In the dark area of the park, under the shadows of that small forest, Adam heard the siren of the ambulances. The shrill whistle of the fire brigade soon joined the commotion, calling on pedestrians and drivers to make way, and he watched them going down the street; a string of red and yellow lights painting the night, rushing to the rescue of the victims of the car accident.

How good it would have been if one of them had made a detour to help him!

Trying to calm his heartbeat, he squeezed his bare chest. Stopping the waves of fear was impossible. No breath of air could fill the void in his lungs, nor movement that could stop his shuddering. Maybe wearing a t-shirt would have helped him not feel so exposed, so… helpless. But the soldier had taken him out of the house in such a hurry that he hadn’t even had time to take one, and now they were there, cornered.

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The chase was over. The executioner had found them.

Nothing in his almost thirty years of life had prepared him for something like this, and from what he sensed, that was the last thing he would experience.

That night, everything ended for Adam—For Adam and for the soldier at his side, his own twin brother.

Clenching his fists expectantly, he witnessed the advance of the implacable enemy. The accident back there, on the avenue, the fire, and the destruction: would that be his post-mortem legacy? How had he let that happen? How had they gotten there?

So, his mind went back in search of those answers. And then…