screamed.

A blast shattered the quiet. Hunter turned in time to see the force of the shot propel his twin backward. Matt seemed to hang suspended a moment, standing yet weightless, before he went down.

The shotgun slipped to the floor. Sobbing, Cherry fell to her knees beside their brother.

CHAPTER 59.

In the next instant the room filled with the sound of police sirens. Minutes later, a contingent from both the state police and the West Feliciana Parish Sheriff's Department stormed the factory. Avery had learned that Lilah and Cherry had called the state police; it had taken some convincing, but they had agreed to send a trooper to the cabin. While waiting, Cherry had remembered that her father carried a shotgun in the trunk of his cruiser. She had retrieved it and gone to back up Hunter. If she hadn't, Avery knew, she and Hunter would be dead. Like Gwen. Buddy. Her father. And so many others.

Avery and Hunter had been transported by ambulance to West Feliciana Parish Hospital in St. Francisville. She'd required fifty stitches to her face and head. A CT scan had revealed neither blood nor swelling to her brain, but the doctor had decided to keep her overnight for observation anyway. Considering, she had come through relatively unscathed.

Unscathed. Tears flooded her eyes. She would never be the same. She hurt deep down, in a way no amount of pain medication, no doctor's skill, could relieve.

"Hello, gorgeous."

Avery turned her head toward the doorway. The pillowcase crackled with the movement. Hunter stood there, fully dressed, smiling at her. "What are you doing up?" she asked.

"Been released."

"No fair." She winced, thinking of Matt's knife sinking into Hunter's shoulder. "Are you all right?"

"Just a flesh wound. Real ugly, lots of blood. No real damage."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know."

His gaze held hers. In his she saw reflected the horror of the past hours. Hers, she knew, reflected the

same.

"The police talk to you, too?" he asked.

"Yes." She had been questioned by both the state police and sheriff's department. She had answered

questions until her words had begun to slur from fatigue and pain medication. The doctor had stepped in then, firmly insisting that the rest of their questions would have to wait until morning.

"You want to go for a ride?"

"A ride? Are you busting me out of here?"

"That's an idea, but no." He disappeared; a moment later reappearing pushing a wheelchair. "I've got a

surprise for you."

He rolled the chair to her bedside. After locking the chair's wheels, he lowered the bed rail and helped her into the seat.

"You know I don't need this thing."

"I know no such thing. And quit being so independent. It was hard enough getting the nurse to approve

this trip."

She looked up at him, ready to argue. He stopped her by pressing a quick kiss to her mouth.

Hunter rolled her out of the room and down the hall, toward the nurses' station. The night nurse smiled as

they went past. They moved by the empty lounge, with its drink and snack machines, then stopped at a patient's room. The door stood ajar.

Hunter nudged it the rest of the way open and wheeled her in.

A woman lay in the bed. Dangerously pale, hooked up to monitors and by IV to all manner of bags and drips.

But alive. She was alive.

"Gwen?" Avery said, her voice a husky croak.

The woman's eyelids fluttered up. She looked their way, staring blankly at Avery a moment, then her

mouth curved into a weak smile. "Avery? Is that...really-"

"Yes, it is." Tears of joy flooding her eyes, Avery climbed out of the chair and moved slowly to the other

woman's side. She caught her hand, curled her fingers tightly around Gwen's. "Matt told me you were dead."

"He thought...I was," she managed to say.

Her voice fading in and out, she recounted being shot, going down, then managing to get to her feet and

making it to the road. There, she collapsed.

Gwen's eyes closed and Avery looked up at Hunter. "How did you know she was here?"

"I heard the emergency room nurses talking about the woman brought in with a gunshot wound.

Apparently, a motorist found her unconscious by the side of Highway 421 and brought her to the emergency room. They rushed her into surgery."

"A motorist?" Avery questioned Hunter. "Out there, at that time of night?"

"A miracle," Hunter murmured. "The hand of God at work."

Her thoughts exactly. She turned back to the other woman and found Gwen looking at her, eyes wet. "Is Matt, is he-"

"Dead?" She nodded, bent and kissed her forehead. "I'm so glad you're alive."

"That's enough, you two," the nurse said quietly from the doorway behind them. "Ms. Lancaster needs her rest."

"Can't I stay?" Avery asked, not wanting to let go of Gwen's hand, afraid, irrationally, to leave her. "I

promise to be quiet."

"You need your rest as well." The woman's expression softened with understanding. "She'll be here in the morning, Ms. Chauvin."

In the morning, Avery thought. No three words had ever sounded so sweet.

EPILOGUE.

Monday, March 31, 2003 9:00 a.m.

Avery watched as Hunter shut the U-Haul trailer's door and snapped the padlock. He gave the lock a yank to make certain it was secure and turned toward her. "Ready?"

She nodded and climbed into the Blazer. Gwen had headed back to New Orleans two days ago, anxious to leave Cypress Springs behind as quickly as possible. Avery missed her already. She and Hunter had promised to stop and visit on their way through the city.

They couldn't stay long, though. Her editor expected her at her desk, bright and early the following

Monday morning. She had a story to write. A big one.

Sarah whined. She sat in the back; her pups crated in the cargo area. "It's okay, girl," Avery murmured, scratching her behind the ears. "No worries."

Avery turned forward in her seat. As she did she caught a glimpse of herself in the side mirror and cringed.

"I saw that," Hunter murmured, checking traffic and pulling away from the curb.

"I look like Frankenstein's bride. And my stitches itch."

"I think you look beautiful."

"Haven't you heard? Blind men aren't supposed to drive."

He laughed softly, reached across the console and squeezed her hand. "I'm really glad you're alive."

She curled her fingers around his, a sudden, surprising knot of tears in her throat.

They turned onto Main Street, easing past town square and its startlingly white gazebo. People stopped, looked their way. A few waved, others simply stared.

Everybody had heard the story. One bigger than the Waguespack murder. Reactions had ranged between shock, disbelief, anger. Many had expressed their sorrow, their confusion. How could this have happened? And here? Cypress Springs was such a nice place to live. A number of citizens had been brought in, questioned by the FBI about The Seven, past and present. No arrests had been made as yet.

Cypress Springs was in mourning. For its dead. For a way of life that had been built upon a lie. Change was coming.

Avery caught sight of Rauche's Dry Goods, at the corner of Main and First Streets. "Hunter, pull over."

He did, drawing the SUV to a stop in front of the store. As she had four weeks ago, she climbed out and gazed down Main Street, at the quaint buildings and lovely town square, the unchanged storefronts.

It looked wrong, she thought. An anachronism. Time marched on-life progressed, for better or worse. All else was unnatural. Like an elixir that promised eternal youth.

Hunter came to stand beside her. "You okay?"