by James Hunt
“Nelson up?” Mike asked.
“Yeah, he’s outside. You think Sam was able to fix the Jeep?”
“We’ll find out soon enough.”
This new bond the two of them shared was one he wished had never formed. Both of them were veterans of bloody conflicts. Each of them had inflicted pain, and they had received it in kind.
Nelson looked half asleep when they walked outside, but he was standing. The three of them headed down the dirt path that would take them to the highway. Once they were on the road they’d follow it to the small town of Carrollton.
None of them made any unnecessary trips there over the past week. It was a place consumed with death. The biker gang responsible for his daughter’s injuries was the same group that laid waste to everyone in the town that they came into contact with.
The grass fields that surrounded the town were filled with the people that used to live inside it. The bodies were too burned and charred to be identified by any records, so an unmarked stone was placed for each body. The stones formed a circle around the mass grave Mike and his group had dug.
The casualties of the gang’s violence were made personal when they killed Mike’s father, Ulysses, and two other members of his group. Ulysses sacrificed himself to save Mike and Kalen.
When they were digging the graves Ulysses’ body wasn’t placed with the townspeople. Mike dug his father his own grave along with four others. Two were for the mother and father of three girls that Ulysses had saved from the brutality of the biker’s violence, one was for Tom, and the other was for Jung’s wife.
Mike hadn’t visited the grave since he put his father in the ground. He didn’t need to. He saw his father every time he fell asleep. In his nightmares he relieved the pain of watching his dad put a gun to his own head and squeeze the trigger.
Kalen was up front taking point, gun at the ready. Mike noticed that she still hadn’t let her guard down. She always had a firearm within arm’s reach, even when she was at the cabin.
Despite all of the pain Kalen went through, a part of Mike was glad she experienced it. She was sharper, more aware of everything she did.
That’s how you had to be now. In a split second, everything could change and your life, or the lives of the people you love, could be over.
Nelson hadn’t said much since the events. Out of the whole group, his family suffered the least. Mike figured Nelson felt guilty about it. His wife had been kept safe by Sam, who was her security escort for her vice president’s position at the engineering firm she worked at, and Mike had managed to keep Nelson and his son safe on their travels from Pittsburgh to the cabin.
“How are you holding up?” Mike asked.
“I should be asking you that,” Nelson said.
“Everything seems to be healing all right.”
“What about Kalen? How’s she doing?”
“As good as she can be.”
“Mike, I don’t know if this is a good time to bring it up, but when we get into town you know that Sam’s not the only person that’s going to be there, right?”
“I know.”
“We all know what Jung did was terrible, and we’re with you on your decision, but if you jus—”
“I’m not changing my mind. And I shouldn’t have to remind you that he didn’t just put my family in danger, Nelson, he put yours as well. He let desperation and fear guide his choices, and I don’t want that anywhere near my family. I wouldn’t think you would either.”
“What about Fay?”
Mike paused. He didn’t agree with Fay staying with Jung. She was a valuable member of their group. He didn’t want to lose her, but he wasn’t going to budge on their disagreement with Jung’s fate.
“It’s her decision. She’s still welcome to come with us, but I won’t allow her to bring Jung,” Mike said. “It’s not up for discussion.”
Mike continued down the path, catching up to Kalen, who’d stopped to wait for them. Nelson was quiet the rest of the way down.
***
Sam dropped the wrench to the ground and it clanged against the concrete. The barrage of bullets that flew into the engine damaged the battery and the coolant tank of the Jeep. The tank was easy enough to repair, and luckily the mechanic’s garage in town had some spare batteries.
After a few other adjustments with getting new tires and knocking out the cracked, bullet-ridden windshield, the Jeep was as good as it was going to get. The only test now was to see if it’d run.
It had been a lot of trial and error over the past week, trying to figure out which parts were working and which weren’t. Sam grabbed the keys, hopped into the driver’s seat, and put the key in the ignition. He waited a few moments before finally turning the engine over.
The Jeep cranked to life and Sam leaned back and smiled. He threw the shifter in reverse to take it for a spin.
Sam pulled onto the road and shifted the Jeep into second gear. The clutch was a little touchy, but everything seemed to be working fine. He did a few laps up and down Main Street.
The sound of the engine caused Fay to come out of her motel room. Sam gave her a wave when he saw her and she threw her hands up in the air and started clapping. Sam parked in one of the motel’s spaces and she came out to greet him.
“Feel like going for a ride?” Sam asked.
“Only if you can take me to a place with a shower.”
“I hear Cincinnati is nice this time of year.”
Fay’s smile faded.
“You haven’t talked to Mike about it, have you?” Sam said.
“He hasn’t been in the talking mood lately.”
“Well, he’s on his way down this morning. You’ll get your chance.”
“Yeah.”
Sam patted the seat and Fay’s smile came back. She hopped up in the passenger’s side and Sam tore off.
The two of them rode through the fields. Sam spun the tires and did a few donuts. Fay screamed and held on tight to the roll bar as the dirt and dust flew up around them. Sam finally brought the Jeep to a stop and the two of them started to laugh.
“I think she’ll run just fine,” Sam said.
When Sam came back into town from the fields he could see Mike, Nelson, and Kalen walking down Main Street toward the garage. Nelson and Kalen spun around and sprinted toward him when they heard the Jeep’s engine.
“You got it running!” Nelson shouted.
“You say that like it’s a surprise,” Sam said.
“Good work, Sam,” Mike said. “How’s the fuel situation looking?”
“We should be okay. The garage had enough fuel left in spare tanks to fill up the bikes and the Jeep.”
“We should be able to fit the girls in the Jeep along with Sean and Freddy. The rest of us will have to ride the bikes. Nelson, I suggest you start practicing now.”
“Right,” Nelson said.
“C’mon, I’ll give you a few pointers,” Sam said.
Nelson and Sam headed off to one of the old Harleys at the end of the row. Kalen followed.
“Where are you going?” Mike asked.
“If I ride there’ll be more room for supplies in the Jeep,” Kalen said.
Mike and Fay were left alone.
“How are you healing up?” Fay asked.
“I’m good.”
Mike answered quickly. His tone came out harsher than he intended it to be. He knew Fay’s heart was in the right place staying with Jung, but that wasn’t going to change what happened.
“You should come with us,” Mike said.
“What about Jung?”
“What about him?”
“He’s not doing very well.”
“He’s not my responsibility.”
“The man I met at the airport wouldn’t have thought that. If he had the ability to save someone, he did.”
“I don’t want that anymore.”
Mike joined Sam, Nelson, and Kalen by the Harleys, leaving Fay alone.
***
The
shades were barely cracked, letting in a few rays of light. Jung sat on the edge of the bed, staring into the corner. His kids were still asleep.
He liked it when they slept. He didn’t have to think about them, or worry about them needing anything. They were so still. A part of him wished they could sleep forever. He didn’t want them to see the world they lived in anymore.
Jung reached into his pocket, pulling out his prayer beads. He rolled them between his fingertips, feeling the smooth wood on his skin. He wasn’t sure why he still had them. Whatever God he prayed to stopped listening.
He shoved the beads back into his pocket and paced the room. He was always restless. He hadn’t slept or eaten anything in days; that need had vanished. The only thing he wanted to do now was waste away. He wanted to drift off as his children did every night, but he never wanted to wake up.
Those terrifying moments when he did drift off to sleep, he would be holding his wife’s lifeless body in his hands, begging for her to come back.
There was no escaping what happened. It haunted him while he dreamed, and it tortured him while he was awake.
Jung bent down slowly, picking up a nearly empty bottle of liquor. That was the one thing he couldn’t get enough of. Whatever he could do to numb himself he indulged in.
He did have some pills he managed to steal from the pharmacy, but Fay found them and tossed them down the drain. She’d come by every day to check on him and the kids.
The thought of someone else taking care of his children used to be such a ludicrous idea, but now he was glad someone was there to make sure his children were safe, although he wasn’t sure how much longer that was going to last.
He knew that Mike and the rest of the group were planning to head to Cincinnati soon. A week ago he would have been going with them, but not now.
Jung thought back to their first meeting at the airport. He remembered the talks the two of them had about family, and keeping faith.
Mike didn’t have to help him, but he did. Mike opened up his home, his supplies, and his protection to Jung’s family and he repaid Mike by spitting in his face.
The need to protect his own family blinded him to everything else. The moment he tied Mike’s family up at gunpoint, along with the rest of the group, leaving them to die at the hands of the bikers, was the point of no return.
There wasn’t a doubt in Jung’s mind that Mike wanted to kill him. He wasn’t sure what was stopping him, but he wished Mike would come and finish the job. Maybe that was his punishment though, a fate worse than death: to live with the guilt and shame of losing his faith.
The sound of the Jeep’s engine outside snapped him out of the stupor. He kept the bottle of liquor in his hand as he walked to the window. He pulled back the curtain slightly and peeked down into the motel’s parking lot. He could see Sam, Nelson, and Kalen by the bikes. Fay and Mike were talking by the Jeep.
If the Jeep was working they’d be leaving any day now. He drew the curtain back and set the liquor bottle on the carpet.
***
The grave marker rose from the earth like a lump, nestled between two trees. The branches provided good shade. Billy and his family decided to lay Ken to rest here, next to his hunting spot, where he started his day every morning.
Billy had visited the grave every day since his father was buried. He never set out to start his morning hunts here, but each time he began walking into the forest his feet led him there with a mind of their own.
His mother and younger brother still hadn’t forgiven him for what he did. Every time he tried to explain himself he would be greeted with the same disgusted look. He just stopped trying after a few days.
He couldn’t force them to listen to him. Deep down he knew they knew what kind of man his father was. If Billy hadn’t done something to stop him, more people would have been hurt.
The sound of a gunshot would wake him each night. It was never real, but he couldn’t stop the dreams from coming. Each time he closed his eyes, and laid his head to rest, he would see the bullet he fired from his own gun flying through his father’s chest.
The dreams never ended with his father dying though. Screams of betrayal and hate flew from the mouths of his mother and brother. Then he would wake up with a cold sweat covering his body, shaking.
Billy wasn’t sure how long the nightmares would last. Maybe it was something that would always be there, hanging over his head.
The rest of the morning was spent hunting game. He enjoyed being out in the woods now, more than he did before his father died. Whenever he went hunting with his dad it felt malicious, void of anything good.
Now, he felt a purpose to it. The skills he learned were put into practice to provide food for his family. He no longer felt the pang of guilt every time he sent a bullet through a bird, squirrel, or deer.
After nabbing two turkeys, Billy called it a day. He was on his way back to the farm when he bumped into Joey, who had a string of squirrels and rabbits on his belt.
Joey hadn’t said a word to him since they buried their father. In fact, the two had barely seen each other. Neither of them wanted to discuss what their minds were begging to say.
“Nice haul,” Billy said.
Joey had his gun over his shoulder. He said nothing. He brushed past Billy and kept walking.
That’s how their relationship was now. Whatever brotherly bonds the two of them had had ended with their father’s last breaths.
“Hey, we need to talk,” Billy said.
“No, we don’t.”
Billy grabbed Joey’s shoulder and spun him around.
“Yes, we do,” Billy said.
“What’s there to talk about? You want to tell me what it was like to kill Dad? You want me to forgive you? I’ll never forgive you. I hate you. I HATE YOU!”
Joey squirmed free from Billy’s grip and ran. Joey wove in and out of the trees until Billy couldn’t see him anymore.
The last bit of hope started to dissipate out of him. His brother wasn’t going to forgive him. That hate would burn in him for a long time. The only thing Billy wasn’t sure of was if he’d still be alive when his brother’s hate finally burned out.
***
The front door was open when Billy made it back to the farm and the house was empty. He walked out back and could see his mother coming from the barn with the pelts from the rabbits and squirrels Joey brought back.
Beth’s hands and apron were bloody. She looked older than she did before, rougher. The small hunch she had seemed more prominent. It was as if she was retreating within herself.
“Joey still back there?” Billy asked.
His mom didn’t answer. She didn’t even look at him. A few minutes later Joey appeared, heading in his direction with the meat from his game, following their mother’s example in silence.
Billy spent the next hour cleaning the turkeys. When he walked back into the kitchen his mother was canning the squirrel meat. He dropped the cuts on the counter. Beth picked them up and threw them in the garbage.
“Hey!” Billy said.
Beth slammed the knife into the counter. The force of the blow caused Billy to pause before reaching for the meat.
“It’s a waste if we don’t eat it,” Billy said.
“We don’t eat anything you bring in this house,” Beth said.
Billy stood frozen, half bent reaching for the turkey in the trash, half watching the knife gripped tightly in his mother’s hand. Her tone was low. It wasn’t a statement. It was a threat.
“Mom, I—”
“Don’t.”
There wasn’t anything he could say, or do, to get his family back. The trust was broken.
“I’m sorry,” Billy said.
Billy left his mother in the kitchen and walked upstairs to his room. He passed his brother’s room and the door was cracked. Quiet sobs escaped through the sliver of an opening and Billy stopped. He leaned in close to listen and peer inside.
Joey was on the edge of his bed, his fac
e in his hands. He looked up when Billy entered, his face red.
“Get out!” Joey screamed.