Days 9 to 16

by Amy Cross

  I have to be a good brother.

  "Can you hear me?" I ask, climbing up onto the back of the truck. "Joe, can you hear me?"

  He doesn't reply. He looks fevered, and although he lets out a low, guttural groan, it's clearly not a response to anything I've said. He's like a rabid animal. I don't even know if the real Joe is in there anymore. In a way, I want to know that he can hear me, to know that he understands what I'm doing, but at the same time I guess it'd be better if his mind has left his body completely, leaving behind nothing that can really feel pain. This isn't Joe; this is just his body, writhing and gasping before the inevitable end. All I need to do is find a little more inner strength, stop seeing things as if I'm still a child, and do what's necessary. I need to be a man.

  "Okay," I say, taking a deep breath, "I'm gonna do what you asked, but I'm gonna do it in a way that stops your pain as fast as possible." Deciding that there's no point delaying things, I grab the tarpaulin and lay it over Joe's body, leaving just his face clear for a moment. "If you can hear me," I continue, looking down at his bloodied, fevered features, "I hope you know that I'm just doing what you wanted. God gave me this strength, you see, and he made me realize that I've got to do what's right. So I'm..." I pause, as tears start falling down my cheeks. "So I'm gonna make it real quick, and painless, or as painless as possible. You won't feel anything, and then you'll be on the other side. Like, in paradise. You'll be up there in heaven, looking down at me."

  No reply. He just continues to let out a groan.

  "You're gonna see everyone again," I continue. "Everyone from back home. You're the lucky one here. You understand that, right? You're the one who gets to go to a better place and be with everyone. I've got to stay here and deal with..." I pause as I realize that I'm in danger of getting too focused on myself. This is about Joe. "You've been the best brother I could ever have had," I continue, "and I know we disagreed about a lot of stuff, but I know you were there for me when it mattered, just like I'm here for you. I'm sorry I couldn't make things work out better, but at least I can take away your pain." I open my mouth to say something else, but finally I realize that I'm just prolonging his agony. There's nothing else I can say, nothing else I can do, so I simply take the edge of the tarpaulin and move it over his face.

  Stepping back, I grab the rifle and check that it's properly loaded. I can still hear Joe moaning from beneath the tarpaulin, and there's a part of me that wants to just get in the front of the truck and start driving again, hoping against hope that some miracle might deliver us to people who can help. I know that's not the right thing to do, however, and I know that I'd just be condemning Joe to a long, drawn-out and painful death. If I love my brother, I have to kill him. He's clearly in some much pain, it's agonizing to listen to him. Slowly, I raise the rifle and aim it at the part of the tarpaulin that's covering his head.

  Everything around me seems to fall quiet. The forest, the house, Joe's moans, my own heartbeat.

  I take a deep breath.

  I steady my shaking hands.

  Finally, I pull the trigger. The body under the tarpaulin jerks once, but falls completely still before the echo of the gunshot has even stopped ringing through the trees. I'm left staring at the hole in the tarpaulin, and then at the large pool of blood that's starting to soak through. For a moment, it's as if my mind has gone completely blank. I can't even process the reality of what just happened, of the fact that I shot my brother, but eventually I realize that the silence all around me is also the silence of Joe's passing. All his pain is over, and I just hope that in his final moments, he understood that I was doing the right thing. Despite everything else, I know deep down in my heart that it would have been wrong to let him live with such agony. It would have made me feel better, in the short term, not to have had to make this decision, but in the end I chose to sacrifice my peace of mind in order to look after Joe.

  Climbing down from the back of the truck, I prop the rifle against the side of the vehicle before walking a couple of paces toward the house. I know I need to clean up, to dig a grave and bury Joe, but right now I feel as if I'm going to collapse. My knees feel weak, and I can't stop replaying the past few minutes in my mind. Did I make a mistake? Did I do a terrible thing? As I reach the house, I pause for a moment and take a series of deep, calm breaths. It's as if the world is spinning, and I have to force myself to remain calm. I'll get over this. I'll find a way to stop thinking about everything that happened, and somehow I'll carry on. For Joe's sake, and for my parents' sakes, I'll keep fighting.

  "Turn around slowly," says a man's voice from nearby.

  I freeze. I hadn't heard anyone approaching, and my first thought is that maybe it's one of those creatures.

  "Did you hear me?" the man continues. "Turn around very slowly and put your hands where I can see them."

  Barely able to string two thoughts together, I raise my hands and slowly turn to see that there's a middle-aged man standing over by the trees, aiming a rifle straight at me.

  "On your knees," he says.

  I stare at him.

  "On your knees," he says again, more firmly this time.

  Slowly, I get down on my knees, and I watch as he takes a couple of steps closer.

  "Okay," he continues, closing one eye as he steadies his aim at my head. "Now why don't you tell me who you are, and why you just shot a man in cold blood outside my house?"

  Day Ten

  Elizabeth

  Pennsylvania

  I'm slowly jolted awake by the motion of the van as it bumps and bounces along some kind of gravel road. Blinking a couple of times, I realize that somehow I must have eventually fallen asleep, and now the warm light of dawn is flickering through the passing trees.

  "Wakey wakey," Erikson calls back from the driver's seat. "How you doing back there, Elizabeth? You manage to get your head down?"

  "Yeah," I mutter, still feeling kind of groggy. It takes a couple more seconds before I remember everything that happened yesterday with Dawn, or whatever her name was, and finally I look out the window and see that we seem to be way off the beaten track. "Where are we?" I ask.

  "Pennsylvania," Erikson says.

  "Seriously?"

  "I've got a friend out this way," he continues. "Haven't heard from him for a while, but last time I talked to him, he was living on a couple of acres of land, raising chickens and..." He pauses. "Well, I don't quite know what he was doing, to be honest, but he seemed to like coming out to the country and getting away from things." He turns to his girlfriend, who so far seems to be conspicuously ignoring me. "Shauna, do you remember what the hell Toad was doing out here?"

  "No fucking idea," she mutters.

  "Toad?" I say, a little shocked by the name.

  "It's what we called him at school," Erikson continues. "He's just... well, you'll see, but despite his appearance, he's a great guy. Actually, that's not fair. He's just kinda earthy, if you know what I mean. He's got no style. These days, the guy's usually to be found covered in fucking soil, digging some kind of garden or whatever the fuck he spends his time doing." Up ahead of us, a large farmhouse comes into view. "He's very friendly. We'll just stop here for a couple of days before we get going again. Maybe scrounge some supplies, if he's in a good mood. I don't know if -"

  Before he can finish the sentence, there's a loud pinging sound, as if something has ricocheted off the metal frame of the van. We keep going for a moment, before there's another loud bang and the entire windscreen shatters into a thousand pieces, spraying us all with glass and causing Erikson to swerve the van until it comes to a halt straight across the road.

  "Get down!" he shouts.

  Just as I duck down under the table, there's another loud bang, and this time it's clear that someone's shooting at us. My heart's racing as I crawl across the floor of the van, trying to get behind one of the chairs, but moments later there's a loud bang as a bullet bursts through the door and hits one of the bags over near the other seat.

&nbs
p; "Fucking asshole!" Erikson shouts from the foot-well of the driver's seat. "Anyone hurt?"

  "Get us out of here!" Shauna screams.

  "Elizabeth!" Erikson calls out. "You okay back there?"

  "Yeah!" I shout back. "But why's he shooting at us? I thought you said he was a friend!"

  "I also said he's a bit weird!" he replies, as another bullet strikes the van, followed by the ominous hissing sound of a slowly deflating tire. "Fuck! Now what are we supposed to do?"

  "Are those blanks?" Shauna asks, just as there's another shot, blasting a hole near the back of the vehicle.

  "Do they seem like blanks to you?" Erikson screams.

  "Doesn't he know it's you?" I ask. "Doesn't he recognize the van?"

  "I doubt it," Erikson says. "We kind of... liberated this baby from the guy who owned it before us. He was dead, though, so I figure it doesn't really matter. We cleaned it out and everything! There's no reason to worry."

  "We're going to die!" Shauna screams. "This is fucking insane! That asshole's going to kill us if you don't get us out of here!"

  Reaching up, Erikson tries to start the van again, but something seems to be wrong. He tries a couple more times, with no luck.

  "You're going to flood the engine!" Shauna hisses.

  "I know what I'm doing!" he replies.

  "I knew we should never have come here," Shauna continues, her voice filled with panic. "You're gonna die, and I'm gonna die, and this baby's gonna die before it ever has a chance to see the world. We never should have come to see this asshole, and we never should have picked those girls up! You know what we should have done, Einstein? We should have stayed the fuck where we were. We should have just stayed in place and waited for everything to go back to normal. Instead, you insisted on having us drive out here to see some psychotic loner who thinks the best option is to blow our fucking heads off!"

  "Calm down," Erikson replies, "I'm gonna fix this! Toad's not a bad guy, he's just scared. He probably thinks we're coming to rob him, that's all." He pauses. "At least we know he's alive. And he's stopped shooting, which is probably a good sign."

  "It just means he thinks we're already dead," Shauna mutters. "He'll wait a while, and then he'll come out to pick over what's left, and when he finds us, he'll blow our fucking heads off."

  "I'm gonna go out there," Erikson says after a moment.

  "No fucking way!" she replies.

  "Once he sees it's me," he continues, "he'll be fine! He's probably got binoculars or something lined up on us, so he just needs to see my face and everything'll be okay. He's not gonna shoot me! We go way back! We're friends! Honestly, there's just been a bit of a misunderstanding, but it'll all get smoothed out!"

  "Send her," Shauna says, looking back at me.

  "Why the fuck would we send her?" Erikson asks.

  "You know what Toad's like," she continues. "He likes the ladies. Show him a girl, he'll come running out of that place with his tongue hanging to his knees."

  "No way," I say. "He'll shoot me!"

  "No," Erikson says, turning to me, "Shauna's right. He probably wouldn't shoot me, but he definitely wouldn't shoot you. I mean, Toad's a fucking sucker for the ladies. He sees you, there's no way he'll shoot a hot girl when he thinks he can -"

  "Shut up!" Shauna shouts, slamming his head against the seat. "She's not hot, but she's a girl, so she'll do!" She turns to me. "No offense, but you get the idea. The guy has an eye for the ladies, and in my current condition, I don't really fit the bill. You might as well make yourself useful. Just go out there, wave at the house, and wait for him to come out. As soon as you can talk to him, tell him that Carl Erikson and Shauna Bennett are in this vehicle and tell him to stop being an ass!"

  I shake my head. There's no way I'm going to get out of this van while there's some maniac with a gun anywhere nearby, and I don't see why Erikson and Shauna really think I could be much help. I guess they just figure I'm expendable, and that it wouldn't be the end of the world for them if they miscalculated and I ended up with a bullet in the head. So far, this 'Toad' guy seems to be pretty trigger-happy, and I can't help thinking that they're underestimating his willingness to fire off some more shots.

  "Push her out," Shauna says after a moment.

  "No!" I shout.

  "Push her!" she says firmly. "Just do it!"

  "I'm not pushing anyone," Erikson replies.

  "So you'd rather put your own unborn child at risk?" she says. "I swear to God, if you don't push that little streak of piss out right now, I'll get out myself. Is that what you want? You want me to put myself in danger instead of her? That's nice to know, Carl. Really fucking nice!"

  "Maybe a pregnant woman would be the best one to go out," I mutter.

  They both turn and stare at me.

  "He's not going to shoot a pregnant woman, is he?" I continue.

  "Maybe I should be the one to go out there after all," Erikson says.

  "Fuck you," Shauna replies, reaching out to open the door on her side.

  "No!" Erikson shouts, grabbing her arm. He turns to me. "Listen, Elizabeth, you're the best option here. I've known Toad for a long time, and he's not going to shoot at you, okay? He's just not. The guy was just firing a few warning shots, but he's not insane. He'll at least hear what you have to say first, so just make sure he understands that you're here with us." He pauses. "Seriously, by the end of the day, we'll all be laughing about this. We'll be sitting around, chatting about the old days and generally having a good old natter, probably over some of that home-brewed beer Toad's always going on about."

  I open my mouth to say that I won't do it, but after a moment I realize that maybe I don't have a choice. From the way Shauna's staring at me, I genuinely believe that she'd be willing to physically throw me out, and it's not as if we can just stay in the van indefinitely, especially with a blown tire. Sooner or later, one of us has to go out there and talk to this guy. I just don't see why they're so convinced that I'm the best candidate for the job. Surely this Toad guy would react much better if he saw that his friends were here than if he spotted some random girl he's never seen before?

  "Isn't there some other way?" I ask. "Maybe we could make a sign and hold it up for him to see? Maybe we could make a white flag and wave it out the side of the van?"

  "Trust me," Erikson says firmly. "I know you don't really know me, but I wouldn't send you out there if I wasn't absolutely certain that you'll be safe." He pauses. "We're in this together, Elizabeth. We let you come into our van, we probably saved your life, and now it's your turn to do something. Yeah, it's risky, and yeah, it's pretty fucked up, but in the current circumstances, it's something that needs doing. You're not gonna let us down, are you?" He waits for me to answer. "Hand on my heart, I swear to God he's not going to hurt you."

  Sighing, I look over at the door, which still has a small bullet hole in the side.

  "He won't shoot once he sees you," Erikson says again.

  "You seem very sure about that," I say bitterly.

  "I am," he continues. "I know Toad. I mean, it's been a couple of years since I last saw him, but I know this guy and I know how his head works. People don't change, not that much. He's fundamentally a good and honest man."

  "Does he normally shoot at people when they're coming along his driveway?" I ask.

  "Strange times," Erikson replies with a hint of melancholy. "Strange fucking times."

  Without saying anything, I crawl over to the door, before reaching up and sliding it open. If the guy with the gun is in the farmhouse, he won't be able to see me until I get all the way out and walk forward a few meters, past the driver's door. My heart's racing, but I seem to be gaining some degree of strength that I never knew I possessed. Taking a deep breath, and forcing myself not to think about this too much, I climb out of the van, hold my hands up in the air, and walk around to the front. I'm pretty sure that this is the craziest thing I've ever done in my life, but I figure I've got no choice. I just hope that Erikson was r
ight when he said his friend Toad would never shoot me.

  The farmhouse is about fifty meters away. I can't see anyone, but I'm assuming that this Toad guy is watching me from one of the windows. Unless he's an absolute monster, he hopefully won't open fire on someone who's clearly unarmed, although the fact that his nickname is Toad doesn't give me much confidence. As I take a couple of steps forward, I realize that it's a good sign that he hasn't fired so far, so I keep walking, making sure to hold my hands up where he can see them at all times. So far, so good, but I won't be able to relax until he comes outside and I can see that there's no longer a gun pointing at me. I just have to trust that Erikson was right when he said that Toad wouldn't open fire, otherwise I'm an easy target.

  "Hello!" I shout eventually, although I figure I'm probably still too far away for him to be able to hear me properly.

  Silence.

  I turn and look back at the van. There's no sign of Erikson or Shauna, who are still down in the foot-wells, hiding from any potential stray bullets. I guess this is all very easy for them, and there's a part of me that wants to go and grab them, and then drag them out so that this 'Toad' guy can see us all.

  Realizing I have no choice but to keep going, I turn back toward the farmhouse and start walking again. I still can't work out where this Toad guy might be hiding, but I can't help imagining that he's got the crosshairs of his rifle aimed straight at my face.

  "Hello!" I shout once I'm a little closer. "My name's Elizabeth! I'm here with Carl Erikson and Shauna!"

  Silence.

  "They say they know you!" I continue, taking another step forward. "They sent me out here to tell you that -"

  Before I can finish, there's a loud gunshot, and I'm knocked clear off my feet as a powerful force smashes into my shoulder and sends me crashing to the ground.

  Thomas

  Missouri

  "Hey!" I scream, banging on the door. "Let me out of here! You've got no right to do this!"