Code of Honor

The shot from my gun echoed loudly around me making my ears ring almost painfully. My vision blurred around the edges but I still could clearly see the man, clutch at his chest and topple over forwards into the dirt. I was rooted to the spot. Unable to believe what I’d just done. I dropped the gun into the dirt at my feet and wrapped my arms around myself. Staring at the crumbled body only feet away from me. Knowing I’d been the one to suck the life out of it. Everything seemed to take a dream-like effect after that.

I heard my father’s footsteps coming towards me but I couldn’t look up at him. Even when he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me to my feet and begging to know if I was alright. He was staring straight through me; I couldn’t get a focus on him. His arms were the only thing holding me upright. I stammered and stumbled, trying to tell him what had happened. That I’d had no choice. That someone was going to kill him. But I couldn’t seem to form a coherent sentence.

Around me I heard more voices, surrounding me, drowning me. I couldn’t understand a thing they were saying. Everything seemed to be directed straight at me, I pulled back to hide in the depths of my father’s chest. Trying to escape the prying noises. My father’s arm wrapped tighter around me and when he spoke his was the only voice to make sense.

“Michael, get that body hidden.” I whimpered. “Jamison help me with her.” This time it was his voice that shook.

I felt my feet leave the ground, only felt more secure in my father’s hold. I closed my eyes tight and hid in the depths of his chest. Except even in his arms I didn’t feel safe anymore. I felt us descend the stairs quickly and the air around me become stale again. Then the voices were back. Demanding and loud. I tried my hardest to block them out. But just as quickly as they came they were gone again and we were isolated in one of the back rooms of the hideout.

My father sat me down gently, as if I’d break if he held me to tight. Jamison was shadowing him, his eyes firmly on me, prying. I sniffled, lowering my head so I didn’t have to look at them. I didn’t want to. Not after what I’d just done. For as long as I could remember my father had told me that turning a gun on another human being was a horrible thing. Solving a problem with a gun was weak, he always told us. But I had not felt I’d had a choice. My dad’s life was in danger, surely that meant something.

“Grace,” dad said gently, trying hard to catch my eyes. I averted him every time. “Grace, look at me. What’s wrong with her? Why is she shaking so badly?” for the first time in a long time my father sounded vulnerable.

“She’s in shock,” I heard Jamison reply.

It wasn’t until I felt something heavy draped over my shoulders that I realized how cold I was. I gripped the edges with my stiff fingers, and held the blanket tight around myself. I jumped, startled, as my father’s hand carefully reached for my face and forced me to meet his eyes. He looked as sacred and desperate as I felt. Suddenly I couldn’t help it. I started sobbing, hard. His arms wrapped around me in an instant. Pulling me into his chest and into his comforting musk. One of my cold hands let go of the blanket to grip onto the front of his shirt as I cried.

“What happened?” Jamison asked, I felt his cold fingers on my wrist.

“I have no idea,” Dad breathed. “There was a gunshot, then she was there and…I don’t know, she just looked so…broken.” His voice shook. “I couldn’t get an ounce of sense out of her.”

Jamison put together what my father had not. Dad was too concerned with my well-being to think about anything else.

“Was she the one who shot?”

“Must have been,” Dad whispered. “It wasn’t us.”

Suddenly I felt like I had to explain myself again. I didn’t want them to come to the wrong conclusion before I had the chance to defend my actions. They had to understand I had no choice. I did not want to pull the trigger, I had to. But again, all I could get out was mumbled confusion. My father stroked my back carefully trying hard to make some sense of my rambling. Eventually, he told me to stop, I was choking on my words and sobs. I continued to hiccup into his shirt.

“I get it,” He whispered. “I understand.”

The fact that he understood did not make me feel any better. No matter the reasoning behind it I’d still taken another life. He didn’t even now I was there. He had no chance to defend himself against me. I could convince myself that he was a soldier and ultimately, depending on how you looked at it, was a bad person. But I didn’t know this for sure. Riley was a soldier and he was still a decent person. I really had no idea who I’d just killed. I’d just become one of them.

“Is she alright...What happened?”

The new voice startled me, again, making my father’s arm wrap tighter around me. Holding me in place.

“She’s not coping with what happened,” Jamison whispered to Michael. “He was about to kill you and Cameron…Grace…intervened.”

“Poor kid.”

“What do I do?” Dad asked desperately. His attention only for me.

“There’s not much we can do” Jamison sighed quietly. “Give her time.”

Unsure of himself, my father got up to sit beside me. Leaning against the wall he pulled me back so I was lying against him. My heavy eyelids instantly fell shut. However, I did not just see the backs of my eyelids. I could perfectly picture the way the man had fallen over forwards. Clutching at his chest, pain spreading over the feature of his face. Which for the first time I could see with precision.

My eyes shot open once again. I rubbed uselessly at my eyes desperately trying to erase the image from my head. It didn’t work. Eyes open or closed, it was all I could see. The desperation of my situation brought more tears to my eyes. I was exhausted all of a sudden, I just wanted to sleep and forget. But I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing every little detail so clearly. My eyelids were incredibly heavy, I couldn’t keep them open.

“Grace?” Dad asked, almost fearfully.

“Let her sleep Cameron,” Jamison whispered.

I didn’t hear anything else after that. I don’t know if my brain just shut down, or if they stopped talking. Maybe it was both. Forcibly, I made my mind think of something else. I counted sheep. I thought of home and my family, things that usually depressed me, but right now I was low as I could go and those distant memories provided me with a reason to hang on. I could pull strength from just the memory of my mother’s eyes, looking at me with pride. I couldn’t be afraid anymore, my mind shut down completely.

~ ~ ~

The next two days, I did nothing more than drift in and out of a restless sleep. Sometimes dreaming, mostly nightmares that seemed to suck all the energy and hope out of me. I woke up just as exhausted as I was before. The nightmares started to become an endless loop of fear and hopelessness, until I was terrified, almost on the verge of panic. I’d wake up suddenly, desperate for safety. I wanted to get up and run for my dad or at least the company of another waking person. Then I’d remember the blood on my hands, and realize I didn’t deserve the comfort of another person. Not after what I’d done.
I’d spent all my time, alone, in the back room. I didn’t want to look at other people, or have them look at me. Knowing what I’d done. They were innocent, I was a killer, and I wouldn’t infect them.

Jamison and my father were the only two who made frequent visits in my waking hours. My father, providing what little comfort he could and food. Trying to make me eat. He always brought something different in the hope I’d change my mind and have something to eat. It had been over two days since my last meal, even that had been questionable. He continued to beg me to snap out of it, to come back, but I couldn’t. Jamison’s visits were more, medically inclined. At first I had been thankful for the professional relationship he’d conducted, checking me over but not trying to tell me what I’d down was right. Nevertheless it didn’t take long before he started talking.

Trying to pull me out of the hole I’d buried myself in. He kept telling me that I’d done what I had to do and that the guilt would fade, once I forgave myself for what happened. Forgiveness was the last thing on my mind. I didn’t deserve that, not at all. I killed another human being. He had a life, a family, friends and I’d taken that all away and left him rotting in a hole somewhere. No, I couldn’t forgive myself. We’d always held our heads high because we had turned our backs on such meaningless violence. Now I didn’t even want to show mine outside this room.

“Gracie?”

My back stiffened. The voice was so familiar, but so different at the same time. It was still the same person but I was hearing them differently. I could deal with my father, and Jamison to an extent, but I didn’t want anyone else in here, around me. Especially not Dimitri.

“Grace,” He whispered. Scared of waking me. “Are you awake?”

The only sign he got was the movement of my blankets as I curled into them, trying to hide from him. He got his answer pretty quickly. His footsteps echoed closer, slowly. I closed my eyes and begged for him to leave. Instead he sat on the bed beside me, I felt the mattress shift down under his weight. A sweet scent followed.

“I brought you something to eat,” He said carefully. He sounded unsure of himself. A first for Dimitri. “Lizzy made up some bread on the fire.”

I guessed they were putting the new traded supplies to use. We’d managed to get some flour from the trader. Only a small supply but enough for our purposes. The sweet smell of the bread was tempting on my empty stomach but I still didn’t feel like eating. Facing him was even less appealing. I just wanted to be left alone and mope, Dimitri had always had trouble leaving me alone.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” He said suddenly. The last thing I wanted to hear. “He was going to kill Cam and Michael, you did what you had to.”

For a moment I considered the theory they were all practicing what to say to me. Everyone seemed to have the same argument. When I didn’t reply or make any indication I was listening. He went on.

“Think about the positive side,” He said. “You saved two lives.” He put emphasis on the two.

My voice cracked when I spoke. “And that makes it okay?”

He didn’t reply. I didn’t believe that. Not for a second. But for a single moment I faltered in my thoughts. Either way I was going to have blood on my hands. If I didn’t defend them, I would have two lives on my conscious not just one. I grunted, pulling the blanket harder around myself until it felt constricting.

I didn’t need him confusing me anymore, I was fine and settled in my self-loathing. I didn’t want reason thrown at me right now. I hoped he’d take the hint that I wanted to be left alone, but he continued to sit there and watch my back. Waiting for me to react to him. I refused to. It wasn’t until Jamison interfered that he took the hint.

“Dimitri,” He whispered gently. “I think she just wants to be left alone.”

Without a word Dimitri got to his feet. I listened to his heavy footsteps walk away, stop halfway, then turn and come back. I resisted the urge to look back.

“I’ll leave this here,” He said. I could only assume he meant the bread.

And with that he finally left the room, and I felt like I was going to cry again. I expected Jamison to come over and start prying again. Instead he only stayed long enough to say one thing to me.

“You can’t punish yourself forever Grace.”

A small part of me tried hard not to take his comment as a personal challenge. I think he was underestimating me. I listened hard to make sure he had walked away before I allowed myself to sit up. The blood rushed to my head, making my head spin. I hadn’t been this upright in days.

I squinted my eyes closed and waited for the room to settle, along with my stomach. My thoughts continued to spin. I was as confused as ever, with no idea where to turn. Trying hard to ignore the noise in my head, I reached for the bread Dimitri and left behind for me. I was a little hungry and the thought of doing something else was appealing. I nibbled at it slowly.

Either way I looked at it, I was going to lose out. I didn’t have a choice. No matter what happened in that alleyway two days ago, I was always going to come out with blood on my hands. The choice I’d had to make was weather I wanted the enemies blood, or my fathers. I swallowed hard, not wanting to even consider the latter option. I was feeling bad now, but I could only imagine how much worse I’d feel if my father had been the one with a bullet in his chest. And I’d done nothing to stop it.

Just as quickly my thoughts spun the other way.

I had still taken a human life. No amount of reasoning or excuses would change that. I’d had other options. I could have startled him, I could have dropped the crates like I’d planned to the first place. I could have yelled out for my father and quickly hidden. Pulling the trigger had not been my only option, just the easiest. And I’d proven myself to be weak. Dropping the bread into my lap and ignoring it again, I moved to put my head in my hands. I didn’t know what to think. All I knew is that I wanted Riley to make it all better again.

I laid back down and stared at the ceiling. Considering the logistics of escaping again. Jamison and my father were keeping a watchful eye over me. They were scared. Worried I’d resort to some self-destructive behavior in my desperation. At the moment, as much as I hated to admit it, it wasn’t out of the question. Sometimes, I just wanted to hit myself until my thoughts straightened out, until I got a grip on myself. I caught the feeling Jamison picked up on that and their watchful eyes would make getting out of here almost impossible.

A thought occurred suddenly. They were watching me while I was awake, not asleep. They did not expect me to try and leave, they were expecting something much different. They weren’t watching for escape attempts anymore. Not while I had locked myself away without any signs of leaving this room anytime soon. Maybe I could use this against them.

The guilt seemed to intensify, if that was possible. I was going to betray my father again. I was desperate though. Riley could make this better, I’d convinced myself of that. I hadn’t seen him in so long. I missed him. I wanted him to cuddle me and tell me everything would be okay. I could believe him. My dad would not understand that, I barely understood it myself. But he’d never have to know. I’d been in and out without him noticing a hundred times. I could do it again, especially if he wasn’t watching me. Sighing, I closed my eyes. It was worth the risk I decided. To see Riley, I’d face anything.

Almost instantly, I started to feel calmer. Just the thought of Riley was a balm to me. He didn’t know what I’d done. He’d still love me, I could be normal and happy with him. Even just for a few hours. Letting out another loud sigh, I let myself start to drift back into sleep. Knowing there was nothing I could do just yet. I had to wait until the rest of the world was asleep.