The Butterfly Effect (Boggy Creek Valley 1)

“Bravo One, this is Bravo Two. Our sniper is down.”

“Nice shooting, Bravo Two. Now move your ass to the extraction point. You’ve got one zero mike to get there.”

“Roger that,” I replied as I slung the rifle over my shoulder and turned to face Claire.

She had a gun positioned at her head.

I went to move, but she mouthed the word “No.” The kid holding her couldn’t have been more than sixteen.

A voice shouted from his left, causing him to turn. I took the opportunity to pull my pistol and shoot him, then turned and shot the other insurgent heading up the mountain.

When I looked back at Claire, she was pale.

“Claire?” I asked as she stumbled forward. Her hand hit my chest and the smell of blood made me look down.

I pulled her back and saw the wound on her side.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

I picked her up in my arms and started to run west toward the evacuation sight.

“Bravo…One…Bravo Two. Strap. Down.”

It was all I could get out as I ran as fast as I could. She was supposed to be safe with me. I was supposed to keep her safe. She was only there to ID the boy who had been kidnapped.

Fuck.

“It’s okay, Claire. I’ve got you. We’re going to get you fixed right up.”

Her eyes were closed, but a faint smile appeared on her face.

When I finally got to the chopper, I carefully placed Claire down and the medics got to work. I jumped in and felt her grab my hand.

“Did we get the boy?” she asked.

I glanced over my shoulder at Jackson, another SEAL on my team. He nodded and looked to his left. The ten-year-old boy sat tucked in between Jackson and Brooks with his head down on his knees.

Smiling, I glanced down at Claire. “He’s okay.”

“Thank God.” Then she opened her eyes and squeezed my hand. “Don’t leave.”

With a grin, I replied, “I was always suspicious of your feelings toward me, Agent Murphy.”

Rolling her eyes, she mumbled, “I hate SEALs.”

“That’s what they all say.” I glanced up to the medic. He gave me a slow shake of his head, and I closed my eyes tightly. When I opened them again, Claire was gazing up at me, a look of utter peace on her face. She tried to speak, but I told her not to. She did anyway, and I leaned my head down to hear her over the noise of the helicopter.

“Whoever she is, I hope she knows how much you love her.”

I jerked back and looked at her. “There’s no one.”

She attempted to laugh but coughed up blood instead.

“Fuck. Don’t die, Claire. I was supposed to keep you safe. Don’t die on me!” I screamed.

Claire used whatever strength she had left and turned her head to watch the sky as we flew. The peaceful blue canvas gave no indication of all the evil we had just witnessed. As if she had seen something utterly breathtaking, she smiled and then took her last breath.

Suddenly, I was in a dark hallway. A light came from under a door. Walking toward it, I reached out and opened it before stepping inside the room.

Claire’s deformed body stood in front of me as she held the hand of a little boy.

“You were supposed to keep me safe, O’Hara. Not get me killed. You failed your mission, soldier. Failed. YOU FAILED!” she screamed as I turned, only to find I was trapped in a large bunker.

I spun around and searched for an exit. I heard a noise and turned to see Claire holding up a rope and moving toward me as she repeated the same two words over and over. “YOU FAILED!”

Bolting up in bed, I dragged in one breath after another as I took in my surroundings.

I was in the hunter’s cabin on my grandfather’s property. I was alone and drenched in sweat.

“Motherfucker,” I whispered as I swung my legs over the side of the bed and then scrubbed my hands down my face. I had told Willa I was going to Boston, but in truth, I simply wanted to get away. To think. Reflect on what in the hell was going on with me.

When I showed up at the barn the other day to see Willa, I was hoping we could move past what happened when she woke me from the dream. God, I wanted desperately to move past it. The dreams were getting worse though, and when I threw her down to the ground after the backfire, that was the last straw.

“Fuck,” I whispered. What if Ben had been in her arms?

Pushing that memory away, the dream I had just woken up from replaced it.

I glanced over at my phone on the side table and reached for it. Pulling up my address book, I found her name.

Claire Murphy.

I wondered if her cell had been disconnected yet. Had her parents taken that next critical step in moving on?