Chapter Seven

            Race missed the driveway and stopped the car almost in the center of the brown yard. 

            Jonny took in the depressing surroundings.  A large dead tree leaned dangerously close to the roof of the house.  The yard was covered with statues of the Virgin Mary and crosses.

            She always looks the same.  Jonny looked down at the small statue of a young woman with brown hair.  Brown hair parted in the middle . . . hands at a constant state of prayer.

            Jonny lost his breath.

            Jessie is here.

            "Harry," Race called over the walkie-talkie.  "We believe Jessie may be at 436 Westchester Street.  I need back up.  No sirens! Over."

            "Don't do anything foolish! I mean it Bannon! Do you read me?  Bannon?"

            Race and Jonny jumped out as Harry was heard barking orders.

            Race started up to the house and knocked on the door.  Jonny went around the side and noted the vacant backyard.  He looked into the window of the garage and took in the white van.

            Jessie is here.

            He heard Race knock harder with no reply to his first attempt.

            Jessie was here.  Jonny froze.  He felt his heart leap out and crash into his ribs.  Jessie isn't here anymore.

            "No," he wouldn't give in to his worst fears. He wouldn't know a world without Jessica Bannon in it.

            Jonny fell to the ground and peered into the tiny basement window.  It appeared to be the laundry room but a curtain prevented him from seeing past the white machines.  He forced the small window open and slid down quietly.

            Jessie HAS to be here. 

            Jonny heard a voice chanting softly.  He moved the long curtain away, that separated the laundry room from the rest of the basement and looked at the tall blond figure. . .looking down at a small form with red hair.

            Jonny watched Race's shadow emerge slowly from the other direction. He was creeping down the stairs as quiet as possible.

            He's too late.

            Jonny lunged for the tall figure and he was sure he heard a gun go off as he was in mid air.

            Jessie looked at the canvas with her blurry vision.  The shot echoed in her head and blood filled her mouth.

            I'm not dead.

            Jessie tried to move but couldn't. 

            I'm not dead.

            Something heavy crushed her.

            I'm not dead.

            Jessie felt herself being pulled up.  She had a head rush that blinded her momentarily.

            I'm not dead.

            Someone was holding her.  Someone was rocking her back and forth.  Someone was breathing warmly in her ear and pulling her hair back from her face.

            I'm not dead!  The voice in Jessie's head came through and she realized to her relief, she had not been shot. 

            She opened her eyes and focused down at her legs as they were slowly being untapped.

            Jessie looked to her side and followed the strong chest up to the handsome face.

            Jonny

            "Are you okay Jess?" he was breathless as he examined her swollen lip and bruised cheek.

            "Just a minute ponchita," her father whispered as he hacked at the layers of tape with his pocketknife.

            "Micah," she replied in a mechanical voice.

            "He's dead," her father grunted. "I shot him."

            "It's over," Jonny whispered.

            "Hot Damn," came a gruff voice from behind.  "You okay Race?"

            "Yes, Harry," Race kissed the top of Jessie's forehead and gently touched her purple cheek, all the while Jonny looked on without expression or letting up his hold on Jessie.