Every Dark Little Thing

by T. S. Ward

  My throat is tight. “This isn’t how I thought this would go.”

  “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to tell you I love you.”

  “Shut up,” I say, but there are tears I’m wiping away after that.

  He laughs, grabs the back of my head, and leans his forehead against mine. I remember all the times he did that when I was little, and how I always thought I was getting in shit and he was a hair away from losing it because he wouldn’t say anything. He’d just hold me there for a moment, and I’d hold my breath, and then he’d walk away.

  “Think you can forgive me?”

  I push him away. “No shit, asshole.”

  He says something then that makes me grow still. “Think Adam and Sadie will forgive me?”

  I squeeze my eyes shut as my hands start to shake, and all I can see is Adam in Mum’s basement. Sadie on the scaffold. I don’t say anything, and I really don’t want to, but he understands.

  He’s quiet. And then he exhales, sharp and quick.

  “You’re lying,” he insists. “No, he… Adam took Sadie to Crystal’s before all this. What…? No, no, Keely, wait a minute. Shit. Grab your bow and come with me. I can’t do this like this.”

  I clear my throat. “I don’t think I can use a bow with…”

  He walks out as I’m talking to him, out the front door and onto the porch. He comes back with a crossbow, picks up my bow and arrows for me, and starts toward the back door.

  “Grab some whiskey, will you?”

  I sit on the couch for another minute, listening to him going in and out of the kitchen. Fuck this, I think, and then I get up. I go down to the bar, grab a few bottles, and follow him outside.

  He’s setting up empty cans across the yard on a kid’s swing set and slide, on the fence, on branches of some bushes. The bows are resting on two chairs, and I drop the bottles into the snow between them, picking up the crossbow and sitting down.

  “This is how you’re handling it?” I ask.

  He starts up a fire in the pit. “How else?”

  I scoot my chair through the snow, closer to the fire, frowning as he runs back into the house. When he comes back, he’s got some blankets. He wraps one around my shoulders, one around his, and sits down.

  “You know how to use that thing?” He says, nodding to the crossbow.

  “You taught me,” I remind him.

  He nods. “Right. Miss, you drink.”

  I bolt the crossbow and do my best to hit a target left-handed. “Just like that, then. I think this is gonna end sooner than you think.”

  “I taught you, huh? You sure about that?” He laughs and passes me a bottle. “Hit, you talk. Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” I say, watching him take a shot.

  A can falls into the snow with the arrow stuck in it and he laughs. “What’s the draw weight on this thing? You wimp. What do you want to know?”

  I think for a minute as I get the crossbow ready. “Who’s Kel?”

  “Kel? You mean you didn’t know about her?”

  I shake my head and take a shot at the cans, a slight smile pulling at my mouth when I hit one. “Walked into his house and found a note on the fridge to Kel. Thought he misspelled my name, until I found him.”

  He grunts some noise and takes a drink anyway. “He didn’t talk to you much after he kicked you out, huh? She was his sponsor. His work forced him into rehab after your little fit in the station. And then the bastard fell in love.”

  I’m quiet for a second, staring at the fire. “So that’s what he meant. Could have thanked me, really, if he found love.”

  “It wasn’t mutual,” he says. “He relapsed after we went to ask about you.”

  I nod slowly. “What do you want to know first?”

  There’s silence for a couple minutes.

  “Tell me about Eli. What he did.”

  I take a drink and start telling him. “Accidentally tipped off the cops to Eli’s little drug operation when I was screaming at Adam. And they spent a while working him, but then he found out, and connected the dots. Maybe Adam said it was my fault, I don’t know. But he and his friends jumped me when I was leaving work—always took that alley to get to the bus stop. This homeless guy found me and got help. If he didn’t, I would have died. I did, for a bit. I was in a coma, and when I woke up, I had metal keeping my spine together. Had to learn how to walk again.”

  “Shit,” he says quietly. “The hospital didn’t call me.”

  “I think Adam was my emergency contact,” I tell him, and then swear. “Guess I know why he never answered when they called.”

  He breathes out and shoots at a can. He misses, drinks, and then gestures to me to go. I take my time getting set up, intend to miss on purpose, and hit a can just below the one I was looking at.

  “Maybe I was wrong,” I mutter. “I’ll be sober for this.”

  He laughs and gets up to retrieve the arrows, sets up the cans we knocked down again, and comes back ready. “Tell me what happened next.”

  What happened next. Soldier happened.

  I take a drink, and then another, and then another.

  “Come on, kid,” he says, pulling the bottle from my hands. “Were you there when they shot everyone up or something?”

  “Left that day, just before. God, it was anarchy. I didn’t even know what was happening. Saw people shooting other people in the street. We had to drive the other way and take the back roads around again, and even that took hours.” I lean my head back against the chair while he knocks a can down. “But I got home. Spent a week there wondering where everyone was. And then Eli showed up. Said he killed you, said Grandpa was dead in the woods, and he was about to kill me for real but… we got away.”

  Lou looks at me. “We?”

  I shake my head, bolting the crossbow. “Your turn to talk. How’d you end up with Macon?”

  “Let’s see you missin’ every shot now, avoiding that one.” He laughs when I do, on purpose. “Alright, alright. Eli had this bright idea to meet up with his buddy at his cabin, but the guy never made it. We spent two weeks there, and one day Eli takes off to get supplies from the house. Except he comes back with a bullet in him—and I recall your friends and you mentioning something about shooting him?”

  “Yeah. That was… us.”

  “Us, we, what is this?” He grumbles when I shake my head. “Anyway. He comes back with a bullet, and I don’t know shit about medical crap, but then this man and his family come marching down the drive. Kitted out, ready for a fight. And this guy was Macon. He fixed Eli up and we were a little intimidated by all the guns and kids holding guns so we offered them shelter. Couple days later, we were surrounded by a mob of the undead. We helped each other get out and we’ve been together ever since. Picked up a few others at a refuge camp a little ways out of town.”

  He shoots and misses. I shoot and hit.

  “Go on, then. Tell me about this we and us business.”

  I take a drink before I do. “Soldier. That’s what I call him, but it’s Ben. Ben Daniels.”

  “That’s it? That’s all you’re gonna say?”

  “What else is there to say?” I pull the blanket tighter around me as I sink further into the chair. “I met a guy and it was great, he was great, and then everything got fucked up. That’s all.”

  He nudges my elbow as he gets ready to take another shot. “But you’re looking for him. You want to find him. How long’s it been, since you saw him?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. A year? Bit more than a year, really.”

  “And you’re still thinking about him,” he laughs, trying to tease me about it, but I just nod.

  I nod, because I am still thinking about him. I’ve been thinking about him the entire time.

  “You’re all about finding this guy. You’re going to put yourself on the line to make sure he lives, even this long after you last saw the bastard. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re madly in love
with the guy.”

  I nod again. “Think so.”

  He squints at me while I stare into the fire. “He good to you?”

  “The best,” I say, but it comes out breathy and hoarse.

  “I’ll kick his ass if he’s not.” He takes his shot and misses, again.

  That makes me laugh. “Good fucking luck trying.”

  He sits forward, turning toward me as he gestures for me to shoot. “What? You think I couldn’t take him? He bigger than me or something? Trained in Tae Kwon Do? I’ll kick his ass, that’s a promise.”

  I hit the target. “Is that what you want to know, or do you want to hear what happened to your kids?”

  He sits back and takes a drink. “Yeah, yeah. Suppose that’s the point of this.”

  I nod, drink, and start talking. “It was Christmas when we got to Crystal’s, and it was only Adam there. He was high, sitting in the basement, and there was a gun on the floor—I thought he was dead as soon as I saw him, but he wasn’t. He was just trashed. I was pissed. So, I started screaming at him, kicking the shit out of him, but… Soldier threw him in the snow and got him talking. He got mad at me for not being Kel, and then admitted to selling Sadie for drugs.”

  “Fucking kid,” Lou growls.

  “He sold her to this guy we’d run into before. They tied us up and tried to hurt me but I killed a few of them and… Ezra. John Ezra. That’s the name we got out of him.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “Soldier said some things to Adam, and I was losing my shit, so I left. I sat in the front yard in the snow, and then Soldier came out. I would have dragged him with us but then there was a gun shot. He shot himself.”

  Lou reaches over and sets a hand on my shoulder. “Shit, Keely. You went back in and saw that?”

  I shake my head. “No. That was Soldier. He made sure, I just… I kept going in the opposite direction. Never looked back. And it was a little while after that when I got separated from Soldier.”

  He takes a long drink and sighs. And shoots. And misses, again.

  I don’t shoot again. I just keep talking. “I ran into Ezra six months after I lost him, and then I found Sadie. I… I did some things. I had to do things just to—I ended up Ezra’s right hand man, so when he caught me trying to get Sadie to leave, he was pissed. She wasn’t trying to leave, either, she was screaming trying to save her own ass, the little rat, but—he handcuffed me to a scaffolding and brought her up above, and he slit her throat so deep it was… but her blood helped me escape. Made the cuffs just… slide off. And I showed up here looking like Carrie.”

  “What a fucking mess,” Lou breathes out.

  I take a drink, drain the bottle, and whip it as far as I can get it with my left arm. It knocks a can down. “I’m sorry, Dad, I—we were so close, and I fucked it all up. I got her killed. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I…”

  I press the quilt to the tears that run cold down my cheeks.

  He scoots his chair closer and wraps an arm around me, leaning his head against my shoulder even though it kind of hurts, under all the whiskey.

  “You did what you could, Keels,” he says in my ear. “You did your best and… you’re here. You’re here, I still have you, that’s… fuck.”

  He lets go after a while and sits back in his chair, sniffling, wiping his face off. “Enough of that. It’s done. It’s done. Tell me something else, kid. Tell me about Soldier.”

  I breathe out the shakiness that’s entered my voice. “He’s army.”

  “Don’t you have some kind of vendetta against the military?”

  “As a whole, sure. I mean, they shot up hospitals and bombed cities on their own turf, but… Soldier and Fox are exceptions.” I shrug, and then I see Macon over his shoulder, standing in the open door to the kitchen. But I elect to ignore him. “He’s more like a big puppy, though, but that doesn’t mean you’d be able to kick his ass.”

  “You always wanted a puppy,” he laughs, shaking his head. He drinks some more, and points at the last can. “Think I can hit one of those?”

  I grab the crossbow again, wedge it between my knees, and notch a bolt. “How about you go for the right, and I’ll go for the left?”

  He hoists the bow, and we both fire a shot off, and then he’s laughing as soon as he realizes there’s only one and I’ve knocked it off its perch. “You get better the more you drink. Not fair.”

  “You get shit. Drink up, asshat.”

  “There’s nothing left.”

  I look at him, look past him again, frowning when Macon’s still standing there. Lou sees me looking and turns to him. He holds up a middle finger to the man, and I hold up both mine, grinning when Macon starts shaking his head.

  “Well. Aren’t you just two peas in a pod?”

  He steps out onto the deck and comes to lean on the railing.

  “Reckon you’ve got about five seconds before Jenny comes storming out here to bitch at you.”

  I kneel on my chair, wrap an arm around Lou’s neck, and whisper to him. “What the fuck is up with that, by the way?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Entire camp seems to think you’re fucking around with her and she’s younger than me,” I tell him, and I feel the laugh burst in his chest. “Tell me that’s some bullshit, Louie.”

  He snorts. “As if anyone thinks that.”

  I look back to Macon as the girl comes storming out, right on cue, and whisper, “Pretty sure she thinks the same thing. Almost bit my head off about having a jacket like yours.”

  “Oh, come on, kid. I’m not in the mood for this kind of shit.” He shrugs me off and looks at his friends. “What do you fuckers want? You gonna stand there and gawk all night or are you gonna say what’s on your mind?”

  Macon shakes his head. “I was just coming to check in. Ghost was stabbed, and I’m hearing there’s someone else here who might try to kill her. Asked that kid why and she told me. I’m thinking this might not be the best place for you.”

  Jenny crosses her arms and glares at me.

  Lou stands up. He steadies himself on the chair while I stare into the fire. “Shut the fuck up. It ain’t her fault—you want to kick anyone out of here, make it Eli!”

  “Calm down, Lou,” Macon drawls, holding his hands up, “You’re too drunk to argue this.”

  “Fuck you. Your goddamn kids fucked up and got Cruz killed and they’re still here!” He starts walking toward him. I keep staring at the fire. “You don’t get to just decide that.”

  “Come on, Lou,” Jenny says, “She’s dangerous.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Jennifer—”

  “Calm down, Lou.”

  “Lou. It’s for the safety of everyone.”

  I stand up and walk to him, put a hand on his arm, and shake my head. I only talk loud enough for him to hear me. “Dad, don’t, this is… this is yours. It’s your life. If I’m gonna fuck it up then I don’t want to be here.”

  He looks at me. “Don’t you dare—I just got you back.”

  “It’s fine—”

  “No, it’s not. You’re not going anywhere, punk.”

  Shortcake steps off the porch. “What is going on with you, Lou? You’re putting all of us at risk for this girl you’ve just met? Are you that drunk?”

  “Get the fuck out of here,” Lou waves her off. “This is my kid.”

  “You don’t have kids,” she answers, exasperation in her voice.

  I’m still holding the crossbow. There aren’t any bolts left, but I hoist it up anyway and aim it at her, laughing when she shrieks and ducks back onto the deck.

  Macon sets his hands on his hips. “Well, shit, if I don’t see that now.”

  “Give me some damn time with her before you start with this bullshit,” Lou says. “Just found out my other kids are dead. This is the least you can do for me, Macon. Let me have this.”

  He stares down at his feet, sighing, and then he nods. “Alright. Tonight. But tomorrow, we sit and we talk about this.”

  We
stand there in the cold as they walk away, Jenny with daggers in her eyes. And maybe it’s just the whiskey playing tricks on me, but Macon looks conflicted. He looks… almost apologetic, and I think that gives me just enough hope to relax, to spend the rest of the night hanging out with my dad without much worry or wariness.

  Day Twenty-Six

  Something wakes me up. A creak, or the groan of a floorboard.

  It takes me a second to blink away the grogginess and the weight of booze and sleep that’s got me plastered to the couch, and then I’m gasping, pushing myself up onto an elbow.

  The silhouette of a man sits on the coffee table. Eli.

  “What the fuck?” I rasp, looking around the room. “Where’s Dad?”

  He tilts his head, gestures with his hand—a hand that has a damn knife in it. “Now don’t you go worrying about him. That’s my brother to take care of, not that you’d know anything about that.”

  I grit my teeth and narrow my eyes. “Fuck you.”

  “What? You’re the one who drove that boy off the deep end with your bullshit.” He points the knife at me as he talks, as I slowly push myself upright. “Now ain’t that some shit? You get him all doped up and suddenly it’s the damn apocalypse and he needs his fix and your little mini rat—you’re the big rat, ain’t you? And then you go and get your little mini rat all caught up in your shit. I ain’t seen my brother cry since we was kids, but you… You’re something else, huh?”

  “You’re full of shit,” I say, hand reaching for the knife I’ve always got at my hip, but—

  He’s holding it. He took it off me.

  “And you’re the one who gave him the drugs in the first place. None of this is on me. It’s on you.”

  A gravelly laugh leaves him. “I don’t go around getting little girls killed like you.”

  “So I’m not a little girl to you anymore?”

  “You’re a damn devil, is what you are.”