by Hunt, James
Ben rushed back to the fire station. He quickly found his locker and dressed in his fire gear. Pants, jacket, and helmet secured over his clothes, then readjusted his go-bag so he wore it over his jacket.
Suited up, Ben reached for the box at the bottom of his locker, which contained an item he had hoped he never needed to use: the fire tent.
The department had invested in some fire tents in the case they got called to fight any forest fires in the area. The tent was designed to withstand the heat of a blaze should a firefighter be trapped.
The success of the device was disputed, and while Ben hoped he would never be in a position to have to try to find out if they worked, he knew having one now was better than nothing.
The tent was small enough to fit in Ben’s bag, and then he rushed to the ambulance where Hawthorne and Kurt were still sitting.
“You need to get him moving now,” Ben said, his voice breathless.
Hawthorn was still hooked up to the needle, a bag filling with his blood. “What?”
“The city’s on fire,” Ben answered. “And the flames are heading this way.”
The concern registered on Hawthorne’s face quickly, and he nodded. “Right. I’ll get us moving.”
Ben stepped into the ambulance. “I’ll help you—”
“No,” Hawthorne said, his voice stern. “You need to go get your boys.”
“Captain, you won’t be able to move him on your own,” Ben said.
“Like hell, I can’t,” Hawthorne said. “I passed my physical exam last summer, the same as you.”
Ben knew the captain was stubborn, but he also knew he still needed to get his boys. “You won’t have time for the transfusion, so just get him ready now.” Ben reluctantly stepped out of the ambulance, struggling to make his decision to leave.
But the captain decided for him.
“If you don’t leave right now, I’m going to take that gun and shoot you,” Hawthorne said, gesturing to the rifles Ben had left behind.
“Head to the river,” Ben said. “That’s going to be your best bet.”
“I will,” Hawthorne said, removing the needle and taping a bandage down over the crook of his elbow. “Now move it, Lieutenant. That’s an order.”
Ben nodded. “Sir.” He turned away from the ambulance, mind clear of conflict as he stepped back onto the street. He didn’t turn around to look at the station one last time as he jogged down the road. He held out hope that he would see it again.
But he wouldn’t.
6
O nce Liz managed to get Margaret and Harry back to their house and patched Harry’s busted nose up, she remained by the window, watching the road and making sure the Percys didn’t decide to come and push their luck.
Liz wouldn’t put it past them to try something now that they had drawn first blood. But the longer she remained by the window and saw no signs of the Percy family, she let herself relax. That was until Harry’s sulking turned into something more troublesome.
“They’re animals.” Harry Simmons sat at the kitchen table, arms crossed as he hunched over. His face was still bloodied and swollen from the altercation with Lester. “All of them. They can’t be reasoned with like normal people. They only understand violence.”
“They’ll calm down,” Liz said, staying by the window. “They’ll drink themselves to sleep.”
“Do you know what he said to me?” Harry asked, scowling. “Do you know what he said he was going to do to my daughter?”
“Harry, please,” Margaret said, her voice exasperated. “She will come home.”
Harry quickly stood from his chair, raising his voice. “She should be home already! With us, and not with those… those… monsters!” He clenched his hands into fists so tight that he started to shake.
Liz stepped away from the window and joined Margaret by her husband at the kitchen table. “I know you’re upset—”
“Upset?” Harry asked. “The man beat me and threatened to rape my daughter!”
“He said what?” Margaret stood, hand on her chest.
“That’s right!” Harry slammed his fist on the table, eliciting a muted thud. “He said that he and his brother were going to take turns.” His cheeks reddened.
“He’s all talk,” Liz said, though she was just as disturbed by the comment as the rest of them. “And Gray isn’t as bad as the rest of his family. Lester was just trying to get a rise out of you.” She looked to Margaret, who had both hands over her face, tears filling her eyes.
Liz knew she was losing them, and she needed a cooler head to prevail. “Harry, Margaret, this will blow over. You have to trust me.”
It was silent for a minute, and Harry bowed his head. He stared at his shoes for a long time, and when he lifted his gaze, Liz hoped her words had reached him. But when she saw the look in his eyes, she knew she had failed.
“Lester Percy isn’t the only one with a gun,” Harry said.
The words dropped like rocks from Harry’s mouth as the room fell silent.
“Harry,” Liz said, the first to speak and keeping her voice incredibly calm. “That’s not something you want to do right now. Trust me.”
“It’s not?” Harry asked, his tone mocking. “Because the last time I checked, this was none of your fucking business, Liz.”
Harry walked past Liz, knocking his shoulder into hers on the way past with force meant to hurt, but Liz didn’t escalate the situation.
“Harry,” Margaret said, watching her husband walk toward the door. “Harry!”
Harry slammed the door shut on his exit, rattling the walls and windows of the house, leaving the three women in the house alone.
Liz knew how all of this was going to end if Harry stormed down the street in a bluster and barged into the Percy Household, guns blazing. And when she turned to Margaret, who was hyperventilating and clutching her chest, Liz knew she understood the outcome as well.
“He’s going to get himself killed,” Margaret turned to the left and right, and then finally sat down but continued to fidget. “He’s going to get himself killed.” She looked to Liz, a pleading desperation in her eyes.
But Liz didn’t know what Margaret expected her to do. She had already done her part by bringing Harry home the first time. This wasn’t her fight.
“What should we do?” Margaret asked.
“He’s made his decision,” Liz answered. “There’s nothing we can do to change his mind.” She turned away from Margaret but only made it a few steps before Margaret stood, knocking her chair back in the process.
“He’s going to die!” Margaret shouted.
Liz paused, her patience running thin. She turned to face Margaret and saw the woman was trembling. “Margaret, I don’t want to get caught up in something that will put my family in danger. I’m sorry.”
The realization finally set on Margaret’s face, and she grew cold and distant. “I see.” She wiped her eyes, her calm demeanor suddenly frightening and strange. “Well, then, when all of this gets sorted out, I suppose I’ll have to ask my husband about whether or not we should revoke the deed to your property.”
Liz stepped forward, anger rising in her voice. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, your husband didn’t tell you?” Margaret asked, playing innocent. “He refinanced the house to pay for Sarah’s college.” She walked to Liz, her eyes piercing like daggers. “Good luck, Elizabeth. You’re going to need it.”
Margaret walked out of the door and slammed it shut. Liz tensed, upset by the news, upset over the fact that Ben hadn’t spoken to her about the house, and upset that she had helped that woman in the first place.
“To hell with her,” Liz said. “I shouldn’t have helped them to begin with.”
“Liz.” Susan had remained on the couch during the entire ordeal, her shoes off and her feet up. In her condition, she could do little but act as a spectator.
“I put my life on the line to go up there to the Percy house,” Liz said, still steeping in her anger. “
That psycho family won’t do anything but—”
“Liz!” Susan shouted, finally catching Liz’s attention. “You can’t do this to yourself.”
Liz knew Susan was right. She allowed herself to become too emotionally involved. She needed to remain detached and pragmatic. That was the only way she was going to survive.
Liz walked over to the chair by the sofa and sat down, resting her elbows on top of her knees as she hunched forward and rubbed her eyes. “It’s only been a few hours, and things are already falling apart.”
“People are scared,” Susan said. “It’s natural.”
Liz dropped her hands and smiled at the pregnant woman on her couch. “I thought I was supposed to be the one comforting you.”
“You did,” Susan said. “Now it’s my turn.”
Liz chuckled and then leaned back into the chair. She drummed her fingers on the armrest. “I didn’t know Ben had refinanced the house. I don’t know why he wouldn’t have told me about that.”
“I’m sure he has a good reason,” Susan said. “Ben never struck me as the man who enjoyed sneaking around.”
Liz nodded. “He isn’t.” She drummed her fingers on the couch and decided that she would push that thought aside until Ben returned. There were more pressing matters.
“Listen,” Susan said. “I know I’m the last person who should be giving you advice, especially with me being about as useful as the couch I’m sitting on, but… You can’t help people who don’t want it.”
Liz sighed. “I know.” She turned to the door where Harry and Margaret had gone. She couldn’t save everyone. And she wasn’t going to risk her own family’s safety to do it.
THE GUNFIRE and the drinking had only grown worse, and what had started as something fun and dangerous had quickly turned ugly and frightening. But Nancy kept hold of Gray’s hand, trusting that he wouldn’t allow her to be hurt.
Nancy had never been frightened of the Percy family. If anything, she felt sorry for them. She knew Gray had a hard time, and that they struggled with money, and they didn’t have many nice things. But for some reason, all of them seemed content with what they had. Or at the very least they made the best of it. All of them save for Gray.
Gray had told her how much he was looking forward to getting away from his family to start his own life. He loved them, but he wanted something more than this.
Nancy didn’t know any other boys who thought about the future the way Gray did. It made him feel older, more mature. And it definitely made him more attractive.
“You know, you don’t have to stay,” Gray said, his breath tickling her as he whispered in her ear. “You should probably go and be with your dad.”
Nancy knew Gray was right, but the sudden mention of her father fueled anger instead of empathy. “I’ll go home when I want to.” She inched closer to Gray and rested her head on his shoulder. “And I don’t want to right now.”
Gray was quiet for a minute and then kissed the top of her head. “You know, you shouldn’t be so hard on your family.”
Nancy pulled back. “I could say the same for you.”
“You know what I mean,” Gray said. “Your parents mean well. I think they’re just… a little out of touch.”
Nancy studied Gray, surprised. “And you don’t think your parents are a little out of touch?”
“My parents are insane,” Gray answered. “That’s not up for debate.”
Nancy giggled, and she relaxed a little bit. It was hard for her to stay mad at him for very long. But the talk of Gray’s parents had triggered some questions Nancy had wanted to ask for a long time but had never dared to ask. “The rumors about your family,” Nancy asked. “Are they true?”
Nancy watched Gray’s expression transform from playful to serious, and he removed his arm from her shoulders and clasped his hands between his knees the way he did whenever he was nervous.
“You can tell me,” Nancy said. “Or if you don’t, I understand that too.”
Gray nodded, and another blast of the shotgun pulled his attention to his father and uncle. Both of them were drunker than Nancy had ever seen them whenever she visited Gray at his house.
“My parents, they’re…” Gray struggled to find the words. “They do the best they can with what they have. Most of the rumors people talk about are from my grandfather’s time as the head of the household. My dad doesn’t talk about him very much, but the few times he has haven’t been good.”
Nancy knew the stories. Buford Percy was a feared member of the community.
“My dad can be violent,” Gray said. “But he’s never laid a hand on me when he’s drunk. And I’ve never seen him lay a hand on my mom, either. Not that she would ever let him.”
Nancy knew that was true. Jane Percy was a strong woman, and of all Gray’s family, it was Jane who frightened her the most. She was the brains behind the brawn that was her husband.
“My family isn’t perfect,” Gray said. “They’re just doing the best they can with what they have. That’s all.”
Nancy kissed Gray and then smiled. “I love you, Gray Percy.”
Gray brightened with a smile. “You’ve never said that before.”
Nancy shrugged. “Well, I guess I’ve never felt like saying it before.” She arched an eyebrow. “Is there anything you’d like to say back.”
“Oh, I love you too,” Gray said, tripping over his words. “I do, really.”
Nancy laughed and then kissed him again. It didn’t seem that there was anything that could ruin their night. But she had spoken too soon.
“Nancy Simmons, you are coming home with me right now!”
Nancy pulled away from Gray, startled by the booming voice, and then she saw her father walking toward her, a pistol in his hand, angrier than she had ever seen him in her entire life.
“Dad, what are you doing?” Nancy asked.
Harry Simmons marched toward his daughter and snatched her arm, yanking her from the chair next to Gray with a violent tug.
“Ow, Dad!” Nancy yelped, but her father ignored her cries.
“We’re leaving now!” Harry turned, pulling Nancy with him but stopped in his tracks when he saw Lester in his path.
“I thought I told you to leave, Simmons,” Lester said, one hand on his rifle and the other still holding his beer as Donny joined his brother’s side.
Harry stiffened, and while his voice shook, he stood his ground again. “I’m taking my daughter out of here.”
“Dad,” Gray rushed to his father’s side. “Just drop it. Let Nancy go home—”
Lester silenced his son with one glare, and the boy backed down. He then returned his attention to Harry and Nancy.
“I’m not going to ask again,” Lester said.
“Neither am I,” Harry said and raised the pistol, aiming it at Larry.
“Dad!” Nancy shouted.
Lester laughed. “You’re going to shoot me, Harry? You don’t have the balls.”
“Back off, Lester!” Harry shouted, spit flying from his lips. “I’m warning you!”
Lester stepped closer until his chest was against the end of Harry’s pistol. “Do it.”
“Harry!” Margaret Simmons appeared, horrified by the scene and screaming at her husband. “Harry, stop it now!”
Nancy watched as her father trembled. He was unable to keep his arm steady. The pistol wavered against Lester’s chest.
“Do it,” Lester said, barring his teeth.
“Harry, put the gun down!” Margaret said.
“Do it!” Lester shouted, screaming into Harry’s face.
Nancy cowered, watching her father struggle. “Dad…”
Harry looked at his daughter, and then the fight ran out of him. He lowered the pistol.
Lester laughed. “Pussy! Just like you’ve always been!” He finished his beer and then chucked it away and gripped his rifle with both hands. “Even with your daughter’s life on the line, you couldn’t stand up and be a man!”
Bec
ause Nancy was in the middle of the action, it was hard for her to see everything that unfolded in the next few seconds, and when it was over, she was shocked at how much her life would change in such a short amount of time.
Lester reached for Nancy’s arm, yanking her toward him. Harry shouted something, wedging himself between Lester and Nancy. Nancy saw Gray move toward her, and then she shuddered from the sound of the gunshot, and then everything went still.
“Oh my God,” Margaret said, covering her hand with her mouth. “Harry!”
Harry Simmons dropped to his knees, hands immediately covering the gunshot wound to his stomach.
Nancy and Margaret rushed to Harry, catching him in their arms before he fell forward in the dirt.
“Harry? Harry!?” Margaret grew more hysterical as she clawed at Harry’s shoulder.
Nancy stared down at the blood soaking the front of her father’s shirt. She hesitantly placed her hand over her father’s, looking up at Harry the same way she had when she was a child. “Daddy?”
Margaret turned her attention to Lester. “What did you do?”
Lester remained silent, looking down at Harry with surprise. “I didn’t…”
Nancy watched as more blood poured out of her father. “He needs help. We need to call for help.”
“We can’t!” Margaret shouted. “We can’t do anything!”
But Nancy didn’t believe that. “Mr. Riker. He’s a firefighter. He could help.”
“He’s not home,” Margaret said.
“Well, then maybe Mrs. Riker can help,” Nancy said, her tone matching her mother’s hysterical pitch. “We have to get him moved!”
Gray rushed over and helped lift Harry off the ground, but Lester pulled him back.
“Dad, stop!” Gray tried to shake his father loose, but he was unable.
Nancy watched as Lester whispered something in Gray’s ear, and then the boy only nodded. If that was how he wanted to act, then so be it. She would save her father herself.
“C’mon, Mom,” Nancy said. “We need to get him up. On three. One, two, three!”
They managed to lift Harry to his feet, his entire weight supported between them, and they staggered forward, moving as fast as they could while Harry’s wound continued to bleed.
