Infinitely

by Cheryl McIntyre

  “Virginia?” I say. It comes out as a question because I’m just not sure. I remember seeing a Welcome to Virginia sign a while back, but then I kind of zoned out and just…drove. I can’t even recall how long ago that was. I have no idea where we are at this point.

  “Okay,” he sighs. “That’s good. We need to go to North Carolina, I think.”

  “Yeah,” Benji croaks. “Take I-64 South.” He noticeably shivers, goose bumps rising along his arms. “And hurry. Please.”

  Jaxon nods, his brows furrowed in worry. It’s the only indication that he seems to legitimately understand how dire this situation is. He presses on the gas, kicking up gravel as he swings us back onto the highway.

  I cling to Flynn, trying to use my body heat to regulate his, and have no idea if it’ll work. He moans softly. I ease up until his face slackens in sleep. Never in a hundred years could I have imagined anything like this happening. On a scale of one to fucked up, this week blows right off the chart.

  “When we get there,” Benji says, his scratchy voice breaking the silence, “we’re going to need a few things.” His hand rips through his hair in a jerky, uncoordinated motion. “Kent will be able to provide some of it, like the Penicillin for Flynn, but I’ll need someone to pick up the rest.”

  “All right,” Jax says immediately. “We’ll figure it out when we get there.”

  Benji shakes his head. I watch as he scrubs his palms across his face roughly. I have a million questions sitting on the tip of my tongue. Like who the hell this Kent person is? And how, if he isn’t a doctor, will he have Penicillin? But I keep my mouth shut and my ears open.

  “We need to worry about it now,” Benji hisses. The irritation is heavy in his voice as he continues. “I have no idea if I’ll even be able to walk by the time we get there, let alone think. We need to sort this shit out now.”

  Jax lifts his hand in a placating gesture. “Okay, man. Calm down. What do you need?”

  Benji leans forward with a heavy sigh, rifling through the glove compartment. He slams it shut and brings his hand down, punching the dashboard. “Don’t your parents keep a fucking pen in here?”

  I assume he’s talking to me even though he’s glaring out the window. His chest rises and falls quickly with each of his labored breaths. His fingers curl and uncurl in and out of tight fists. It’s been so long—he’s a different person—so I have no idea if this is normal or if this is from the detoxing. Either way, he’s scaring me.

  “In the visor,” I murmur as lightly as possible, afraid my voice alone will propel him into a fit of rage.

  Benji flips the visor down and removes the pen and paper. He drops his head to the back of the seat and sighs heavily. “Shit. I’m sorry.” He scrapes his fingers through his hair once again and I notice it’s slick with sweat. I’m not sure who he’s talking to again, but then he shifts in the seat so he’s facing me. “It’s not you. Part of opiate withdrawal is anxiety and agitation.” His eyes linger on my face as if he’s making sure I understand. I nod.

  He turns back to Jaxon and his face contorts for a moment. “So is insomnia, muscle and stomach cramping, and vomiting. We’re going to be in pain, unable to sleep, and in danger of dehydration.” He starts scrawling something furiously on the paper and the car falls silent once again.

  Kameron looks over at me and we share a look, but both of us know better than to make a comment.

  “How long is this going to last?” Jax asks, his tone brittle, causing my chest to ache.

  “A couple of days? A week?” Benji shakes his head stiffly. “I don’t know, it’s different for each person.” He glances down at Megan. “It’s going to be worse on her. A lot worse. She’s been dependent a lot longer than I have.” He flips the pen through his fingers, staring blankly out the window before he adds, “It’s going to be hell.”

  That statement sits heavy in my thoughts. Maybe Hell is a moment, or a series of moments. Maybe it’s a feeling. A disease. A memory. Maybe it’s time, or loss of time. Maybe it’s not really a place at all.

  And maybe we’re living it right now.

  ~*~

  My head knocks into Flynn’s as the car comes to a stop. I massage my forehead, blinking the sleep from my eyes. “Is this it?” I ask, peering up at the small house sitting on stilts in front of us. I can hear the slapping of waves somewhere in the distance. Inhaling deeply, I pick up the scent of salty air and know instinctively it’s the ocean.

  “Yeah,” Jax says distractedly. “I’m going to get Benji up there first—make sure everything’s cool.”

  “What do you mean ‘make sure everything’s cool’?” Kam asks carefully. “Didn’t you talk to this guy before we drove all the way out here?”

  “He doesn’t have a phone,” Jax replies. “He’s kind of paranoid…”

  Kameron arches a brow incredulously. “And we’re showing up unexpected? That’s just great.”

  “We didn’t have much of a choice,” Benji croaks. He pushes his door open, his movements stiff. “Besides, he owes me. He won’t turn us away.” He glances back at Jax. “Unload the car and then ditch it. We’ll figure out other transportation later.” With that, he swings the door closed and makes his way up the stairs.

  “Ditch the car?” I repeat. “This is my dad’s car. He loves this thing.”

  “Exactly why we can’t keep it.”

  Jax yanks the keys from the ignition and jogs back to the trunk. It pops open, cutting off my view, and I look over at Kam. She offers me a small smile before ducking out of the car to help.

  I want to cry all over again. I know it’s just a car and I understand his point, but this vehicle represents my parents. There are memories here, made on these seats while looking out of these windows. It’s stupid, I know, but it hurts to even think about parting with it.

  “There are worse things to lose,” Flynn murmurs, his voice hoarse and edged deeply with pain—both physical and emotional. It’s like a slap to the face, forcing me back to reality.

  “I know,” I whisper. Before either of us have a chance to say more, a man with shaggy blonde hair comes barreling down the steps. He stops beside the car, his cool blue eyes sliding over each of us still in the car before fixing his gaze on Jax.

  “Two days,” he states adamantly. “Two days and then you guys are gone. And I never see you or your brother again.”

  Jax slams the trunk closed and swipes his hands across his jeans. “Nice to see you too, Kent.”

  “Fuck that. And fuck you. How you gonna bring this shit to my front door?”

  Kameron slinks back, attempting to hide herself behind Jax. He shoulders a bag and takes a step toward Kent. “You owe us. We wouldn’t be in this shit if it weren’t for you.”

  “Don’t put this mess on me, man. I’m out. I’ve been out. I’m clean now.”

  “You know what they say,” Jax deadpans, “the past will always come back to bite you in the ass. Or need a place to crash.”

  “Two days. I’m serious. That’s all I can do.” Kent’s eyes dart from Jax to the car and back again. “How many of you are there? I don’t have a lot of space.”

  “Six. And we’re staying together.” Jax pushes past him and Kam scurries behind, trying to keep close.

  Kent digs his fingers into his hair, pulling it. His face turns red as he mutters a string of curse words, kicking the grass at his feet.

  Jax pauses at the window. He ducks inside and nudges Megan awake then turns to Flynn and me, still in the back. “Grab what you can and come on.”

  Kent’s house is sparse and surprisingly clean. I help get Flynn situated on the couch and stop in front of the window. From up here I can almost make out the waves rolling in and lapping at the shoreline. I bet in the daylight it’s a beautiful sight.

  Benji comes around the corner and hands Jaxon the list he made in the car earlier. “Take someone with you and get as much as you can.” He pulls some cash out of his wallet, shoves it into Jax’s hand, and turns to Kent. �
�Where do we sleep?”

  Kent scoffs, throwing out one slender arm. “Figure it out. I’ll be in my room. If you have a problem with that you can always get the hell out.” He stalks through the room, but Benji places a quick hand on his chest, halting Kent’s retreat.

  “I need an antibiotic—Penicillin for my friend. And a piece.”

  “They’re locked up,” Kent tells him. The gulping of his throat is audible, even from across the room.

  “I need one. Now.”

  Kent nods, producing a set of keys from his pocket. I watch silently as he retrieves a metal lockbox from the closet and sets it on the coffee table.

  “A piece of what?” Kam asks, her eyes wide as Kent places a key into the lock and turns it with a click.

  “This,” he states, holding up his arm for us to see the large black pistol in his hand.

  A silence falls through the room. My eyes flick to Flynn as thoughts of the last time I saw a gun flash through my mind’s eye. He drops his head into his hands and I can only assume he’s thinking of it too. Hell, I’m pretty damn sure we all are.

  I don’t want to be anywhere near another gun as long as I live.

  And this brings up a really good question: What in the hell is Benji planning to do with this gun?

  Kent glances at each of us in turn before stepping in front of Benji and relinquishing the gun. “Penicillin’s in the fridge. Keep the gun unloaded while it’s in my house. I’m going to bed. There’s only one spare room. You guys can decide the sleeping arrangements.” He turns to walk away, and then pauses, swiveling back to glare at all of us.

  “Don’t nobody be touchin’ my shit, either.”

  Jaxon raises an eyebrow, his arms crossed over his chest. Benji jerks his head once in affirmation.

  Kent gives us all one more scathing look before he stomps down the hallway. A moment later, a door slams and I jump, startled by the unexpected sound.

  “Well he’s just precious,” Kameron says flatly.

  24

  Benji

  I tug the handle on the fridge and peer inside, sifting through the bottles. A gallon of milk and a package of bologna sit amongst all the medications. It’s the only food in here, and somehow it just looks odd next to the many bottles.

  I find what I’m looking for and kick the door closed as I gaze around the small kitchen. My stomach is churning, bubbling with the need to purge, but I swallow the rising bile down and do my best to ignore it.

  If I were a syringe¸ where would I be?

  Pivoting on my heel, I open the cupboards closest to the refrigerator. No luck. The only thing inside is an awkwardly large collection of movie glasses like the kind you can buy for a couple extra bucks with a fast-food value meal.

  I close the doors and move on, opening and closing every cabinet in the kitchen before pulling a silverware drawer open.

  “What are you doing?” Briar asks from across the counter. Her eyes follow my movements as I reach into the drawer and pull out a sealed syringe. Because, of course, that’s where Kent would keep them.

  She doesn’t insult me by trying to hide the reluctance on her face. It’s obvious she doesn’t really trust me. I can’t blame her, but it still stings a little.

  “For Flynn.”

  She takes a step closer, resting her palms on the counter separating us. “Is that…clean? I mean, where did he get this stuff from? How do you know that’s really Penicillin in that bottle? Can we trust this guy?” She opens her mouth as if to launch another onslaught of questions, but thinks better of it, and instead shakes her head. She pulls her bottom lip into her mouth, biting down nervously.

  I blink, trying to shove the memories away, but they slam into me mercilessly.

  I had just passed my driving test. I couldn’t let go of the new license in my hand. Every few minutes, I’d look down at it and smile. It represented freedom. Adulthood. A new chapter in my life.

  All I could think about was borrowing Grandpa’s old grocery-getter and taking Briar for a long drive. Hell, I was even willing to let Jaxon tag along.

  But as soon as I knocked on her door, Briar was pulling me toward the barn, intent on riding.

  “I passed,” I said, planting my feet and slowing her momentum.

  “Awesome,” she replied, her lips curving up into the smile that always had a direct effect on all parts of me, inside and out.

  “Let’s go for a drive.”

  She finally turned so she could face me full on. The smile faded from her face. “We can ride King wherever you want to go.”

  What kind of fourteen-year-old wasn’t jumping at a chance to hop into a car with their best friend without parental supervision? Most girls would be all over this. But Briar sure as shit wasn’t like most girls.

  “I don’t want to ride, Bri. I want to drive. With you.”

  “Oh,” she blew out on a breath. “Okay.” She released my hand, but followed me over to the car. At the last second, I decided I should try to be a gentleman and reached for the handle at the same time she did. Our hands met and I curled my fingers around hers. Her eyes flicked up to meet mine and she bit down on her lip.

  I’d already known how great it was to kiss her, but I wanted to know what it would be like if I were to draw her lip into my mouth and nibble it in the same way. We’d never done that. Nothing more than the quick, chaste pecks.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” she whispered, her voice gravelly with nerves. Somehow, knowing I made her nervous in this moment made my pulse throb throughout my body. I wondered if she could possibly know what I was really thinking. If she wanted me to do exactly what I was dying to do.

  “You shouldn’t bite your lip,” I rasped. I was sixteen and hormonal as all hell. Having your walking, talking fantasy live right next door with direct access to her bedroom window could nearly kill a guy my age.

  “Why not?” she murmured. My fingers tightened around hers. I wanted to tell her all the reasons. Fuck that—I wanted to show her. For hours upon hours. But when you’re sixteen and the girl you’re in love with is also your best friend, it’s difficult to be completely honest. Sometimes even with yourself.

  But I went for it anyway.

  “Because when you do that, it makes me want things.”

  “What kind of things?” she asked, her voice dropping several octaves. And then she pressed her teeth into that plump lip again.

  I released her hand and stepped back, closing my eyes, and fighting every instinct that told me to kiss her. “Things that’ll change everything.” And then I walked over to the driver’s side and started the car. We drove around, listening to music, and letting the wind sweep through the car, taking all the previous tension with it. That’s how it was with us. We never talked about the bad or the awkward. We just let it go and moved on. Avoidance worked well for us.

  Later that night, I found a note on the pulley outside my window. She had written three simple words that shifted everything as I read them.

  Change is good.

  It takes me a moment to regain my bearings. What did she ask? I close my eyes and inhale deeply. Flynn. That’s right. She wants to make sure this medicine is safe for Flynn.

  I clear my throat and meet her eyes. “Kent used to sell illegal drugs for Delphi. He was my mom’s supplier. He got out, and now he sells legal drugs illegally.”

  Her brows crinkle as she tries to follow along. “Doesn’t that make them illegal drugs then?”

  “Yes.”

  “So…”

  “This is real Penicillin,” I state. “Used to treat real infections caused by real gunshot wounds. A few doses of this and Flynn will be okay. That’s all that really matters.” I open the syringe and flip the cool bottle in my hand upside down. “The needles are new. Clean. Never been used. And when I’m done with it, I’ll throw it away.” I glance over at her and soften my features the best I can through the nausea trying to overtake me.

  “Please just trust me.”

  Sh
e maintains eyes contact as she struggles with the decision. And then she nods and walks away.

  25

  Briar

  After Kent locked himself in his bedroom for the night, Benji played doctor before he and Megan took the spare room. Flynn passed out on the couch after accepting the shot of Penicillin. I didn’t ask any further questions about where it came from. I’m not really sure I want to know. As long as it can help Flynn, I don’t care.

  I flip on my side and look at Kameron’s sleeping form beside me. I can smell the scent of her gum and wonder if she’s sleeping with it in her mouth or if the smell is just part of her now. I don’t pick up her usual apple fragrance and that makes me sad. She looks peaceful and I envy her that. I can’t sleep. The past few days keep replaying in my mind like a scratched record. Flynn hitting the ground as the bullet sliced through his back. The look on Jacoby’s face as Flynn pulled the trigger. His blood, warm and red on my skin.

  There’s something about the dark still night that haunts me. All the fear and sadness I’ve felt sits raw inside my chest and I’m overcome with terror every time I try to close my eyes. Even Jaxon’s soft snores do nothing to comfort me.

  Lying on the living room floor of a stranger’s house isn’t helping either. Every new sound I’m unfamiliar with sends a jolt of panic to my heart. Every shadow chills me to the bone with fear. I’m fighting the urge to scream or cry. I can’t take it anymore.

  I shove the thin blanket off my legs and sit up, gasping. I feel around for Kam’s phone. I press a button, illuminating the screen as I look for the remote. I flip the TV on and tuck the phone back beneath her pillow. The TV’s pale blue light flickers along the walls, casting more shadows that play with my head. I stare at the screen unseeingly for several seconds. Movement catches my attention. My breath hitches in my throat before I register Benji’s presence.