Young Writers Society

Day Six

Endless. That's how this road feels. I'm not gonna deny that I deserve it though.

I've been at this for hours. Even the night sky- like a void or a black hole- is finally letting some light slip through. I look up at the sky and flinch. The crimson sunrise just budding through the trees is the exact shade of Rory's hair. Or was her hair.

A shiver runs down my spine. It's still chilly out and a little windy, but that isn't what is making me feel uneasy.

I'd figured she was dead before. That Harold had gotten her and chucked her off the side of the cliff. Maybe worse; though, I wouldn't have thought Harold've had it in him. But now? I don't even have to guess. 

Lightning doesn't usually strike twice.

How much damage have I done to this girl's life? Firstly, I killed her parents. I left her an orphan just as I had been marked as one. I didn't even consider the targets- people- would have children. They were just money to make ends meet. Secondly, I brought her here. I allowed her to get into a truck with Harold and I knowing full well that my brother would have other plans. She could've run before we had been hours away from her home. Why had I been so selfish? Even if I did catch the rock and have a few seconds to distract Harold, he would just go after her again! And lastly, I got her killed. Maybe I should have just let Harold push her off the cliff. It would have been quicker. She wouldn't have been left alone in the woods for days with a homicidal guy after her. 

The funniest thing about all this is that my brother has never actually killed anyone. He's never needed to. Even now, he still doesn't need to. He has me.

My legs finally give out and I curl up into a ball in the middle of the road. In the past few days, I've destroyed my body and only now I'm finally feeling the effects. Maybe the adrenaline has worn off. Or maybe I've lost my purpose to keep going. I have no one now.

I feel something hit my cheek and look up. A light sprinkle of rain from overhead starts to fall. It isn't a heavy enough downpour to wash away the dried blood. but my tears are forgotten. 

I listen to the quiet chirp of the frogs nearby and try to locate one with my gaze. There's a small splash as a quick flash of green leaps from a leaf. I watch it hop away. This could be my life now. Waiting in this road until the eventual wild animal picks me off or car runs me over. Maybe it'll be starvation that gets me. That seems fair.

A low rumble grows in the distance, but my eyes are firmly shut. The vibrations in the ground almost feel nice. One last image of the girl I killed pops up in my head. Death will be a relief.

The tires squeal as someone hits the brake. They must swerve into a ditch because I hear a loud crunch and I am splattered with water. My heart lurches. Is someone else hurt because of me?

Using my good arm, I push myself into a sitting position and train my eyes on the car. The driver's door flies open and hits a tree trunk, denting it further. My breath catches in my throat.

"I swear to god- don't move an inch!"

I know that voice.

My eyes lock on Harold who looks almost as bad as me. He's banged up plenty and his left leg is a dragging behind him but I'm more concerned about the look on his face. Wild, bloodshot eyes that follow me and the gun he has planted in his hands. It's trained on me and his fingers are twitching awfully close to the trigger.

Another door, the one behind the driver's, is pushed open. A ghost steps out.

"See, I promised you she would be alive!"

My arms are around the ghost before she can say anything else.

"I'm so sorry Rory, I'm so incredibly sorry." My words slur together and are hardly heard over the steadily increasing rain. 

"Alice," she seems hesitant at first but eventually breaks, "I want to go home."

I look up into her eyes. Nothing else exists. "Even if it kills me, I swear I'm going to get you home."

She nods, her expression crinkling. I watch a single tear roll down her cheek. I reach up and grab the sides of her face. I need her to believe me.

"Rory, I'm going to get you home. This is all just a bad dream, I promise."

A gun clicks as someone cocks it. I immediately step in front of Rory.

"Alice, move."

The rain is getting heavier, but I can still see the look on Harold's face.

I shake my head. "You don't want to do this."

A laugh escapes his mouth but he doesn't lower the gun. "I'd never hurt you Alice. But I need you to move. For our safety."

"Put the gun down Harold."

He narrows his eyes but doesn't move an inch. "Why are you choosing her? She's ruined everything."

"No," I almost shout, "I have. Let her go. You and I can crawl into whatever hole you want." I try to ignore the sinking feeling in my gut when my words are met with empty silence.

All at once, Harold laughs, but he lowers the gun a little. "You know I want to take you up on that. I don't want to hurt anyone. But she... she..." His face suddenly seems unsure. "...killed you."

"Killed me? What the hell are you talking about?"

Harold lets the gun fall down to his side. He looks confused. "When you fell-"

"When I jumped." I interject.

His eyes widen. I don't know what words my face is betraying, but he reads them like a book.

"Jump." He tries out the word hesitantly and drops the gun to his side. "Why'd you do it, Alice?" The voice is hardly above a whisper.

"I didn't mean to fall. I only wanted to distract you so Rory could get away."

My brother's expression softens. "You almost killed yourself so a girl wouldn't die? What's happened to you, Alice?" He doesn't sound mad, just tired.

"Harold I'm done. I don't want to hurt people anymore. Please, just let Rory go home. I promise we'll find something else to make money."

He shakes his head and chuckles softly. "Alright. Sure." He slicks back the hair falling in his face with the rainwater and secures the gun into a holster on his belt. "The rain is making my pistol rust anyhow."

A loud shot erupts into the air and I feel myself pushed away from Rory. The smell of gunpowder is somehow more saturated in the rain. It's almost as if the the downpour is getting even heavier. I can barely see my hands in front of me.

"Rory!" I scream.

"Alice?" Rory sounds almost far away. Something is very wrong.

I kneel over, searching for her hands, but they're clasped over her stomach. Even with all the water, I can feel the hot blood pouring out. Harold is suddenly at my side, his face twisted in an unreadable expression. It doesn't matter. I grab the gun from his belt and aim.

The figure too shocked to flee is dead before they hit the ground. A woman screams and bolts into the woods.

"Steven." I hear Harold murmur. So he knew the person who shot Rory.

"Harold, she's losing a lot of blood, we need to do something." My hands trace the wound again, trying to find exactly where it is. "I think she was hit in her abdomen."

My brother sits there, unmoving. "Alice, I'm not a doctor." His voice is strange. Like he's arguing with himself.

Rory laughs weakly but it ends in a fit out coughing. "How... ironic."

I bite my lip to keep from crying. "No, not ironic. You're going to be fine."

She doesn't respond but silently takes my hand. I hold it and press it against my face. I don't what to do. But if we don't do something, she'll die. Finally, Harold sighs.

"Alice, move. I can help her."