Page 30 of One Merciful Moment

He shut off the mower so fast the engine coughed. His pulse hammered as he scanned the sky again. The flicker came back. A brief flash of brightness, then a dulling.

Panic clawed up his spine.

Ashley.

He took off running, boots pounding against the broken asphalt, flying over the curb and tearing down the path toward the garden. His chest burned. If the veil was opening, Ashley needed to be with him. He needed to get to her.

"Boone!" Finn intercepted him halfway down the path, grabbing his arm hard enough to yank him off balance.

"No." Boone jerked free.

Finn stepped in front of him. "We need you."

"I need to get to Ashley."

"She's fine," Finn said. "She's in the garden. But we've got bigger problems."

Boone's pulse spiked. "What?"

Finn pointed toward the rows of seedlings. The ones Ashley had spent weeks nurturing.

The sky flashed.

"God damnit." Finn stared upward. "If the veil's shifting, we could get a cold snap with wind and rain. We can't lose the seedlings. We're relying on them for our next crop."

Boone gritted his teeth, knowing exactly how important the garden was. "What do we do?"

"We need plastic. Copper's got sheets behind the store. We'll cover everything. If the weather flips, even for a minute, without protection against the rain, it'll kill the sprouts." Finn met Boone's gaze. "We can't let that happen."

Ashley needed him. Everstill needed him. And the veil was playing with the sky like none of their lives mattered.

He nodded. "Let's do it."

Finn exhaled in relief and took off toward town. Boone followed, muscles tight, breath uneven, mind racing. He grabbed the rolls of plastic Finn shoved at him behind the restaurant and sprinted back to the garden.

Ashley rushed toward him, worry all over her face. He dropped the rolls and caught her before she slammed into him.

"The plants," she panted.

"We're covering everything." He found the edge of the plastic.

Ashley grabbed the roll and walked backward, unspooling the material. "I'll help."

He stayed close as they worked, hands brushing, shoulders bumping, both racing the sky. Every flicker made Boone's pulse jump. He had no idea if the veil was opening. He didn't know if this was a warning.

With Finn and Levi's help, Boone barely noticed the sweat running down his back or the dirt caking his hands. All he saw were seedlings. Rows of fragile green that meant survival.

Finn tugged the last sheet tight while Levi anchored the corners with stones.

Sticks held the center up so the young sprouts wouldn't get mangled. Ashley walked the row, peering over, obviously worried.

"That's all of it." Boone looked up.

The sky had stopped flickering.

Ashley sighed. "What is going on? Why did it stop?"

Finn let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Because it's fucking with us."