Chapter Twelve
December 16
th
, 2020
A few hours with Mama Rook had put everyone a little more back at ease, although Ash had immediately commented on how Andy had gone straight for getting a drink, when he was known to dabble with drinking alcohol only occasionally. He'd asked for a Coke with a heavy splash of rum and had even needed a refill. During the time at the hotel, he'd been twitchy, jumpy and almost inconsolably nervous.
His mother had reminded him that it hadn't been his fault, and within the first hour of their waiting, news had come in that they hadn't even been shooting at
him
. The shooting had happened between the two groups of protesters, and a woman had died, and another woman had been arrested. He hadn't recognized the name of either woman involved in the matter but was at least a little relieved not to see Marie's name there in either case, nor anyone else he might've known. They did call out that it was outside of his book signing, though. Andy was certain his name was going to be mentioned again in the news stories about the matter tonight, but he hoped it was more of just in a foot note capacity, so that the news could focus on the real conflict between the two sides and just how heightened that tension truly was. It wasn't something he wanted the news to blink and look away from.
All was
not
well across the country.
When Lexi came back to the hotel, Andy had calmed down a little bit, but not entirely. His hands had stopped shaking at least, but he was still more than a little hyperaware of his surroundings, all his senses cranked up to 150% against his own will. He felt like he could hear things halfway across the hotel, and the sound of a suitcase tumbling over made him jump much more openly than he'd have liked. It wasn't a gunshot, but it sure as fuck
felt
like one in his ears. He spent much longer than he wanted reminding himself it wasn't.
Once Lexi had given them the all-clear, they'd all loaded back up into the SUVs and headed straight to the airport, Ash on one side of him, Sarah on the other, Niko in the front passenger seat, Lexi behind the wheel. He was waggling his leg impatiently until he felt Sarah put her hand on his knee, smiling over at him, understanding his nervousness.
"Sorry," he said, looking outside of the window, unable to focus on much of anything for very long. "I keep hearing the gunshot replaying over and over in my mind. It felt like it was right in front of me. In front of me, or, or behind me or..."
"Andy," Sarah said, taking his hand in hers, holding it firmly. "You heard the report. It wasn't you they were shooting at."
"I don't think that really matters, Sarah," Andy said quietly. His voice had a defeated tone to it that even
he
didn't care for, but he couldn't find a way to shake himself loose from the sense of impending doom that was crowding in on his soul. "It could've been. All the guns, all the talk about how dangerous it is... Niko's told me. Lexi's told me. Melody's told me. Fucking
Phil
has been telling me non-fucking-stop. The danger is fucking real, it's all around me, and I need to stop wearing fucking
blinders
. How could I be so fucking stupid?"
"You're not fucking stupid, Andy," Sarah said, putting one of her arms around him, trying to provide some comfort. "You're human. There's nothing wrong with being human. It's a good thing, having faith that the world around you isn't all doom and gloom. There's enough of that in the world.
You
can do better. You usually do, and we love you for that. You've always been trying to see the best in everyone and everything. The best in people, the best in the world, the best in those around you." She tensed up a little bit. "Please don't lose that. Please? We're all relying on you, Andy."
Ash was holding onto his other hand, interlacing her fingers with his. "You know what people are capable of, love. You know the human condition better than anyone I've ever met. You've written stories about the good and the bad, about the heroes and the villains and how that line isn't always as clearcut as we as people would like it to be. Because in the end, nobody sees themselves as a villain, and anyone who sees themselves as a hero is a goddamn narcissist. There's... at the end of the day, there's just people. People, for better or worse, don't always do what's best for them, or think about what's going to happen more than thirty seconds in the future. It's a different world out there now, but it's not
that
different. People are still just
people
. They're still running in fear, struggling against the darkness, trying to make sense out of the madness that's everywhere we look. I know this whole thing is going to change you, baby," she said, placing her head on his shoulder, trying to be close enough to practically climb inside his heart and help bolster up the defenses. "You'd be a fool for it
not
to. But you can't let it
define
you. You can't be that person who got shot at once and spent the rest of his life wondering why he didn't get killed. Especially when they weren't even shooting