Journey to the Unknown

by Jacqueline Francis

  He took a second and tried to listen for Clayton’s voice and when he didn’t hear it, he shouted again. “Clayton, you’re not singing!”

  He waited and only focused on Perry again when he heard Clayton’s voice again. “Help is on the way,” he told Perry reassuringly. “And then we’re gonna find her.”

  Four hours went by and the paramedics still hadn’t arrived. And now his fucking phone was broken because it said it had only been six minutes. A few more seconds ticked by and it felt like another hour. It was then that he realized his perception of time was completely distorted.

  His friends were dying around him and he couldn’t do anything to save them. Perry’s breathing became sharper and more staggered, his eyelids taking longer to open each time he blinked.

  “Tell me what we’re gonna do in Florida,” Kevin said, tightening his grip around Perry’s hand.

  Perry faintly squeezed his hand back. “We’re gonna…we’re gonna see Ariel…and…” He stopped, as if talking about it reminded him of their conversation from earlier that night and that reminded him of something else. “Where’s my girl, Kev?”

  Kevin shut his eyes, but the tears came rolling down his cheeks regardless. “I don’t know! I promise…I promise…I’m gonna find her as soon as the paramedics get here.”

  Perry’s fingers loosened around his and his shallow breathing began to slow, almost inaudible. His eyes drifted closed and Kevin tapped his cheek to wake him up again. “C’mon. Just keep your eyes open.” He didn’t open his eyes. He didn’t even stir when Kevin tapped his cheek again. “Perry—”

  He was cut off by the wailing siren of the ambulance and he exhaled a breath of relief. “They’re here, Perry. You’re gonna be fine.”

  Two vans came squealing down the road, red lights flashing in the darkness, and they stopped beside Clayton’s overturned car.

  “We’re here!” Kevin shouted when three men and one woman jumped out of the vans. He threw his hand in the air to wave them over and two men ran through the tall grass towards him.

  One man knelt down beside Perry while the other looked over at him. “Are you Kevin?”

  He nodded.

  “You said there were four of you.”

  He didn’t remember saying that on the call, but now that Perry was in safe hands, he stood up and ran with the other man to the spot where he’d left Clayton.

  Clayton was still singing incoherently as the paramedic knelt down beside him to check him. “You’re gonna be okay, Clay.”

  Kevin looked to the other side of the road where he saw a flashlight flicking across the ground as one of them searched for Shandré. He felt someone tugging his arm and that was the last thing he remembered before he was blinded by a penlight.

  “What’s your name?” a woman asked.

  Kevin looked at the unfamiliar face with confusion. His forearm was already wrapped in a white bandage and there more people on the scene—cops and more medics. He was sitting at the back of another ambulance van, but didn’t know how he got there, couldn’t account for a single moment since he’d last seen Clayton. His perception of time was still distorted because he didn’t know if it’d been ten minutes or an hour.

  “It’s Kevin,” he responded wearily. “Kevin Shepard.”

  She continued asking him basic questions to determine if he had a concussion. Words left his mouth as an automatic response, but he put no thought into what he was saying. He was tired and his throat was dry—the aftermath of shock and trauma. Behind her, he saw them load Clayton into one of the vans. Two cops appeared out of nowhere and also started firing questions at him. They kept asking him what they’d hit, what could have made the car flip like that. “I don’t know” was apparently not an adequate response, because they kept asking the same thing in different ways.

  “Was it a rock?” one of the cops asked. “A pothole? Maybe some kind of animal?”

  Kevin gritted his teeth. He was too drained to shout, but he was becoming more frustrated. “For the hundredth time…I. Don’t. Know. It could’ve been anything…It was dark. I-I don’t remember. I didn’t see—”

  He stopped talking when he spotted the other medic, his heart instantly sinking into his stomach. Perry was on gurney, but there was a black body bag around him and a man was zipping it up. That couldn’t be right. He was talking right before they arrived.

  Kevin immediately stood up and a firm hand tried to push him back down.

  “Sir, you shouldn’t be—”

  He didn’t know which one of them it was, but he shoved the hand away and headed towards the gurney, ignoring the protests behind him. His steps quickened without him even realizing it.

  “Hey, wait.” It was a frantic whisper, but he managed to find his voice through the anxiety gushing through him. “Wait!” He grabbed the man’s hand to stop him. “Wait…What…what are you doing?”

  Pitiful eyes were cast upon him. The man pulled his hand out of Kevin’s and zipped up the bag. “He’s gone.”

  “No. No…He’s not gone.”

  “He’s gone,” the paramedic’s tone was filled with compassion, but still firm enough to sound certain.

  “He’s not! He was just talking to me.”

  The paramedic slowly unzipped the top half of the bag and the stillness of his best friend was haunting. “We tried to resuscitate him,” he said softly. “But…he didn’t make it.”

  “No!” Waves of anguish and despair were crashing over him and he was drowning in it. His voice was trembling, shaking so much it didn’t sound like his own. “You can do…CPR or something…they do that…I’ve seen them do that…you can do that. He was talking…I was just with him. We’re gonna go to Florida…Please…do something…anything.”

  His eyes caught sight of another gurney carrying a black body bag, but his brain wasn’t processing anything at that moment.

  “Kevin…” The man placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “We tried everything. There’s nothing more we can do.”

  Those words broke him, utterly destroyed everything inside him. There was no panic, no helplessness. There was no fear, no desperation. There was nothing…nothing but emptiness. He gasped for air, trying to fill his body with something that felt normal, but all he felt was that emptiness. The tears were ceaseless now, running down his cheeks and dripping onto Perry’s bloodied face.

  He waited for a reaction. A person usually flinches when water hits their face, but Perry remained unmoving. Drop after drop and he didn’t move. Kevin’s hand went to Perry’s chest, his fingers curling over the dog-tag chain. Saint Christopher. The guider of the travelers. He was supposed to protect them and now Perry was lying dead in front of him.

  Kevin didn’t know how long he stood there. Fifteen years’ worth of memories flashed through his mind. Spying from the treehouse and walking to the Barber Shop. Playing with Batman figurines and torturing his sister. The casual arm around his shoulder and the attempted kisses whenever he was drunk. Vanilla ice cream and chocolate sauce. From kindergarten to college—it was all gone now.

  Another man came to stand behind him and patted him lightly on the shoulder. “It’s time.”

  Kevin shook his head. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye. “No, please…not yet. Just a few more minutes.”

  The few minutes they chose to give him felt like mere seconds. One paramedic slowly started pushing the gurney while the other placed his hand firmly on Kevin’s chest to stop him from going after it.

  “Please,” Kevin pleaded. “Don’t take him away.”

  They ignored him and carried on pushing. His fingers tightened around Perry’s chain. “No. Wait.” He tried to lunge forward but the other man kept him restrained. “Just wait!” And as the gurney moved further away, the chain snapped off Perry’s neck, the last reminder of his best friend dangling from his weak hand. “Stop! Please! Just wait!” They wouldn’t listen. “Perry!” he shouted, like if he yelled it loud enough, he would wake up. He was becoming more frantic now. It was
all too final and he’d had no time to prepare. “Get off me!” he shouted, shoving the other man to get out his grip. “Perry!” The arms around his waist tightened, but he still continued to wriggle. “Get off me! Perry! Let me go!” At this point, he didn’t know why he was still fighting, but he felt like he needed to fight. Fight the inevitable. Fight the finality. Fight for the friend who couldn’t fight anymore.

  They had already closed the doors to the van and when the paramedic finally let him go, he didn’t have the strength to stand. He collapsed, falling knees first onto the tarmac. Everything around him became a blur—the cop cars to his right, the medic standing on his left. All he saw were the red lights of the van carrying his best friend getting further and further away until it eventually faded into the darkness.

  “PERRY!”

  His desperate cries echoed through the night, but the one person it was meant for couldn’t hear it.

  November, 20

  Gallup, New Mexico

  “Perry!”

  Kevin shot up in his bed, sweating, shaking, gasping for air. It took a while before he realized he was in the motel room and not on that deserted road. He didn’t know how loud he had screamed, but it was loud enough to wake him up. His state of semi-consciousness was a confusing place to be. In that place where dreams mix with reality, he was delusional enough to believe that calling out Perry’s name could bring him back. In that place where what-ifs were confused with what is, desperation and sheer will were enough to save his friend.

  But Perry was gone. Now he only existed in that place and Kevin’s existence seemed perpetual in this world of nothing but emptiness. He wanted to escape it, escape the guilt. He hadn’t even looked for Shandré like he’d promised. He’d disrespected the dying wish of his best friend and to this day he didn’t know if she would have survived if he had gone to search for her earlier. The lives of three people had been in his hands that night and only one survived. He hadn’t known what to do, so he did nothing, not one thing to save them.

  He heard shuffling and quickly dropped his head back onto the pillow, pretending to still be asleep. Jasmin had probably heard him and he didn’t want to talk to her. She asked too many questions and a part of him wanted to answer, open up and share the load with her. Maybe then the weight wouldn’t feel so heavy. She had the ability to make him forget about his problems, his pain. Her aura was all-encompassing, so positive and reassuring that he just wanted to get sucked into it and forget. But this was his burden to carry. It wouldn’t be fair to bring her into it. She had more than enough to deal with already.

  The lamp beside his bed was switched on. He felt the mattress drop as she sat down beside him and then a gentle hand slowly brushed the hair off his forehead. He kept his eyes closed, hoping she’d think he was sleeping and go back to bed.

  “Bad dream?” she whispered.

  Her hand moved down the side of his face, caressing his cheek, making him realize just how much he wanted that contact. He’d pushed everyone away after Perry’s death, never allowing himself to feel any sort of comfort, but right now it felt so good. All he wanted was for her to wrap him up in it, just until the ache dulled.

  “I wish you’d talk to me,” she said. “I wish you’d tell me what’s hurting you so much. I can see it, you know. You’re really bad at hiding it. Maybe as we go along, you’ll learn to trust me more…but until then…sweet dreams, Kevin.”

  She leaned forward and her soft hair tickled the side of his face. A normal person would have maybe kissed his forehead or his cheek, but disrespectful Jasmin went straight for his lips. There was a slight jolt of anger at the violation, but that disappeared quite quickly. The second he registered the warmth of her mouth, the only thing he wanted to do was thread his fingers through her hair, keep her there for eternity so all he’d ever have to feel was her lips against his.

  He heard a soft moan and opened his eyes to see that he had done just that. She pulled away slightly, but the hand in her hair stopped her from moving more than a few millimeters. He should’ve let her go, but she was so close, and he wanted her closer. Close enough to dull the ache. Close enough to stop the pain. He just wanted to feel her, only her.

  His eyes locked on hers for a minute, her breaths coming out soft and uncertain, mimicking his own. He waited and when she didn’t try to move further away, he pulled her back down to him and kissed her. Long and deep, searching the depths of her mouth for the comfort he knew lay hidden there. He sucked on her tongue, trying to draw her essence into his soul so she could make him whole. His arms went around her, shifting her body until her legs were straddling his hips. She was nervous, unsure of what to expect, but she didn’t hold back. Just like with everything else, she opened up to the experience, offered herself wholeheartedly to him. And he couldn’t find the strength to say no.

  Her tongue traced seductively over his lower lip and he just lost it, got lost in it. He tossed her over on the small bed, kicking the covers off before he rolled on top of her. Everything changed at that moment. Want turned into need. Hunger turned into greed. He wanted all of her, could think of nothing else but having her. Twisting one hand in her hair, he tilted her head back so her full, ripe lips were exposed and ready for him. No one else had tasted these lips. No one else had touched this body. It was his for the taking. He wasn’t gentle about it. It was raw assault, his mouth claiming hers like he was actually worthy.

  He wasn’t.

  At some point, he didn’t know when, he found a few seconds to remove his sleepshirt. His hand crept beneath her pajama top, cupping her breast, and she arched her back to take full advantage of his touch. He spent a few more minutes ravaging her mouth before his lips went down her neck—sucking, biting, trying to fulfill insatiable need building inside him.

  He wasn’t gentle about this either.

  “Kevin,” she moaned, her shallow breaths warm against his ear.

  The sound of his name on her lips had his fingers pressing harder into her flesh. The buttons of her pajamas were quickly undone and his eyes followed every movement of his hand as he spread the material. With her top half bared to him, he took a few moments to appreciate every curve, every contour. Her smooth skin. Her supple breasts.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, dipping his head to take her nipple into his mouth.

  Her fingers gripped his hair, keeping his head in place as his tongue swirled around one swollen peak and then the other. Her responsiveness was intoxicating, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. He was getting drunk on that cocktail of inexperience mixed with eagerness. Her smell, her taste—he wanted it to consume him. He wanted to lose himself in this lust, allow outer pleasure to replace the inner pain.

  He dragged his mouth back up to hers, because he hadn’t had enough yet and pressed himself harder against her, loving the feel of her bare skin on his. His hand moved between her legs, sliding up her inner thigh before cupping her over her pajama pants. He rubbed her, feeling her dampness through the material. Moaning against his mouth, she writhed beneath him. His hands were impatient and he wanted more. Clothes were completely unnecessary. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of her pajama pants, he began to tug it down.

  “Kevin.”

  It wasn’t a moan this time. It was more of protest and he immediately stopped. He looked down at her. Her eyes were wide, her breaths heavy. Everything about her tense body language told him she was anxious and nervous. He was moving too fast. This was technically the second time she’d ever kissed a guy and he had her half-naked in a few, short minutes.

  “What am I doing?” he whispered, more to himself than to her. “Shit, Jasmin, I’m—”

  An apology seemed most appropriate, but he wasn’t sorry, just ashamed of his selfishness. She wasn’t ready and he was so busy chasing his own need, he hadn’t bothered to give it a second thought.

  He lifted off her and stood up. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “I didn’t want you—”

&nb
sp; He cut her off with a quick wave of his hand and walked into the bathroom. Shutting the door, he took a minute to breathe, trying to rid himself of all the pent-up energy coursing through him with every exhale. Heart racing. Head throbbing. He was a mess inside, riddled with so many emotions.

  He looked at himself in the mirror and shook his head. “What the hell was I thinking?”

  If she hadn’t put a stop to it, he wouldn’t have stopped. He shouldn’t have kissed her in the first place, though even with hindsight, he still couldn’t see himself saying no. She drew him in on every level, physically, emotionally, and now he couldn’t seem to get her and this edginess out of his system. The innocent anticipation in her Jasmin eyes, the pliant body that beckoned to every one of his carnal needs—there was no denying how bad he wanted her.

  He wanted to take her. Brand her with his kiss. Fuck her until she begged him to stop. Bury himself so deep inside her no other man would ever be enough.

  He gripped the side of the basin until his knuckles turned white. It was too much. He was feeling too much all at once. Lust. Guilt. Anger. And then there was this ache, the ache of losing his friend, an ache to fill the emptiness. It was safe to say he was volatile.

  Dan: Using a virgin for comfort sex. Dick move! What happened to no complications? What happened to boundaries? What happened to not fucking around with that heart? I think our viewers at home are suffering from whiplash. He’s bouncing up and down. One minute he’s trying to keep his distance, the next minute he can’t keep his hands off her.

  Bob: It’s the first time he’s felt this way about a girl. He’s confused.

  Dan: Nope. I’m calling it, Bob. With my PhD in psychology, I’ve diagnosed this kid as being clinically fucked up!

  Bob: Where did you study?

  The bathroom trapped him in a time warp and he had no idea how long he’d been in there. When he finally found the will to face her, he was a bit calmer, but no less volatile. She had re-dressed and was sitting on his bed when he came out.