After the Crash

I had no patience for him, not at this moment, and I could feel my anger rising to a boiling point as he held his insubordinate gaze. I shook my head, “walk away, Ren.” He had the audacity to hold my gaze a few seconds longer before complying with my orders. He swallowed his anger, and fell back to the end of the party, while I moved forward to meet Whitney. “Swear to god,” I stepped to her side and began leading the group away from PCD officers, “that man was sent here to test me, and I’ve little faith that the two of us make it to Boston without killing each other.”

She laughed, then raised her eyebrow, “I’ve never seen anyone talk you out of something before.”

I shook my head, “he couldn’t talk me out of anything.” She looked at me unsure, and I shrugged, “you and I know that when it comes to the PCD and prisoners, time is of the essence.” She nodded her head, agreeing. I did the same, “he wants to talk, to make a plan, but that’s the kind of thinking that gets innocent people killed.” She moved her head slightly, giving me an unsure look. I looked behind, to make sure no one was eavesdropping on our conversation. “As soon as we switch up our posts,” I looked at Whitney, “I’m doubling back, and I’m not coming back without those people.” She gave me that look, the one that was partly disapproval and partly an admission that she saw this coming. I handed her the maps, “you know where we’re going.” She nodded, and I did the same, “push a little further if you can. The further you get, the safer you are. As always,” I looked at her, “if I’m not back by morning, you move without me.” She let out a deep breath but nodded. We moved forward for several miles before taking a break.

We rotated around, placing Whitney and I in the back. No one questioned it, and as soon as we began moving, I fell back. I trusted Whitney not to alert anyone of my absence until it became apparent. At first, I moved away quietly, hoping not to alert anyone in our group. Once they were an ample distance, I moved at a quicker pace, paying less attention to my surroundings and the sound of my feet. When I came back to the bend, the PCD scouts had already moved. There were tracks. I began following them. I hadn’t walked long when I came across the bodies. A whole family, lying on the floor in cold blood. I turned them over, checked for a pulse, but there was nothing. I shook my head and continued walking for at least thirty minutes before I finally heard them. It sounded like a struggle. I hastened toward the sound, hid behind a few bushes to watch the four PCD officers and the two remaining prisoners. They were a man and a boy, who looked about eleven. There were two men watching the prisoners, while the other two were sitting by the fire messing around. I crept around the bushes to a better vantage point. I got to a position and sent a shot at one of the men. He went down; then I sent another two, one to assure he was dead and the other hit a PCD officer in the leg. I moved before they threw their guns in my direction and began firing. Then I got into another position and shot the third guy as he came toward me.

The last PCD officer took the kid in his arms and held him, “don’t shoot or I’ll kill the kid.”

I walked out from the bushes, “you let the boy go, and I’ll let you live.” He held the gun, “I’ve already taken down two of three men, and if that doesn’t convince you, how do you feel about the name Kyla Danes.” I saw him squirm a bit as I took two steps closer, “you can run,” two more steps, “but my offer only lasts ten seconds, then a bullet goes through your head.”

“I swear,” he said, “I’ll kill the boy.”

“Now you’ve got seven seconds,” I raised an eyebrow and took two more steps, “six, five,” he shifted his glance between me and the boy, “four,” he let go and started running, and I sent two bullets at him. I looked back at the shocked man and his son, “whoops, I guess my hand slipped.” I took another shot, finishing off the one that I hit in the leg and then put the gun behind my back. I approached the man and child, “listen, these are scouts, and I’d wager they’ve got a larger traveling party nearby, so I need you and the kid to grab what you can, while I search their pockets.” I leaned down, taking the gun out of an officer's hands, “here,” I held it out to the father, “we might run into trouble.” He raised his eyebrow, and I continued, “my name’s Ky, and my party’s about half a day’s hike, and they’re moving in the morning,” I looked to the sky, “I hope you don’t mind walking all night.”

“You killed them,” the man looked at me.

“Don’t leave the PCD alive,” I shook my head, “not if you can help it. You let one go, and twenty will be after you within a day’s time. Kill them all, get on the road, and you’ve got a better chance at living.” He looked at me unsure, so I rolled my eyes, “is this your son,” he nodded, “do you want to keep him safe,” again he nodded, “then your best chance is with me.” He reluctantly took the gun and did what I said. I took their guns, the PCD ID cards and papers, any ammo they had, which wasn’t much, and a couple of other miscellaneous items that might be good for trade. I ordered the man to take down the small tent and grab anything he thought would be useful. I found a bag, threw some stuff in it and put it on the kid’s back. In no time, we started moving back toward my party. After a while of silence, I looked at him, “do you two have names?”

He looked at me; I noted how he held the rifle I gave him. He held it like someone who’d held a gun before, even someone who’d been trained to hold a gun. I made a mental note of that fact. “I’m Alex,” he looked at me, then at his son, “and this is Luca.” Luca hid behind him when I looked over. Alex turned back, “Luca’s shy.” I nodded, but he continued, “he lost his mother in the crash, hardly spoken to anyone since.”

I smiled, and looked at the boy, “I get that.” I kept moving, keeping my eye on Alex. I didn’t want him to turn that gun on me. “I can’t promise my party will take you in,” I looked over, “it'll be put to a vote, but we’ve got a lot of single parents who might sympathize with your situation. And if you can use that gun,” I nodded, “and I presume you can, we could use another pair of eyes on watch.” He looked at me unsure. He didn’t look young, but he also didn’t look old enough to have an eleven-year-old son. He had facial hair, in the dim early evening light I couldn’t make out exactly the color, but it looked dark. His eyes also seemed dark, but tired. “What happened to the other family,” I asked.

“The other family,” he looked at me unsure.

“I found them, a few miles away from the campsite,” I turned my eyes forward, “two kids, dead.”

“I told them not to try,” he let out a deep breath, “but they thought they could catch them off guard, make a run for it. Father, and the boy,” he shrugged, “he was almost fifteen,” he shook his head, before continuing, “they tried to blindside one of the officers, disarm him, but it didn’t work out.” I shook my head; I could have gotten to them first. I gripped my gun tighter, angry at myself for not helping them. “Shot the boy first, then the father,” he let out a deep breath, “their daughter kept screaming, and I guess they thought it was just easier to dispose of the entire family. I kept Luca away from it, didn’t help, and they spared us.”

I let out a slight laugh, “wouldn’t look too good if they didn’t come back with at least one child soldier.” He looked at me but said nothing. Not for a while. Because we were moving in the dark with extremely limited light, I tried to keep the conversation going so I could assure that they were near, and we didn’t lose each other. I kept my hand out, feeling the trees. Every so often I ran my hand over the mark that Sam had left for me. We stayed on track. I just hoped we’d reach the campsite before they left, though, it wouldn’t take long for our group of three to catch up with a party of almost twenty. The sun was rising as we finally stumbled upon my party. “Don’t shoot,” I said, “it’s Ky.”

Ren kept his gun up, “and you’ve brought company.”

I walked up to him. His eyes were on Alex and his son, not me, and his gun remained in a defensive position. I grabbed the barrel of his gun, as I stepped in front of it, and pushed it down. “Don’t let me catch you pointing that gun at me again,” I looked at him. We held each other’s gaze for a while until Whitney cleared her throat. I turned my head to find her eyebrow raised. “This is Alex,” I nodded toward the guests, “and the small one is Luca, get them some food and let’s get this camp cleaned up as soon as we can.” Whitney nodded, leading the two toward where Rosa was making breakfast. I made a move to follow, but Ren grabbed my arm. I raised my eyebrow, “didn’t I tell you not to touch me.”

“Didn’t I tell you to stop making stupid decisions,” he countered.

“You don’t give me orders,” I pulled my arm from his grasp, “you’re not in charge of me.”

I made my way over to Whitney, who shook her head, “I swear if looks could kill, the eyes you two give each other.” I shook my head, and she smiled, “he didn’t sleep a wink all night, wanted to be the first one to see you, probably wanted to put you in your place.”

I let out an exacerbated breath, “glad he didn’t sleep, as far as I’m concerned, the family I couldn’t save is on him.”

“Ky,” she looked at me, “you can’t throw that on someone, he thought he was doing the right thing.” I disregarded the comment and began taking everything down. She followed, “so what do you make of those two.”

I looked at the two of them eating. Alex was talking with some of the girls and Luca was hiding by his side. I shrugged, “single father, mother died in the crash, the boy doesn’t talk much, and he’s had experience with firearms, probably some kind of combat experience. I saved them,” I glanced over again, “so we could expect some degree of loyalty.” I shook my head, “didn’t get much more than that.” She raised her eyebrow, and I shrugged, “I figure there’s no harm in getting them some food and letting them travel with us one day. Tonight, after dinner, we’ll put it to a vote.” I looked over at him, noticing the rifle slung over his shoulder. “Oh,” I looked at Whitney, “and until we agree on what to do with him, I don’t feel comfortable letting him hold a weapon.” She gave me a slight smile, then nodded, confirming that she would get the rifle. I got straight to work and managed to keep myself occupied until we were on our way. I was in the back with Sam and Dale, keeping an extra eye on the two additions I had brought.

We had moved a fair amount, with Whitney leading, when Ren drifted back. “Dale,” he nodded, “Rosa needs to talk with you.” Dale just nodded, moving forward toward where his wife was. “Ky,” he looked at me after we’d walked a while, “can I get a word?”

“I don’t need to be berated,” I shook my head, “not by you.”

“I’m not here to berate,” he let out a frustrated breath, “just talk.” He looked at Sam. I turned around, and Sam was raising his eyebrow.

I nodded my head for him to move forward a bit, then looked back at Ren. “Whitney told me you took all four watch shifts,” I turned my head forward, maintaining my pace, “said you wanted to put me in my place.” I turned my head sharply, “I know my place.”

He let out another breath, “that’s not why I took all four watch shifts.” I just scoffed, turning my eyes forward, then to the side, then forward again. “I wasn’t gonna get sleep anyway,” he started, “not until I knew you were okay.” I turned, watching him shake his head, “might as well make use of myself.”

I looked at him a long second, but this time he didn’t look at me. I couldn’t read his face. So, I just let out a breath, “don’t lose any sleep over me, Ren.”

“Can’t help it,” he let out a slight laugh, shaking his head. He still wasn’t looking at me, but then he turned. “I’d feel better,” he let out another breath, “if you took someone with you,” he shrugged, “doesn’t even have to be me,” he shook his head again, “anything’s better than running off on your own.”

“I haven’t had anyone,” I shook my head, and he looked at me. His eyebrow was raised, and I turned my gaze forward. “I haven’t had anyone,” I repeated, “to help me, or look after me for a long time. Doing things like that, on my own,” I shrugged, “it’s just second nature now.”

“Now you have someone,” he said. I looked at him, thrown slightly by the statement. He must have noticed my facial expression, because he shook his head, “I mean, someone to help you out whenever you wanna run off and play hero.” I glanced over and, when I saw him smiling at me, I immediately looked away. I tried to stealthily let out the heavy breath I’d been holding. Then, he continued, “this new guy?” I looked over to find his eyebrow raised, “you trust him?” I didn’t say anything, but he pressed, “Ky, do you trust him?”

I shook my head, “I don’t trust easy, but I’ve got a soft spot for kids, he owes me his life and his son’s, and while he shows signs of combat training or at least savvy with a rifle,” I smiled at him, “I don’t imagine he’s quite the elite force that’s gonna bring me down.” He looked forward, skeptically. I shook my head, “feel free to keep an extra eye on him if you’d like.”