Chapter 7 - The Red and Blue Lights
From three miles away down the mountain road, the high-pitched yelp of emergency sirens pierced the sub-arctic air. It wasn't one car. It was the synchronized scream of multiple state trooper cruisers and an EMS transport climbing the icy switchbacks of the ridge.
Arthur looked toward the driveway, then back at Henderson, then down at me.
"You ruined everything," he hissed at me, his face twisting into an ugly mask of hatred. "Everything I built."
"You ruined yourself, Dad," I whispered through broken, bloody lips.
He turned on his heel and sprinted back toward his house, tossing the flare into the snow. Henderson shuffled down his porch steps in heavy boots, dropping to his knees beside me in the snow. His rough, calloused hands were surprisingly gentle as he wrapped a heavy wool military blanket around my torso.
"Hold on, girl," Henderson murmured, checking my carotid pulse with steady fingers. "Don't you dare close your eyes. You hear those sirens? Anchorage finest are bringing the bus. Just hold on."
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Through the frosted window of the Carver house, chaos had erupted. Denise was at the glass door, screaming frantically into her hands. Inside, Lily was hysterically tearing through the dining room, looking for her lost phone, completely oblivious to the fact that her vanity stream had broadcasted Arthur’s cold confession and Henderson’s armed standoff to the entire world.
A fleet of five white-and-blue Alaska State Trooper SUVs roared into the long driveway, tires throwing rooster tails of packed slush as they boxed in Arthur’s luxury pickup truck.
