Sorry, it seems I can’t be much help,” Sam responded. A dejected tone slithered in Sam's words. When had he been such a good actor?

The officer did not return an answer right away. An awkward silence followed. A panic started to well up inside Ella. What was taking him so long? She couldn't possibly imagine that Sam came off as overly suspicious unless the officer knew something they didn't.

“You’re pretty polite. A little too polite.” The officer commented suspicion oozing from his high-pitched squeak.

"Few people today have the balls to speak casually to me. Most fear me, and I like that. Fear means you understand the dynamic between us. You seem to have no fear."

Ella's stomach shot into her throat and her whole body began to shake. The officer had found them out. He knew that She and Izzy were hiding in the back of the truck. In only a matter of seconds would they be found and hauled away. The officer was either a super sleuth or genuinely crazy.

.I talk with you casually because I know in reality you're just doing a job. So why treat you any less mutual respect than I would a normal person?”

The cop did not answer. What Ella wouldn't give to see his expression. Only being able to listen to the conversation left her ignorant of how the officer was truly feeling.

“My father was a police officer,” Sam continued. “I grew up knowing the dangers you all face, and I respect it. I can’t imagine putting my life on the line every day. You guys are truly heroes no matter what other people say."

Ella cringed at Sam’s words. They seemed far too buttery for anyone to take them seriously. The officer gave a light humph.

“You’re right about that,” the officer exclaimed. “I’ve worked in this job for five years now, and the shit I have to deal with daily by the scum that lives here is appalling.”

Sam’s voice didn’t wavier or break as he responded. “My father always said the same thing up until he died. You guys get a bad rap for no reason. I hope people start to change their minds and see the good work you do.”

A slight pause appeared in the conversation before the officer tapped the car twice. Was that some kind of signal to inform other officers to move in on the vehicle? Ella could feel herself continue to slip closer to a full panic.

"Your father sounded like a good man. I'm sorry to hear he passed."

Sam didn't respond to that. Leaving Ella to wonder what was going on outside of the pitch-black trunk.

“Well, I feel bad stopping a good citizen like yourself.” The officer's squeak cut above the noise of the engine. “Make sure to call us if you see those fugitives, they’ll likely be traveling together.”

“Don’t worry officer I’ll be sure to let you know.”

With that, the officer's signature jingle started up again as he walked back towards his car. Ella heard him shout at a passing car that had slowed to get around them.

“Pull over! Yes, right now. No, I don’t care that you’re running late. I said pull the fuck over!”

She could feel Sam bring the truck out of the park and begin to step on the gas. As the truck was about to pull away Ella could still hear the cop shouting at the next driver. Suddenly a shot rang out. The sound reverberated in the bed of the truck like an amplifier. The pain that leaked from Ella's ears left her head ringing. All sound seemed to fade into a dull drone. She could hardly tell that a scream had left her lips before a hand folded around her mouth and cut it short.