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Chapter 3: The Shattering

Chapter 3: The Shattering

The descent felt endless, the seconds stretching into an eternity as Marcus’s eyes darted across the chaotic scene below. The park that had been filled with joy moments ago was now a sea of confusion and fear. People screamed, their voices carrying a desperate, raw edge as they scattered, seeking cover. The air buzzed with panic, and more shots rang out, sharper, closer.

Marcus clutched Emmeline to his chest as the Ferris wheel finally jolted to a halt. He didn’t bother waiting for the operator to unlock the bar; with practiced precision, he lifted Emmeline over and dropped to the ground, keeping low as his instincts took over.

“Daddy, what’s happening?” Emmeline’s voice trembled, tears brimming in her wide, frightened eyes.

He forced his voice to stay calm, to sound strong. “Listen to me, sweetheart. We need to find Mom and Alex. Hold on to me, and don’t let go, okay?”

She nodded, her small fingers gripping his arm so tightly that he could feel the tremor running through her. He pressed her close to his side as he crouched, moving quickly, his eyes scanning for any sign of Sophia and Alex. The park was chaos, people sprinting in every direction, ducking behind carnival stalls and benches, parents clutching their children with terrified expressions.

Marcus kept moving, weaving between the panicked crowd, his heart thundering in his chest as he neared the picnic area. His eyes locked onto the blanket they’d left behind, now trampled and stained. The sight made his stomach clench, a cold dread crawling up his spine. He pushed the feeling down, locking it away, because there was no room for fear now. No room for anything but action.

“Stay close,” he whispered to Emmeline as they moved forward, his gaze sweeping the area. Then he saw them.

Sophia lay sprawled on the ground, her eyes open but lifeless, an expression of shock frozen on her face. Next to her, Alex lay still, his small hand outstretched as if reaching for his mother. Blood stained the ground around them, stark against the bright autumn leaves scattered like forgotten confetti.

Marcus’s mind screamed in silent agony, but he forced it into a box, locked it, and set it aside. There would be time for grief later, if there was a later. Right now, Emmeline was still in danger, and the gunfire hadn’t stopped.

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A sharp bark of orders in the distance drew his attention. Through the blur of movement, he saw them—men in dark clothing, their faces obscured, moving with calculated efficiency as they advanced. They weren’t panicked. They weren’t part of the crowd. They were methodical, picking out targets, clearing the area like professionals.

Marcus’s training surged to the forefront. He wrapped an arm around Emmeline, shielding her with his body as he moved to the nearest cover—a row of game booths. He crouched behind a stall, pressing her against him, listening to the shouts, the crackle of gunfire, the thud of running feet.

“Emmeline,” he said, looking into her tear-streaked face. “I need you to stay very quiet and do exactly what I tell you, okay?”

Her eyes were wide with fear, but she nodded, clutching his shirt as if it were a lifeline. Marcus swallowed, pushing down the grief that threatened to break through. There would be time for that later. If they survived.

He peeked around the corner of the booth, assessing their route out. The park’s main gate was too far, blocked by panicked crowds and the advancing gunmen. He scanned for another way—an opening that would lead them toward safety, away from the killers moving through the park like wolves.

There. A maintenance path behind the rides. It was narrow and cluttered, but it would lead them out of the park and into the woods on the other side. Away from the chaos.

“Stay with me,” Marcus whispered, moving swiftly and keeping Emmeline close. They ducked behind overturned tables and broken benches, each step calculated, each breath measured. The sounds of panic filled the air, punctuated by the occasional, sharp crack of gunfire that made Emmeline flinch.

Suddenly, a searing pain tore through Marcus’s side. He gasped, the breath knocked out of him as he felt the impact of a bullet, hot and sharp, ripping through his flesh. His grip on Emmeline slipped as he staggered, and she fell forward, landing hard on the ground.

“Emmeline!” he choked out, reaching for her, but another burst of gunfire cut through the chaos, and time seemed to slow.

He watched in horror as the bullets found his daughter. Her small body jerked under the onslaught, eyes wide with shock, the life in them fading as she crumpled against the ground. The world around him seemed to dissolve into a blur of noise and color, the edges of his vision going dark as he dropped to his knees, powerless.

A roar built in his chest, a sound of pure anguish that never made it past his lips. The pain in his side was nothing compared to the agony tearing through him as he reached for Emmeline, his fingers brushing her lifeless hand.