Young Writers Society

Day Five

The sound of liquid splashing catches my attention and I turn to see Charlotte downing two flasks, one at a time.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

She looks back at me and hiccups. "S-sorry, it just helps my nerves. I usually keep a b-bottle in the dashboard but you m-made me walk with-"

I give an exasperated sigh, effectively cutting her off.

"You want s-some?"

I stop, eyeing her outstretched hand with a flask sitting perfectly on her palm. My hands twitch at my sides as its familiar shape takes me back.

. . .

"Give the boy some, it'll put hair on his chest." my father laughs, taking another swig from the bottle.

I'm barely eight years of age, but the brightly-colored liquid my father seems so eager to share with me makes me feel older- more appreciated by my family.

"Yeah, I want some." I pipe up at my mother filling the silver flasks.

"You can try it, but don't come crying to me if you don't like it." She hands over the one in her hand.

I take it and chuck it back just like my father does. The burning sensation in my throat and coughing is immediate.

"What," I start sputtering, "was that?"

My dad sighs, oddly sober for how drunk he must be. "That'll be your salvation if you ever go into my line of work."

. . .

I take the flask and finish it in one swallow. I've grown to see the burn as more than just its pain. It makes me feel just a bit warmer, both inside and out.

"Say Charlotte, who exactly did Steven hit with his car?"

She winces, but as I expected, doesn't hesitate to share.

[insert story and her revealing their names]

I hear a burst of static from Steven's side of the call, effectively garbling his speech.

"Speak up," I growl, patience thinning. "You're cutting out."

"I... diner... she... on the... soon." The words come in and out. Steven's voice fizzes out on the last word, leaving me in a period of crackling static. I grip the phone tighter in my hand, my knuckles turning white.

"She? Are you talking about the girl? I swear to-" I'm cut off when a loud screech from his side of the call that sounds more like the pealing of tires than that of poor connection interrupts me.

"Got...bringing,,, can you hear...? I said... tunnel... and she's... shortly..."

I push the phone to my ear, straining to hear each and every sound on the other end. When it's clear I can't make out another word, I force myself to speak each word slowly. "Do you... have her... or not?"

A scream slices through the line, sending a hot flash of pain into my ear. Steven yells something away from the phone and projects his voice much more clearly into the speaker than before.

"Cabin... soon."

I know what he's saying now. And it terrifies me.

"Charlotte- or whatever you name is- you're coming with me."

The woman, as far from me as I'll allow her to be, freezes. It's obvious she was trying to eavesdrop without getting an inch closer. What she heard- if anything at all- must have been the static. When she sees my expression, her eyes start bugging out in a freakish sort of way.

"What did Steven say?" Her voice is hoarse and filled with worry.

"We're going back to the cabin. He found her." I drop the phone into my pocket. Instead of the stroke of euphoria I figured I would feel, apprehension pools in my chest. I can't be... scared of this girl? No, the feeling isn't apprehension or even fear. It's something more... sickening. Whatever it is, I shove it out of my mind and focus on the task at hand.

"I want to call Steven." Charlotte says at once. The only tremors I can see are the slight ones in her hands. She's obviously trying to sound demanding. I almost laugh.

I make my way over to her. I'm not going as quickly as I can, but even a child could outrun this mess of a woman. My hand is around he wrist before she can even turn.

"Let me go-" she cries, her voice reaching a shriek.

"Just making sure you can't bolt. You started this and you will see it out." I pull her back the way we came, galloping at a pace she can hardly match. We haven't been combing the woods for long, but I keep up a full sprint the full way back. Every twinge of pain in my muscles reminds me of Alice and I push myself to make it to the cabin faster.

We reach the edge of the surrounding woods, the bare fall trees coming to a spinning halt. Charlotte is wheezing, but the the sound of turning tires on gravel is much more prominent in my ears. A door flies open and Steven's head pops out.

"What's wrong with Annabel?" Steven demands, letting slip Charlotte's real name.

"She's fine. Where is she?" I find myself trying to peer behind the driver's door- Steven's makeshift barrier- and realize why he's so terrified. I snatch up my gun and raise it towards him.

"The girl. Now."

Even from behind the tinted window, I can see his eyes widen.

"We had a deal- you can't hurt Annabel or I!" He says this, but it sounds more like a whine.

"And I'll follow through on that just as soon as you give me the girl."

Steven's eyes glance back at Charlotte- Annabel- and he hesitates. Finally he steps back from behind the driver's side and pulls open the back door. A figure comes into view as he drags a pair of legs bound tightly with rope from the seat. The girl's head makes a thickening thump on the ledge, but she only lets out a small cry.

"Harold-" She gasps suddenly, eyes following me as Steven drags her by her feet from the car. It brings back the cold feeling in my chest.

"Shut up," I say, swallowing the sickly feeling in my throat. "Just shut up."

"Please, just listen. She's-"

"She's?" I laugh, fingers twitching on the trigger. "Who's 'she'?"

"Alice. She's alive."

I pause, my mouth open in an odd way. Why would she say that? Is Alice... no, she's just trying to trick me. Trying to win back her life.

"Liar."

"No please-" She tries to sit up, only succeeding in getting her mane of red hair caught in her mouth. "Please just listen. I know where she is."

Steven, who has somehow snuck back to the safety of his car, pokes his head out from behind the door.

"She tried to tell me the same thing. I figured you'd want to see this girl first-"

"First? What do you mean? Did you see Alice?"

He shakes his head. "No- she just told me the other girl was at the diner. I tried to tell you on the call but you said you couldn't hear me."

A laugh, borderline manic, escapes my mouth. "Are you all in on it? The sick, fucking joke that my sister is alive?"

The girl- Rory, pushes weakly against her the splitting edges of the rope cutting into her skin. "Let me go, I'll show you where she is. I swear she's alive."

I start walking towards her, causing Steven to flinch back deeper into his car. A cry escapes Rory's throat as I kneel over her- my gun pressed against her neck.

"Listen carefully," I purr, inches from this girl's face. It's all I can do not to laugh for some reason. "Let's say Alice is alive. You're gonna show me where she is.  As I'm feeling oddly generous at the moment, I might even be gracious enough to let you go. How does that sound?"

I cringe. I don't sound at all how I wanted to. I find my mouth hanging open and shut it quickly.

Remembering the girl in front of me, I watch her head nod, eyes wide and unblinking. I hope she can't hear my heart pounding in my chest.

"But," I add, "If she's not alive and well or nowhere to be seen... I'll make sure you regret the day you ever met my little sister. Not just with your death, but with the deaths of the rest of your family. Understand?" My voice cracks at "little sister" but she doesn't seem to notice.

She nods once more and the sickening coldness hits me again like a sledgehammer. I don't want to kill her. I could try and delude myself into believing that it's nerves, but that's just not true. She looks like Alice. Not physically, of course, but how she acts. Her courage, her defiance. Even now, when I'm threatening to take everything from her, she's keeping herself calm and listening to me. Just like Alice. I don't want to kill her. Alice would love to point that finger at me but I've never pulled the trigger. Not once. 

I'd thought about it though. Not to hurt anyone. The only pain I'd have caused by pulling the trigger is my sister when she found me.

My breath catches and I remember whose eyes I'm staring into.

That's just perfect. Alice and Rory- two peas in a pod. The only difference is Alice killed not for pleasure, but for necessity. She had everything to lose. I planned to kill  Rory because she was going to ruin everything for my family. Even before she deserved it, it was never for fun. But Rory, why could she have killed my sister? Told her something to get her to jump? She had nothing to loose- there was no need. I may not want to kill Rory, but in my kind of business, it's never personal, is it? Just necessity.