AARON I stood and walked to my wife’s door. The top of her head was pressed to the window. I could see the part in her hair. My hand moved to the door handle and hovered. I closed my eyes for just a second and then touched the handle. The door hummed quietly as it moved up. I dropped to my knees to catch her before she fell to the ground. "Is Mommy okay?" Lucas asked. I could not see him, but I could hear him start to move. "She just tripped. Keep playing your game." She lay half in and half out of the car. Her head and shoulders were in my lap. Her hair was draped over her face.I took a deep breath. I gripped her under the shoulders and pushed myself upward onto my feet. Managed to pull her mostly free of the car before falling backward into the mud. Pushed myself up again and dragged her by the feet the rest of the way. My tears streamed down my face. They dropped into her beautiful hair. I tried so hard to keep most of her out of the mud. I was really trying. But I could not get her far enough up my body. Most of her legs were being pulled through it. A few steps later I fell again. This time I fell through the tent opening and onto the smooth clean floor. I sat up and pulled her in. I did everything I could to avoid seeing her face. I did not know why. But the idea of seeing her lifeless features would break me. I knew that. With what little time I had left, there was too much to do. I could not let that happen. With one last pull, she cleared the entry. I placed her back so that she was facing me. I sat there for a moment. I rested my hand on her shoulder. No thoughts ran through my head. I was not capable of processing them. Far too much wanted to come out. Too much wanted to be expressed that nothing did. The space beside her drew me in. The world was starting to get hazy and dark. My breathing was getting shallower. I knew that if I laid down now, I would never get up again. I removed my hand. I crawled out of the tent. I zipped it up part way so that Lucas would not accidentally see in. I looked at the graveyard. Why had Ronan sent us here? What was the point? Did the man just have a sick sense of humor?I was in the last moments of my life. Would he have really wasted it on a vindictive act? "Blackreach," I mumbled to myself. He had told me to use the word Blackreach. That word was important. Someone was supposed to meet him here. Whoever they were, I was now certain I would not be the one relaying the message. The man had thought it important enough to share. So maybe this was a way that I could save Lucas. I had to make it work. I stumbled toward the car. I finally got to the door. Lucas sat on the seat edge and looked up at me. Then he looked at my mud-covered clothes. "Why are you so dirty?" I lowered myself to my knees. I wrapped my son in another embrace. I did not let go for a long time. When I finally did, Lucas’s face was worried. The tablet was left by itself on the floor. It had fallen after slipping from his hand. "Daddy, what’s wrong?" I choked up. I looked past my son into the exposed trunk. I reached for the backpack I saw among the supplies. My hand closed around the handle and I pulled it free as I passed Lucas. I rose unsteadily, backing toward the tent and unzipping it in one rough motion. I reached inside and came away with a can of spray paint. Some of the pack’s contents fell to the ground below. I remembered making fun of Elena when she had included this in our emergency supplies. I teased her for wanting to use the disaster we were preparing for as a way to change careers. She had made it clear that sometimes you needed to leave messages. Spray paint was a perfect way to do so. I was wrong and she was right. She would hopefully be why our son lived through this. I could hear Lucas following behind me. I could feel his hand reaching for my shirt as I stumbled across the rough ground. He was pleading to be picked up. Every bit of me wanted to stop. I wanted to pull my son into another embrace. But I knew my time was short. My breathing was coming in quick gasps. It was getting darker out. Yet no clouds obscured the sun as it blazed above. It was getting harder to focus. Both with my sight and my thoughts. I fell to my knees in front of the tent. I popped the cap off the can. I made the letters as large as I could. I took time to make sure each one was clear. The curve of the tent carried me around to the other side. There I repeated the message. Lucas stood next to me. He gripped at my arm. He begged for me to look at him. He asked why Mommy was not awake yet. I knelt there, staring at the message. Blackreach. Lucas thrust himself into my lap. He wrapped his arms around my torso. "Daddy, what’s wrong?" I could not see my son through the tears that clouded my fading vision. "I love you so much, Lucas." "Stop, Daddy." I pulled away. I cupped my son’s face with my hands for what I knew would be the last time. I soaked the sensation in. The warmth of his skin. The moisture of his tears. I memorized every single feature of my little boy. "I want you to go back to the car, Lucas." "No, I don’t want to," he cried. He clung back to me. "I set an alarm on your tablet. When it goes off, you need to turn the car on. It will take you almost all the way to Granny and Grandpa’s house. It can’t get you the entire way. But I made sure the map on your tablet can guide you the rest of the way." "Come with me. Get Mommy from the tent and let’s go." I started to push myself away from my son. My pulse was hammering away in my ears. I did not have much time. Lucas tried to follow but I kept the tips of my fingers pressed against his small chest. I kept his distance. "Mommy and I need to sleep. Get your grandparents and they can come back and pick us up." "Daddy!" he screamed. "Go to the car, Lucas. Please buddy, go to the car," I pleaded. I slipped through the halfway closed tent flap. With my last bit of strength, I applied enough pressure to push my son back. I pushed him away from the entrance just far enough. I had enough time to zip and lock the tent from the inside."Daddy, Mommy!" Lucas screamed frantically. His fingers tugged at the exterior zipper. "I love you so much," I cried out as I lay next to my wife. I placed my face against the back of her head. I breathed in the sweet smell of her hair. I could hear the patter of my tears against the fabric floor of the tent. I could hear the frantic screams of Lucas trying to rip his way in. The last sound I heard, the last experience I would ever have, was the sound of my son screaming my name as my heart came to a stop.