by Chris Bostic
I stared at my father’s face long enough to see his eyes were closed. One cheek was completed covered in dirt or soot. The other side looked deathly gray.
“Now, Zach,” Mom chided as she continued rummaging through the pack.
“Yeah,” I mumbled and went to work.
Dad’s jacket had been pulled wide open. His button-up shirt had been slit from top to bottom with a knife. The tan fabric had been soaked black with blood that continued to pour from his right side.
In a shell-shocked daze, I mumbled, “Oh my God.”
“The rag, Zach!” Mom said anxiously. “Keep pressure on the rag.”
“The stocking cap?” I asked, having seen nothing that resembled a scrap of fabric.
“Yeah, it’s all I had.” She wheeled around. “Here, use this.”
She handed me a pair of cotton work gloves, followed by a gauze pad and tape.
“What the heck?” I said as I pressed what had become a sponge of a hat against my dad’s abdomen.
“The rag’s soaked. Put that gauze pad on there, then the gloves over that while I wrap him tight.”
I nodded numbly. In a smooth movement, I tossed the dripping cap aside and shoved the gauze pad against the wound. Even in the low light, during the quick transfer, I could plainly see a jagged slit from the lower part of the ribs all the way to the top of his hip bone.
The pad soaked through almost immediately. I pinched the skin together, and mashed the gloves on top to try to put some pressure on the gash.
“Roll him,” my mom commanded, somehow calm when panic was bubbling around us like spilled blood.
I swallowed down the bile building in the back of my throat and tried my hardest not to vomit. I didn’t think I had a weak stomach, but watching my dad lose what seemed like gallons of blood was enough for me to feel light-headed. I could only imagine how he felt—if he was even feeling.
“Dammit. It’s not working.” Mom abruptly jumped up, making me flinch, and yelled, “Anyone! We need help!”
Someone answered, but far off. Mom continued yelling as she rummaged back through the backpack a second time. “Someone’s got clotting agent,” she muttered, and whirled around again.
She looked like a crazed gopher as she flung the leaves aside and jammed her hands into the rocky soil under our knees.
“We need to pack it in mud,” she said frantically. “We’ve gotta try something.” She jumped up to yell again. “Over here, dammit! Someone! Anyone!”
By that point, I was paralyzed with fear. I kept my hands pressed on the gloves, which had already soaked through underneath the tape. Rather than stare at the blood seeping into the ground, like the tears dripping from my face, I watched my father’s mouth.
Dad’s lips were parted slightly, but not moving. Looking to his chest, I noticed that it didn’t seem to rise or fall. Perhaps a little, but no big breaths seemed to be going in and out the way they should.
“Ma,” I said tentatively. Tears streamed from my eyes, and I wiped them on the back of my jacket sleeve. “He’s not breathing.”
“Are you sure?” She dropped a handful of dirt next to her husband’s side and scooted in next to me.
“I don’t know.”
“It’s okay, hon,” she said, though clearly it wasn’t. She turned her head to the side and put her ear right over her husband’s mouth.
Bushes rustled all around them. A pair of shadows appeared, rising up out of the darkness. “We’re here,” Austin said.
“Now they show up.” Mom cursed, and yelled, “Quiet! I can’t hear.”
She held up a hand, freezing the new arrivals in place, and leaned back over to listen.
“We need chest compressions. Now!” she told me. “Go!”
“I-I…” I stammered, and froze up like a block of ice.
Mom moved in to take over.
“No. I got this,” I said. I locked my hands together over Dad’s chest and shoved over and over. “Check his pulse.”
Mom put her fingers along the side her husband’s throat. As I pushed away like a mindless machine on Dad’s chest, I noticed her slide over to grab his forearm. Two fingers pressed into the fleshy part of his wrist below the hand.
She shook her head, but I wasn’t about to quit. Sweat poured off my temples as I kept going with chest compressions, over and over again. I couldn’t lose him. Not my dad.
Mom grabbed my arm. I kept going, pushing many more times until I thought his chest would cave in. Eventually, I was too weak to continue. The fact that I couldn’t go on was almost more painful than anything else.
“He’s gone,” Mom said, sitting back. A solitary tear shone in the moonlight as it slid down her cheek. “He lost too much blood.”
“Bro, it’s over,” Austin said from right behind me.
I whirled around ready to bite his head off, but the anger sat like an obstruction in my throat. “It…It…It can’t be…”
“Damn, this sucks.” Austin choked back a tear. It was the first time I’d ever seen that happen. “It’s not supposed to…” He cursed loudly and creatively, surprising even our mother with some of his unique combinations.
I felt a tiny bit better watching him vent, though I lost it again when my eyes drifted to our mother. She had her back against a tree, face buried in her hands. The way her shoulders shook, I knew she was sobbing without having to actually hear her, and that tore me apart.
Austin paced back toward me and spread his arms wide. I fell into them, and was surprised to find his jacket dripping wet. I pulled back and quickly verified it wasn’t more blood.
“Thanks, Austin,” I whispered.
“It’s me and you, little bro,” he replied softly. He gestured to the side with his head. “Mom needs us.”
I wasn’t ready to hear that, nor was I prepared to see my older brother acting both responsibly and compassionate. I could only nod and say, “True that.”
A couple deep breaths steadied me, at least as much as possible given the gravity of the situation. I slowly stepped away from Austin and locked eyes with Spotted Owl. He’d come back with Austin, though there hadn’t been anything he could’ve done to save my dad. And he apparently hadn’t wanted to interrupt my family’s grieving either.
I pinched my lips together and nodded at Spotted Owl. The big man lowered his head respectfully.
“Where do we go from here?” I whispered to myself. “How do we go on?”
My mom was a broken shell, still hugging her knees to her chest and sobbing. Austin was no leader, and Maddie would be absolutely devastated whenever she heard the news. That alone made me want to continue on with the mission to delay the inevitable. Still, I didn’t see how I could muster the strength to go on, emotionally or physically.
Then again, if it turned out to be a suicide mission, no one would have to break the news to Maddie. Rather selfishly, I knew it wouldn’t have to be me in that situation. The thought initially relieved me only to make me feel ten times worse seconds later.
I looked to the sky. Rage built up within me. I couldn’t fathom how my own government turned the death machines on us. How they’d taken my father. And for what? For hiding out in the park? For hiking off to do whatever we were about to do?
Granted, that might have been illegal, but the government had fired the first shot. The first thousands of shots, all across the country. Through their shooting down of rioters to bombing crowds, I had never directly fought back. And what had that gotten me? Fatherless.
I kicked a fallen branch on the forest floor. It clattered against a tree and broke in half, just like my heart. I stooped to pick it up. I ran my hands over the decayed, scorched wood. With a quick twist of the wrist, I snapped it again. And again. I broke it into tiny little pieces, one satisfying crack at a time.
Tossing the scraps aside, I stared back at the star-filled sky once more. The lingering sulfur smell burned with every heavy inhale.
I assumed our attackers were long gone, though I knew bett
er than to think we could afford to let our guard down any longer. And we still had people to round up. The wallowing in self-pity would have to wait until later.
I started back to the others to retrieve my rifle and arrange a search party when I heard Katelyn calling.
“Zach!” she shouted from close by. “Where are you?”
“Here.” My eyes scanned the woods, but I could see little farther than the nearest trees. “This way,” I repeated over and over until her shadow grew into the soft features of my one true love.
I ran to her, and wrapped her in a hug. I pulled back and looked her over from head to toe. “You’re okay.”
“I’m fine, silly.” She hugged me again. “And you too…” Her voice trailed away.
“Thank God.” Tears built in the corners of my eyes, but I fought them away. My nose ran, and I sniffled that up too, not wanting to appear weak.
“Jeez, you missed me, huh? I like knowing that,” she said playfully, before growing more somber. “I was a little worried I wouldn’t find you back, but at least we knew where to meet up.”
I hugged her so tightly she could barely breathe. “I don’t know what I’d have done if I’d lost you too.”
“Too?” She pulled her head back to meet my eyes. “Oh, God. What happened, Zach?”
“My pops.” I choked on the last word and hung my head.
“What? We’ll find him.”
“He’s not lost. He’s…” I couldn’t say it.
She didn’t make me. “Holy crap.” She laid her head back on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry, babe.”
“It’s okay,” I said weakly, when everyone knew that was only what people said.
“Not really. Take me there.”
I let her go, and slumped down on a fallen log. I kept my head buried in my hands. Katelyn sat next to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders.
“I’m not sure I want to go back,” I said. When I realized I looked too much like my mother, I sat up a little straighter to look at Katelyn. “I just…I dunno. I’m numb.”
“You should be.” She stood and offered me a hand. “Come on. They need you.”
“Whether I’m ready or not.”
She nodded. “Pretty much. We can’t stay here.”
“I know. Believe me, I know. But what about Dad?”
That was a question Katelyn couldn’t answer. We saved it for later, after we’d gone back up the hill to where my mother stood talking in low tones to Spotted Owl. Katelyn’s parents had joined them, and they rushed over to hug their daughter while I looked on.
I would never have another pat on the back from my dad. Never get a hug, or have to listen to another diatribe about financial markets or the government crackdown. All had been lost before we’d accomplished a single useful thing in that rotten park.
“I’m so sorry, Zach,” Katelyn’s mom said, and pulled me into the hug.
“Thank you,” I mumbled. I shook hands with Katelyn’s apologetic looking dad, and then slowly walked over to my brother. The grieving had to stop. It was time for action.
“Who’s missing?” I asked. Looking over the group, I finally noticed John standing back in the shadows keeping to himself.
“Noel,” Austin replied, holding out my rifle for me. “I think that’s it.”
“That’s convenient.” I slung it over my shoulder, and gripped the butt of the weapon tightly. The anger coursed through me all the way to my fingertips wrapped around the cold, wooden stock.
Austin didn’t reply. Instead, he shivered as a gentle breeze stirred through the trees.
“Why are you wet anyway?” I asked. “You’re soaked.”
“Couldn’t find anywhere to hide. I ran up on a little creek, and figured I could use the water to mask my heat.” He gritted teeth as if reliving the moment. “Wish I could get some back. It was frickin’ cold enough.”
“No doubt. Clever though.”
“What did you do?”
“Played dead.” It pained me to say those words. I shook it off and threw my arms out to the side to play act. “I was like that crime scene tape with arms and legs all flailed out.”
Austin laughed under his breath. “Not a bad idea.”
We stood there together uncomfortably. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that my dad’s face and upper torso had been covered over with his jacket. After seeing that, I couldn’t look in that direction any longer.
Turning back to Austin, I said, “What do we do about Dad? We can’t just leave him.”
“I don’t know. We’d better ask the adults.”
Unfortunately, that started a whole new battle.
CHAPTER 13
“We need to make tracks,” Spotted Owl insisted. “I don’t mean to be insensitive, but we’ve been here too long. Those choppers could come back any time.”
I knew he was right, but couldn’t bear to think about leaving my father behind. That motivated me to point at Austin and say, “We can carry him.”
“No, boys.” Mom gave us a pained smile. “I wish we could, but that’s the emotion talking. Your father would want you to do the smart thing.”
“And leave him here? Hell no,” Austin objected. “The animals will tear him apart.”
Though it was true, I wished Austin hadn’t said that. Our mother’s face blanched, but she quickly composed herself.
“We don’t have shovels,” Katelyn’s dad said, unhelpfully. “We could come back…”
“He won’t be here when we get back,” Austin said, again making me cringe at the thought.
Spotted Owl tried to diffuse the situation, saying, “Now Austin-”
“He’s right,” Mom said, apparently coming around to our side. “That’s my husband he’s talking about, so y’all best shut up and let me decide.”
Katelyn’s mother nodded approvingly and went to stand by her friend.
“Thank you,” Mom whispered to her, and looked at Austin and me. “He can’t come with us, and we can’t leave him.”
“I know,” Austin said. He suddenly perked up. “There’s a stream close. Lots of rocks. We could at least bury him.”
“I don’t know how prudent-”
Mom cut off Spotted Owl with a sharp look. “I’ll decide if it’s a waste of time or not.” She continued glaring at him. “That’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it?”
He nodded, and took a step back.
“That settles it. I’ve decided.” She pointed toward her husband without looking at him. “Grab him and lead on, Austin.”
I went with my brother to help, thought I wasn’t sure I could do much. I could barely handle getting close to my father’s lifeless form. I kneeled beside him, almost wondering if he wouldn’t sit up, as if the jacket draped over his face was shielding him like his daily newspaper. Back home, he’d lower that paper every day after school, give me a quick greeting, and turn right back to the financial pages. The visual was too much to bear.
“Let me help, bud,” John said, having slinked up next to me. It was the first words he’d spoken, but all I needed to hear from him. I blinked away the tears as John patted me on the back.
“We’ve got him,” Katelyn’s dad said as he crouched on the other side of me. Spotted Owl was right next to him ready to help out.
I wasn’t happy about that, but relented. At least Spotted Owl was willing to put his concerns aside.
Though fighting off despair was my overriding concern, I found myself checking the sky often. The night had grown deathly quiet to the point that I thought I could’ve been able to hear more helicopters coming from miles away. Still, I remained too rattled to want to dawdle, and appreciated the extra help.
I let the two older men and John take my dad’s upper body while Austin and I each took a leg. At least that way I didn’t have to feel the cold blood that had soaked through my father’s clothes. It dripped onto dead leaves with little smacks as we raised him to walk.
“It’s up ahead,” Austin said. “Not far at all.
” As we got underway, he provided directions like the professional backseat driver he had always been. “Little more to the left. About another twenty yards.”
My dad was a big man. Standing over six feet tall, he easily topped two hundred pounds. As a result, we five pallbearers struggled, though no one dared make a sound. The noise of shuffling feet and labored breathing was eventually drowned out by the sound of gurgling water. I flinched thinking about the sick, mushy sounds that had come from my father’s damaged abdomen and was never more relieved to smell the fresh stream water. Soon after, I saw the ripples flashing in the moonlight.
“Are we seriously doing this?” I whispered to Austin as we placed our father beside the creek.
“I…I think he’d…he’d like it here.”
I stood back for a second, and stretched out my back as I looked up the hillside at the water pouring over the rocks. Waterworks of my own threatened to burst loose, and I choked out, “Me, too.”
“I know he would,” John agreed.
“Let’s do this,” Austin said. He shooed the other men away and reached out for Mom’s arm.
“I wish Maddie was here,” she whispered.
“Could you imagine?” Austin said, causing our mom to lift her head sharply.
“Austin.”
“It’s true, Ma,” I agreed with my brother’s sentiments. I didn’t want her to have to see our dad that way. “Better to bring her back when this is done.”
“Then we’ll do it,” she said. “She deserves to know where he’s buried.”
She stood back for a second, sucked in a deep breath, and came forward to kneel beside her husband. I backed away. She stayed with him for a minute or more, then slowly rose and walked over to us. Tears streamed down her face, turning me to mush.
“Let the others do this,” she said. “But say your goodbyes.”
I nodded slowly. Austin waved for me to go first. I followed orders and crouched next to my dad. I couldn’t stand to see the jacket over his face, much less speak to it. Instead, I closed my eyes and finally offered a short, internalized prayer, though the words were hard to find. Praying didn’t come easy for me, and my head was a jumble of thoughts.
