Breakdown: Episode 8

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Breakdown: Episode 8 Page 2

by Jordon Quattlebaum


  Juliana sniffled and wiped away a tear. She nodded quickly. “Yes mama,” she said, in little more than a whisper.

  “Good girl. Hold on tight.”

  It was only about an 8-foot drop, and a spongy blanket of decomposing vegetation was there to break the fall.

  Nathan, however, was a mess of tears at this point, snot liberally covered the space between his nose and mouth. He’d choked back his cries, though, sensing the importance of quiet. Talia set him down gently and held a finger up to her own lips. “Shhh,” she said.

  Nathan held his own finger to his lips, “Shhh.”

  Talia smiled and kissed him on the head. She shrugged off her pack and dropped it at her feet. Next, she turned to grab Juliana and hoisted her onto her back, which caused a pain so jolting that her vision went white for a moment. Talia grit her teeth and focused on her breathing. Eventually the color began to return to her vision. She didn’t know if she could trust her body to complete the task at hand.

  And then her eyes met those of her son, and she knew that giving up wasn’t an option.

  “Just like a piggy-back ride baby.”

  She could feel her daughter nod against her back. Talia inhaled, and dropped to her stomach, and eased her body over the edge of the bluff. Now that she hung down, the drop was minimal, just a couple of feet. Safe for her girl.

  “All right baby. Slide down and wait for me at the bottom. Okay?”

  Another nod, and her daughter loosened her grip, sliding down to crash into the leaves below.

  Talia spared a glance downward, and seeing that her daughter was all right, wasted no time climbing back up.

  Up top she held her son and dropped to the ground just in time. A shot rang out and she heard the zip a split second later as it passed above her head.

  Instinct told her to dive to the ground, to make herself as small of a target as possible, but that little voice didn’t matter right now. She had to get her son down to the bottom of this bluff, then she could keep moving.

  Talia grabbed for the bag. Her fingers found a handful of fabric just as her right hand slipped from the rock face, sending her tumbling into a mess of leaves and mud. Her feet hit first; she let her knees bend. Her momentum carried her forward, and she rolled over her shoulder in an attempt to shield her son from her bodyweight rolling on top of him. She didn’t quite succeed, but it must have been enough. There were no cries.

  She quickly pulled her son to her front and backed herself against the bluff, looking left and right for sign of her daughter. A small flicker of movement to the west and a wave from a tiny hand revealed that she’d hidden behind a large tree stump.

  Talia held her breath, listening for their attacker to approach. Nothing…no sound at all. No birds chirped. No insects buzzed.

  “Good hiding spot, baby,” she said. “We have to keep moving for a little while, and we have to be very quiet, which means going slow. Keep looking for good hiding spots, okay? Someplace big enough for all three of us.”

  Juliana nodded. “Momma?”

  “Sweetie, I just said we need to be quiet.”

  “Yeah, but Momma, I think I found a spot.”

  Talia looked down at her daughter and followed the tiny outstretched arm that pointed back north. It took her a moment to find what the girl meant, since the spot was nearly covered by an overgrowth of vines. But eventually she locked on to what her daughter had seen: a large slab of limestone that had crumbled and fallen from the bluff above them.

  The boulder was far enough away that it was difficult to gauge how large it was, but they didn’t have much choice at this point. So they hurried toward the rock, as much as their little family could.

  Talia’s heart sank as she realized it wouldn’t be big enough to hide them.

  “Did I do good, Momma?” Juliana asked through misty eyes.

  “You did great sweetie, but I think we need to find one just a little bit bigger.”

  Juliana looked crestfallen. “All right Momma. But can we rest here just a minute if we’re real quiet? It’s hot and that air conditioning feels real good.”

  “Honey we’re outside, there’s no—” A gust of cool air breezed by her, cooling the sweat on her skin. “—air conditioning...”

  She shivered.

  Talia’s mind swam, and her hands tore wildly at the bits of ivy that clung to the rock. It could have been poison ivy for all she knew, but for now it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was the source of that cool air.

  She grabbed at the vines and pulled so wildly that chips of limestone wedged themselves under her fingernails, causing them to bleed. Still, she pulled. There were other smaller rocks that had worked their way behind the boulder, and Talia worked quickly to stack them off to the side. The cool air became more noticeable with every rock she moved. Juliana caught on and began to help, lifting what she could until they’d created a small opening, just large enough for a little girl to climb through.

  Talia fumbled at the side pocket of her backpack and retrieved a plastic lighter that had somehow survived the fall. Reaching her arm into the hole, she flicked the lighter to life, and nearly wept at what she saw: a hollow behind the boulder, just big enough to hide the three of them.

  “Go in, baby. Quick.”

  “I don’t want to. It’s scary.”

  “I’ll be right there. When you get in, crawl back and get a snack from your pack. You and Nathan should eat something.”

  “Okay, Momma.”

  Juliana summoned her courage and climbed in, half way in the paused to look over her shoulder.

  “Momma?”

  “Yeah baby?”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too, my beautiful daughter. Now move!”

  Without further hesitation, Juliana disappeared behind the boulder.

  Talia could hear her getting settled, humming a little song. The sound of it nearly broke Talia’s heart. It was the song that her husband would sing to the children when they were scared. Tears began to fall freely down her face as Talia helped Nathan through the opening. The sound of crinkling wrappers announced that the kids had found the snacks, allowing Talia to smile through her tears.

  She slid onto her belly and began to climb in when she felt some resistance. Initially she worried she’d been caught, that the man was holding her backpack and would pull her out any moment. But then her rational mind caught up to her thoughts. Her backpack was caught on the roots and rocks that formed the top edge of the hole. Feeling embarrassed, she crawled back out.

  Her breath caught in her throat, and Talia froze.

  “Well, now…what do we have here?” the man in the too-small fatigues announced, grinning while he trained his gun on her. “Pretty little thing, aren’t you? Pretty enough to eat!” He lunged toward her slightly, his teeth clacking as he pretended to bite her.

  “Please don’t hurt me. I’ll come with you…I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t hurt me.”

  She hated the sound those words made as they exited her lips. She’s heard it from countless victims, in film, in written word, and in the ER. She always swore that if she were in a similar situation she’d go down fighting. She knew better now. Those women were brave, and were doing and saying anything they could to protect their children.

  Children...

  Her attacker—Gunner, she thought the other man called him—didn’t seem to realize she had children with her, and she prayed that it would stay that way.

  Please Lord, let them be silent. Please Lord, let them be safe. You’ve taken so much from us in these last few days. Please, give me this. Keep my babies safe.

  “Anything, eh? Well, I can think of quite a few things I’d like to do to a pretty lady like you that might make you regret that promise. But, a deal’s a deal.�
� The big man smiled and ran his tongue over his lips. The gesture vaguely reminded Talia of the snakes they’d seen in the herpetarium in the zoo the previous summer.

  She shivered at the thought.

  “Oh you like that eh?” the big man said excitedly, “Well, this could be fun, then!”

  Talia fought back the fear, and the tears. There had to be a way out of this. She couldn’t just die and leave her children in a cave on their own in the middle of the woods. She couldn’t. This was not the way she was meant to go. She wanted to run nearly as much as she wanted to choke the life from the man, but she held her footing. She would be calm. He would make a mistake. She would bait him into it, and then when he had his guard down, she would attack, or run. Whatever the situation called for.

  Talia held her hands up in the air, slowly.

  “Where are we headed?”

  “Trailer park couple miles north of the trail, in a little town there.”

  “Sounds cozy,” she said, trying to sound cheerful.

  “Cozier than the place they were about to transfer us to, that’s for sure.”

  Gunner walked toward her, one step at a time. Talia backed up slowly, step by step until she felt a tree at her back. Suddenly retreat was no longer an option.

  “Jailbird, eh?” she said. “What were you in for?” Dumb words. Clumsy words, but they were the first that came to mind.

  “None of your damn business, lady. Now get walking.”

  Talia swallowed, trying to keep the bile in her throat from finding daylight. Her voice quivered when she spoke her next words. “I want to know what you’re going to do to me.” She hated herself for saying it, but it bought her more time, and took her further from the cave where her children hid—and confused her attacker. Besides, hearing it from his mouth might make killing the man a little easier for her.

  “Oh you want to know, eh?” the man said, fumbling at his belt with one hand. “I could always just do it to you now…I was going to wait until we got back into town, in a nice soft bed, but I’m not picky.”

  “I do.” Talia replied, as the seed of a plan beginning to take root in her mind.

  His belt came off, and with it the holstered revolver he’d taken from Linus. He dropped the belt, which landed softly in a pile of leaves, and struggled to pull the overly-tight pants down one handed. They were about mid-thigh when Talia turned to run.

  Left foot.

  It was so much easier without her pack on, and without the kids in tow.

  Right foot.

  She felt light. Like the wind was carrying her along to freedom.

  Left foot.

  She’d outrun him, circle around, grab the gun and hide in the cave. If he popped his head inside, she’d take it off of his shoulders.

  Right foot.

  They could sleep through the day and then move at night. Once they were safe at the farm she’d ask them to send a rescue team for Linus.

  Left foot.

  Gunfire. A long burst, fired wildly with one hand. The kick carried each shot a bit higher, a bit closer to its target.

  Right foot.

  Talia gasped as something hot tore through her right calf muscle and sent her tumbling to the ground. Another shot bit into the meat of her right thigh and the pain of it burned white hot streaks through her vision.

  “No.” she thought, “Not like this.”

  Her momentum carried her forward, end over end until she settled onto her back. She tried to rise, but couldn’t. The pain was just too strong, and something was wrong with the mechanics of her body. She wasn’t going anywhere.

  She screamed in anger, and again in defiance, as the fugitive stalked ever closer, a sick smile on his flushed face.

  “Shouldn’t have done that,” he chided, laying the rifle down. “We could have played nice…now you’ve made me mad.” He grabbed her shirt and ripped it open.

  Talia spat in his face and glanced down briefly. Her heart leapt, and she wept at what she saw.

  “You like what you see, eh?” Gunner asked proudly.

  Talia nodded.

  “That’s my girl.” The man said smugly, reaching for the zipper of Talia’s pants.

  Her fist curled beside her thigh, carefully…slowly. Then she raised her arm and punched him in the throat as hard as he could.

  Gunner stood suddenly, both hands clutched to his windpipe. He brought a huge fist back, ready to smash Talia’s face.

  An impossibly loud gunshot echoed through the forest, followed quickly by another.

  “No,” Talia said, tears streaming down her face. “That’s MY girl.”

  The fugitive looked down in confusion. He stared at the spreading pool of blood growing on his chest. He reached for his rifle, but a third shot rang out and sent the big man to his knees.

  Talia lay there, watching with strange fascination as the man slowly toppled the rest of the way to the ground. He lay awkwardly on his side, his pants still pulled down.

  His eyes were locked onto hers. His mouth fumbled to speak, lips moving futilely as blood bubbled through them.

  Talia leaned in to the dying man, heard his death rattle and knew that this was likely his last breath.

  He looked at her, pleading for some sort of comfort. Talia struggled for a moment, wondering what her husband would say. He was such a good man. He’d offer words of compassion and forgiveness as this man was ushered to whatever judgement awaited him on the other side of life. Her mind turned then, to the night they’d met Linus. She thought of how he’d reacted when he’d laid his hands on her, trying to keep her from discovering the cash and documents in the hidden fanny pack he wore.

  She smiled. It was with her husband in mind that she spoke the last words Gunner would ever hear this side of eternity.

  “You know,” she said with one last glance down, “I’ve had better.”

  …

  Juliana stood just a few feet away, the smoking revolver resting at her feet. She held her hands frozen in air as if she were afraid to move.

  Talia wrapped her hand around a nearby sapling and managed to pull herself to sitting, though just barely. “You ok, sweetie?” she asked, her voice much softer than she’d intended. Juliana gave a slight nod but kept silent, her face white as a sheet. Talia looked down and suddenly realized how bad it was: there was an alarming amount of blood, more than her daughter had seen before on any occasion save one—her husband’s death. Her right calf had an entry and exit wound, both easy enough to treat if she could get her hands on the first aid kit in her bag. She noted with a glimmer of hope that the wound higher up on her thigh wasn’t bleeding heavily enough to suggest an arterial injury. That was a good thing.

  The bad news was that the bullet was still somewhere inside. It had struck bone, she’d felt that much, and there was a good possibility that it had fragmented on impact. Or broken her femur. That would explain her inability to run when she’d tried.

  When she was learning to shoot, well before she’d become a nurse, John had taught her something simple: killing someone wasn’t as easy as it appeared in the movies. Many times, in the heat of the moment, a soldier could be shot and not even realize it until well after the battle was finished. He’d taught her that bullets are relatively small things, that there were only a couple of places you could shoot someone and take them down reliably with one shot, and that in a fight, it was incredibly hard to hit those places. People didn’t tend to stay still in a gunfight.

  “There are three ways to disable a threat with violence,” she recalled him saying. “You disrupt the mechanics, the hydraulics, or the electronics. The body is a machine, and if you do enough damage to the skeletal, circulatory, or nervous systems, it shuts down. Just like a machine.” She’d already known as much, but it was his voice in her head that delivered the
memory.

  Right now her mechanical systems were damaged, but it was the hydraulics that concerned her.

  “Baby, listen carefully,” Talia whispered, “Go back and grab Mommy’s backpack. On the right side there’s a red bag. Can you bring it to me?”

  The little girl nodded.

  “Hurry now,” she gasped. “Mommy needs you to hurry.” Juliana popped up, and ran to grab the bag. She was back at her mother’s side in just a few short seconds. “Thank you baby.”

  Talia had her hands on her wounds, applying pressure; they were slick with blood, and she was nervous that if she removed the pressure long enough to prepare the dressing, she’d pass out.

  “Sweetie, Mommy needs your help. Open up the bag for me.” Juliana’s small hands fumbled at the zipper. “The back zipper, hon—the little pocket. There it is. Good girl. Now, open up the red bag. There should be a green piece of plastic in there with the word ‘Pressure’ on it. It starts with the letter ‘P’.”

  Talia waited while her daughter searched, eventually coming up with the bandage. “Ok. I need you to open that up for me. Use your pocket knife if you need to. Just be careful.” Once again, small hands struggled with their task, but this time they came up victorious, and the plastic packaging tore along the perforated notch. “Good girl. Take the bandage out. And hold it right by my hand. Now close your eyes.”

  Juliana closed her eyes tightly, and Talia moved her hand away from the wound on her calf. She took just a second to look at the wound again. The pressure had already started to reduce the bleeding—a good sign. She slapped the dressing over the entrance wound and applied pressure. The self-adhesive did its job, and the bandage stuck firmly in place.

  “Ok, baby…I need you to press right here on the bandage, okay? Just put your hands here and lean in with your body, don’t use your arm muscles, they’ll get tired too quickly.”

  The little girl nodded and pressed both hands tightly against the bandage, leaning in with her body weight.

 

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