by W. A. R.
“Jackson….honey…no…” Bobby-Jean cried into her hands, her fingers shaking, unsure of touching him. Katie stepped forward, swallowing thickly as she did so, and knelt where Miles had been, grabbing his wrist. She pressed her fingers against his skin, waited, and then sighed, lowering his hand gently back to the ground. Bobby-Jean had watched this, and she began sobbing into his chest uncontrollably, gripping his shirt between her fingers. “No…”
Everyone remained silent for a few minutes, sobbing uncontrollably. Miles glanced over at Buddy sadly, knowing what would have to be done. He had been bitten, and they needed to take care of him before he turned. He felt everything inside of him rage. He hated this world. Amber, Brian, and Bobby-Jean were not the only ones crying, however. They all were. Jackson was a part of them, their moral conscience and now he was gone. He was like a father to them all and they would no longer have that.
“Where’s Damien?” Amber asked suddenly and Brian jerked his eyes to her. Her red hands still rested on their father’s face and Brian was unsure of whether she was worried or angry. Everyone looked around; searching for the missing face but no one went to look for him immediately. No one could. After a long moment Buddy stood and began searching for any other signs of a struggle, any signs that would lead him to where the man was. Derek and George began helping as well. Other than them, everything remained silent.
Brian turned and began kicking at the dead body of the Biter. He was angry and unable to handle his emotions. Kyle kept is face turned towards Cassie’s chest, and Jacob wrapped a comforting arm around her, shielding her from the sight as well. Katie was pale and the tears that streaked across her face only made her skin appear more sallow. She watched Miles as he closed his eyes tightly shut, forcing the pain away. Elva Jo was torn between staying where she was and comforting Bobby-Jean. Brian finally stopped and leaned his forehead against a tree, crying silently to himself.
Amber, Bobby-Jean, and Brian had all remained still, mourning their loss, when Damien stumbled back into the clearing, dazed and covered with rich dark blood. He visibly swallowed at the sight in front of him. Brian immediately stood and lunged at him, grabbing his shirt and throwing him as hard as he could into a tree. Damien’s head and shoulder hit the tree with a loud thud, and he fell to the ground as Miles, George, and Buddy jumped into action. Yells came from all of the men as they struggled forward. Brian straddled the man and sent his fists down as hard as he could, unlimited pain and fury overwhelming his usually docile features. Damien attempted to defend himself but it was useless. Brian was a force to be reckoned with. He was hurting.
“Where were you?” he screamed at Damien, hitting him again, Damien’s head snapping to the right. Miles and Buddy each grabbed one of Brian’s arms and struggled to pull him off of Damien, George shoving him back from the front.
“Brian!” George exclaimed “Take it easy!” With incredible strength he jerked from their grasp and shoved George out of the way, aiming for Damien who was on his hands and knees coughing and spitting out blood. Brian jerked him back and gripped his shirt, hitting him again with everything he had. The audible sounds of bones crunching made Katie grimace.
“Where in the fuck were you!” he exclaimed as they pulled him off of Damien once more, Derek dragging Damien away. Brian struggled against them, but they held him still. “You were supposed to be with him! You could have saved him!” his voice cracked on this last bit, and didn’t go unnoticed.
“I chased a fucking rabbit!” Damien slurred out through swelling gums, trying to regain his footing with Derek’s help. “And I ran into a bunch of Biters.” He lowered his voice, motioning to his appearance. “I tried to get here as soon as I could.” He swallowed thickly, glancing sadly down at Jackson’s lifeless body. When Brian finally calmed down, they released him and turned slowly to Bobby-Jean and Amber, who had not moved from his body. Miles felt his heart break and again he glanced at Buddy, then at Derek who understood as well what needed to be done. Jackson’s hand moved slightly, just a small twitch, but it alerted Miles to the fact that it was time.
Miles knelt down to their level. “Amber…Bobby-Jean…I need you to move…” he said softly, yet sternly. Bobby-Jean lifted her cold, red-rimmed eyes to his and narrowed them to slits.
“Over my dead body.” She said cruelly and full of determination.
“Don’t do this…” Miles began and she quickly reached forward and shoved him back.
“I said no.” she growled at him as he regained his balance. Miles glanced over his shoulder at Brian, who shook his head angrily.
“Mom, get up.” He told her firmly, and she shook her head, her eyes refilling with tears. Brian glanced sadly at Derek before turning away into the woods. He couldn’t bear witness to it.
“No, I can’t…” she began but Derek reached forward and jerked her back, holding her tightly as she began to fight. “No! Let me go!” She kicked and screamed with everything she had. Zeus began growling at the scene and George stepped around to shush him. Miles then turned to Amber, who refused to look at him.
“Amber?” he asked her as Bobby-Jean cursed, flailing against Derek’s hold on her.
She didn’t move, and didn’t answer. Her eyes were closed as her forehead rested against what was her father’s. Miles saw Jackson’s lips twitch beside her ear. Miles glanced up at Buddy who quickly stepped forward, reaching for her when her eyes snapped open. Miles was taken aback by the unadulterated anger in their depths. Her eyes were like fire, and just looking at them burned him.
“Don’t fucking touch me.” She said lowly to Buddy before leaning back on her knees. Buddy stopped his advancements as she stood, rising to her full height. Her eyes skimmed the group as Miles stood, retrieving one of his two pistols from his holster. He checked the chamber, and watched as her eyes settled on Damien. Damien glanced up to see her glare and his eyes widened in surprise at the anger that resided there. Miles sighed, rubbing a hand across his face and effectively wiping away the tears that were swimming in his eyes. Aiming the pistol at his head, he saw Bobby-Jean freeze, watching everything he was doing. Brian refused to look from the wood line and Shelly attempted to comfort him.
He sighed sadly once more. “I’m sorry, Jackson.” He said softly to himself before he clicked back the hammer; and with Jackson’s right hand moving and eyes slowly opening, Miles pulled the trigger.
Brian, Miles, George, and Buddy carried Jackson’s body back to the house slowly as everyone else followed with the exception of Derek and Damien, who had gone to gather the food that was left in the woods. It was like a small funeral procession as they made their way back to the house. Cassie and Kyle clung to Amber and Elliot to Bobby Jean as Jacob grabbed the keys from Brian and unlocked the gate, allowing them to enter before he closed and locked it back. No one uttered a word; no one dared to. Damien knew it was better for him to stay behind and grab the animals rather than assist with the burial. There was so much anger revolving around him then that people were sure that Brian, at least, would have killed him if he got his hands on him again. They rounded the house, heading towards the front right corner, wishing to place the man that had changed all of their lives under the very tree that Amber climbed up and reflected on. The lost members of the other group were buried underneath the tree beside hers, and though Jackson could very well rest next to them and their crosses, Amber wouldn’t allow it. He was her father and he deserved to rest under her place of peace because that was all that he ever brought her. Amber pulled away from Kyle and Cassie, aiming for the shovel that leaned against a wall in the garage. No one stopped her as she disappeared, steeling one last glance at the four men carrying her father’s body like pall bearers without the casket.
After grabbing two shovels that were in the garage whenever they arrived at that house, she made her way to where they were laying his body on the ground, gently, as if he could still feel them. They had personally had no use of those two shovels since day one, not like the others had, and yet
that day, they were going to put them to work. Brian’s face was a stoic mask, and she knew hers was just as expressionless; it was a stark contrast to their mother’s pain filled features. She neared them all, reaching out with one hand offering a shovel for Brian. He took it, swallowing thickly as he did, and Amber rounded the body, stepping between George and Buddy. No one said a word to her in the morning light, and she didn’t care. Her mind was blank, her thoughts hiding themselves because rationality was out of the window. She was angry, she was hurt, and above all she was helpless. The feeling of helplessness watching her father die was gnawing away at her and countless memories continued to float through her mind. That was all that she allowed herself. Brian looked at her with understanding before shoving the blade of the shovel into the soft ground, uprooting the dirt and grass and tossing it aside. Amber followed suit, and before long she was lost in her world. Dig…dig it deep…dig the hole to bury your father in…just dig, she kept telling herself. Sweat beaded on her brow, on the back of her neck before rolling across her back and sticking to her shirt. Brian shared her burden and they dug, afraid of looking at one another or at the motionless corpse on the ground beside them.
An hour, maybe two, passed by when Amber glanced up. The sun had been beating down on her and her face was red from the heat. She didn’t look up of her own free will; instead there was a hand on her shoulder, calling her to attention. She turned her eyes up to see Miles. They had been digging for a while, and the hole had gotten pretty deep, as they had been working tediously. Miles knelt down, offering her sympathetic eyes. He stared at her and her eyes flashed at him. He wasn’t surprised, to say the least. Everyone else had gone, sitting on the porch and watching as Amber and Brian worked. She saw that Derek and Damien were back to the house, sitting on the porch glumly with the others, while Buddy was making tracks to where Brian stood in the hole. Again, she looked at Miles before turning her back to him and beginning to dig again.
“Amber…Brian…” Miles began softly, causing both Brian and Amber to glance up at both he and Buddy. Their stances told them that they were determined, expecting a response but Amber merely sneered in anger. When Brian did not answer either, Miles sighed. “Let us finish. You two need a break.” He told them, and Brian’s grip on the wooden handle tightened.
“No.” he said simply before turning and uprooting a lump of dirt and tossing it up and over the side. Buddy knelt down as well, eyeing the siblings in the hole.
“Look at your hands. They are cracked and bleeding. You need to stop.” He said, and Amber felt Brian’s eyes on her as she glanced down at her hands. Yes, they hurt, but she had not even noticed the pain, the dried blood in her palm or on the handle of her shovel. She didn’t even notice the big blisters that had formed and popped on her skin. Staring at her hands and arms, she couldn’t tell the difference between her blood and her father’s. It was fitting, she thought, given the circumstances. Glancing at Brian, she saw that his hands held the same scars. He removed one hand from the handle and stared at it, his hands shaking.
“We will stop when it is finished.” Amber said, her throat dry and cracked. She didn’t care. She only wanted to work. She couldn’t sit on the sidelines and watch as someone else put her father in the ground.
“Listen…”Miles began softly before Amber snapped her gaze to meet his. He was taken aback by the intense fire raging in her ice blue depths. She gripped her shovel tighter as Brian watched her, listening to every word.
“No, you listen.” She snapped, her voice crisp and tense from lack of use. Miles widened his eyes at her heavy bitterness, and yet, she couldn’t seem to stop herself. She understood he was only trying to help, but this was her father, her burden. “You don’t understand.” She declared, dropping her shovel and pushing herself out of the hole. Her arms shook with the effort, and her hands ached, her shoulders were tense, but still she didn’t care. Her only goal was to put her father to peace…something she hadn’t been able to do for others. Miles stood watching her, resisting the urge to help her climb out. He knew that if he were to touch her she would snap, or even worse break…if that were at all possible. She rose to her feet and stared at him ruefully, her chest heaving with every heavy breath she took.
“What don’t I understand Amber? You act as if I have never lost someone close to me before.” He said, and although he meant it to be a comfort, the words came out accusingly. She narrowed her eyes at him. She wasn’t angry…not really, and not at him. But he was the first one to reach out, and so she lashed at him.
“You think that is what this is about?” she asked him, astonished and he visibly grimaced. He was usually so good at reading her, knowing her, that it felt like a slap that he was wrong.
“If it isn’t, then tell me what it is about. I only want to help you.” He told her and for a moment he saw the hardness that was in her eyes soften. She turned and glanced at Brian, who stood silently watching what was playing out before him. He was hurting, and he knew that Amber was too. He knew that it was more than just losing their father and he wondered if she intended on telling Miles that. She turned back to Miles slowly, glancing at her bleeding hands before speaking.
“For months, Brian and I had to do the inevitable. We have had to kill two grandmothers, three uncles, two aunts, four cousins, and countless friends by putting bullets through their fucking heads. Some were still alive, others had turned…but it doesn’t make a difference. We will always remember who they were when we did it.” She told him hotly and he took a step back, feeling invasive and helpless. The fact that she had kept such a count felt like a knife cutting him deep and he knew then that every encounter haunted her. “And every single time we had to leave them there to rot. We couldn’t stay and bury them, we didn’t even have the time to carry them away with us and bury them here. Whatever is left of them is still out there rotting and this once, just this once, we are able to put someone to peace, and that person just so happens to be our father. We have lost the man that raised us, taught us, and we are given the opportunity to give him some semblance of the respect he deserves.” She told him, stepping forward. Her eyes turned up to his and he sighed, wanting nothing more than to pull her away from the horrors of life. “Thank you for wanting to help, really, and for what you did back in the woods, but leave us alone to put his body in the ground where it rightfully should be.” She declared, turning back to the hole and jumping in. Within seconds she had the shovel and she and Brian were again digging dirt and tossing them to the side. Miles stood for a moment, watching them as Buddy walked around to stand beside him. Together they watched as two of their own grieved and accepted the loss in their own way.
After a few moments of silence, the pair turned and ambled back towards the house. If Miles were honest, in all of their time, he had never seen her so hardened and it worried him. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one affected by it.
“Some of the nicest people are the scariest whenever they are pissed.” Buddy spoke his thoughts, shoving his hands deep down into his pockets. Miles glanced at him through narrow eyes.
“They aren’t pissed, and they aren’t scary.” He informed him and Buddy gave him a sad smile, glancing back at the two of them where they stood before turning back to Miles.
“Not yet, they aren’t. But mark my words, one day they will be pushed past their limits and when that day comes, I am not going to want to be on the receiving end of it.”
Amber stood over the sink, slowly pouring warm water across her hands. Night had come and they had covered her father in sheets and dirt, shoving a makeshift cross where his head would be. Brian had settled in for the night, sitting on the porch in silence, Shelly beside him. Amber had come in, walked with her children to their beds and cried with them for a while. They understood, they swore they did, but it didn’t make the pain any less harsh. They were angry…they were furious. She comforted them, lying in bed beside Kyle as he snuggled against her and cried himself to sleep. Once certain that he was asleep, she
had climbed out of his bed and into Cassie’s, wanting simply to hold each of her children and tell them how very precious they were to her. She then turned to little Elliot who watched silently from his space in the only other bed in the room and she went to him. After a sufficient amount of time, Jacob had come in, telling her with sad eyes that he would watch over them. She sighed, glancing at her hands. Yes, she needed to clean herself up and so she went into the kitchen to clean her wounds. Her mother was out there then, in the night, with George and Buddy overseeing the perimeter and her safety. Once the dirt had been placed over him, she had gone out there and eased to her knees, staring at the mound where her husband rested underneath. Amber shook her head at the thoughts. She glanced at the tiny bottle of unscented soap that rested on the counter and went to reach for it when a hand snapped forward from the darkness beside her. An orange glow then filled the kitchen and she turned to see Miles and Katie. Katie held the candle and began searching for the first aid kit. Miles, however, held the soap bottle, urging her to open her palms. After a moment of scrutiny, she obliged and he wordlessly took her hands in his, squeezing some soap into her palm. She winced as the soap stung and he offered her an apologetic smile.
“What are you doing?” she asked incredulously as he began massaging the soap into her palms, across her knuckles, mixing some of the warm water she had held in a jar with it.
“You’re hurt and I am helping you. So be quiet and accept it.” He told her, leaving no room for arguing as he continued with his task. She swallowed, remembering all of the things she had told him previously.
“Why are you doing this after how I talked to you…” she began but he quickly pressed a wet finger to her lips, his eyes urging her to stop. It hurt. It hurt so badly.