After the End Has Begun by Rick Wood

Author:Rick Wood [Wood, Rick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rick Wood Publishing
Published: 2019-01-21T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty

Boy’s hands hung onto her waist like she could fly away at any moment.

He didn’t want to look at Dalton.

No, didn’t want to look at him.

Too scary.

His face was strange.

Different.

Don’t want to look…

He rested his forehead against Rosy’s back. Felt tears in his eyes wetting her top.

Stupid tears.

Pathetic tears.

Too old for tears.

I just don’t understand…

That was what the tears were about, after all. Not the fear, not the sight of Dalton’s demented features, not concern for his safety – but incomprehension.

He wished he could understand these things, know why people looked or acted a certain way, but he couldn’t, he couldn’t, he just couldn’t.

And that’s why he wanted to cry.

Because Dalton had taken care of him. Found him a chess set. Played with him. Listened to Boy recite all the names of the different trees. Smiled at him, looked warm and inviting, like he could trust him, always trust him.

Now he was shaking and holding a knife and looking scary and looking angry and why was he so angry?

And why was he being so nasty to Rosy?

Rosy never deserved unkindness.

She was the nicest person in the world.

Her fingers stuck into his wrists and it hurt but it was okay. Even though she was squeezing too tightly and he could feel his muscles move back and forth under the tightness it was fine, it was okay, because she was doing it because she was Rosy.

Rosy always took care of him.

She let go of his wrists with one of her hands.

Why was she doing that?

Please don’t let go of me…

Why was she lifting her arm up?

She took a knife from the back of her belt.

A knife.

She swung her arm and Dalton grabbed it and the knife fell to the floor and Boy just wanted to shut down and shut it all out.

Then Dalton’s hands were on Rosy’s throat.

And she took her other hand off Boy.

She wasn’t touching him at all now.

Why?

He no longer felt protected.

Please, Rosy, please let me know it’s okay.

But it wasn’t okay.

He heard her spluttering, heard her choking, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe, why couldn’t she breathe, why couldn’t she…

Dalton’s hand was around her neck and he was looking into her with fiery eyes and he looked so mad but he was hurting her he was…

He was…

He was killing her…

He was killing Rosy.

He grabbed hold of her body, tried to yank on her arm to make her pay attention but it was going limp, going limp and empty and her body was shrinking and was she dying?

No…

Rosy…

He wanted to shut down wanted to crawl into a ball into a little tiny little ball where he could be oblivious to everything where Rosy wasn’t being hurt where Dalton didn’t look so scary where the world would shrink and everything would go away.

But he was losing Rosy.

Dalton was hurting her.

Boy saw the knife on the floor.

He picked it up and screamed.

No one hurts Rosy.

He swung it at Dalton but he didn’t swing it well. He didn’t try and aim or anything he just swung, hoping that Rosy would be okay.

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