It was over.

All the struggles of the last year, last month, last week. Over. There was nowhere left to hide, no place they could run. Maybe if they had headed for the Rockies, but it was too late. Maybe it was a good thing their luck had run out. Maybe.

Soon it would be done, and they would never have to run again, no more hiding, no more anything. Peace. What a funny little word. I wonder if there is anything after peace. Nice enough place, the hordes will just find us anyway.

"I don't want to see," she said. Really, I thought, the words running through my head, a constant conversation with self. On second thought, maybe she was right. Not really something anyone wants to see.

"I don't want to see," she said. Her head laid on my shoulder, the words muffled by the sweatshirt tied around her face.

Okay, everyone gets to make their own choice. I'm good with it, I can watch for both of us. It won't be much longer, a few minutes at best. Late afternoon, that's as good a time as any, better than morning. Better than every morning where I had an idea. Wish I had never had an idea. Wish I could say I'm sorry for every stupid idea that I dragged you into. Wish I could take the last year back. So much I wish I had said, but not a sound came out, just the voice in my head.

"Enough," she mumbled through the sweatshirt.

"What do you mean, enough?" surprised at the sound of my own voice, scratchy and whiney.

"Enough, we can't just stand here waiting," she let go of me and untied the sweatshirt. I watched her walk onto the porch, inspecting the roof. A few more steps and she found what she was looking for. She grabbed a couple of chairs, positioning them just so.

"Here, this will work. Come and help me. I'm not tall enough," she ordered, standing on one of the chairs.

It was kind of impressive how calm she was; someone needed to be in charge. I followed. She was always smarter than me. Looking up, it was pretty clear what she needed me to do, and I scrambled onto the empty chair.

Handing me the sweatshirt sleeve, she said, "It'll be better this way. That beam will hold us. Be quick. They are almost here."

I glanced at the ridge, the tops of their flags just barely visible. I threaded the shirt over the beam and handed her a sleeve. Our last great idea, and she dared to come up with it. I never had her courage.

"You ready?" I asked. She threaded her fingers through mine. The last thing I saw were the hordes coming through the trees. I can still hear her voice as we stepped off the chairs.

"Happy Valentine's day, love you," she said.

The knots pulled tight - no chance for a reply.