Available Darkness Season 1

here.”
    “What happens to Abigail? How is she supposed to get by? How do I know you’ll leave her alone?”
    “You have my word,” Duncan said.
    “Your word? What good is that?”
    “We haven’t touched Hope, have we? Even though you didn’t really live up to your end of the bargain.”
    John sat up in his seat, “I tried to die! I was sold out.”
    “Relax,” Duncan said, “I figured something went wrong when I saw you all over the fucking news. As for Abigail, she can stay with your friend, or we can find a family for her.”
    “No families,” John said. “If I do this, she stays with Larry.”
    “Fair enough,” Duncan said, “so we have a deal?”
    John stared out at the water, “Do I have a choice?”
    Duncan said, “We don’t choose our fate. Our fate chooses us.”

    **

    The exchange happened two nights later. Duncan’s agents escorted Abigail to the cabin. The minute the van door opened, she leaped out, Teddy in her hands, and ran towards John with open arms.
    He swept her up and held her tight, hugging her so tight he was afraid she would pop.
    “My angel!” she cried happily.
    “Did they hurt you?” he asked.
    “No, I hurt a few of them, though.”
    John laughed. Abigail giggled — and it killed him that he might never hear that giggle again.
    “Did they tell you why you got to come back?”
    Abigail looked confused, “What do you mean?”
    Fuck.
    “Listen, they weren’t going to let you go. They wanted to turn you into an assassin for them. That’s why they grabbed you up. It’s what they tried to get me to do.”
    “Then why’d they let me go?”
    “I told them I would work for them if they set you free.” He’d thought of lying, but there was no point; she would see through it. They were too tuned in to one another.
    “What?”
    “I have to go away for a while, and you’re gonna stay with Larry until I’m done.”
    Abigail’s face was blank except for the pain, “No! You can’t leave me!”
    “I’m so sorry,” John said, wiping tears from her face. At the van, the agents beckoned. It was time to go.
    “I have to go now, Abigail. But I swear, I will come back as soon as I can.”
    Abigail collapsed against him, crying out, and Larry came to her side as John pulled away.
    Pull the bandage off quickly, the pain will be less.
    “I’m sorry.” He bent over and kissed her on the cheek. “I love you.”
    He turned away, unable to look at her any longer, for fear his heart would shatter. She reached out to him, but Larry held her back, hugging and hushing her, saying, “It’ll be okay” over and over.
    John got into the back of the agency van and looked at the ground as the agent slid the van door shut. Abigail screamed, and John fought the urge to look back as the van rolled forward.
    He closed his eyes, tears flowing freely, trying to cleanse her pained expression from his mind. There were many things in his life he’d forgotten. Many more he was yet to forget. The image of Abigail’s face as he delivered the news would haunt him forever.

    * * * *

EPILOGUE

    Frank Sanderson awoke to the sound of pounding at his door. He fumbled in the darkness, hands hunting for the alarm clock on his nightstand. Bright red numbers: 3:49 a.m.
    “Who the fuck?” he murmured, his mind running through a list of people who might want to pay him a visit in the ass crack of night. Probably one of Tony’s men looking to shake him down, he figured.
    Frank grabbed the pistol from the nightstand and approached his front door, gun at his side.
    “Yeah?” Frank called out, flicking on the light switch, but the porch remained dark.
    Damned light, always out when you need it.
    “Mister, I need help,” a young girl’s voice, “my mommy crashed her car and she’s not answering me… I think she’s … dead.”
    “Holy shit,” Frank said, throwing open the door. “Where is she?” he asked, glancing past the girl and into the street, black and silent. He looked back down at the girl who was wearing a black hoodie with her face in shadows.
    “Where, I don’t see…” his mouth dropped open as the girl pulled back the hood.
    “Hello, Uncle Frank,” she said with a huge smile, holding up the light bulb she’d unscrewed from his porch light.
    Frank stumbled back, “What? … Abigail?!”
    “Did ya’ miss me?” she asked, slamming the door shut behind her, throwing the light bulb at his feet where it exploded.
    Her wild eyes wore the promise of death. Frank