Keene, Brian - Terminal by Keene Brian

Author:Keene, Brian [Keene, Brian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

TWELVE

After Sherm left, my headache swelled, exploding in the space between my eyes. I sat back down, keeping the pressure on John’s wound, and felt like dying with him. You know how in books and movies they sometimes describe pain as being blinding? I’d never really thought it was possible until that moment. For a second, I really was blind. Frustrated, I knocked my head against the steel wall, and that made it worse. I felt completely and utterly helpless. But it was more than just the pain. I tried to breathe and found that I couldn’t. Something welled up inside of me— a sense of sorrow and grief and guilt unlike anything I’d ever felt before. It was like I’d swallowed a balloon, and it was inflating inside my chest. At the same time, my lips began to swell, as if someone had cracked me in the mouth with a baseball bat. I could feel my heartbeat pulsing in them as they grew. That was when the tears started; hot, self-pitying tears that didn’t stop.

“Oh my,” Martha breathed.

“Wow . . .” Oscar whispered.

“Ummm, are you okay?” Kim asked.

I tried to respond but all I could manage was a long, grieving whine. John’s blood coated my arms and hands. It had been warm at first but now it was cold. Cold and sticky. He was dying. I was dying. Mac Davis and Kelvin were dead. Before this was over, there was no telling who else would join them.

“We are so fucked.” I leaned my forehead against John’s and sobbed. I felt like I was going to burst.

“You could give yourself up,” Roy commiserated. “Don’t you understand, son? There’s still time to save your friend, still time to get him to the hospital. Nobody else has to get hurt. The way I see it, you didn’t do any of the shooting. It was your friend, Sherm, that killed those two men.”

“That’s right,” Dugan agreed, sitting up straight. “We can all vouch for that. We could sneak out now, while he’s busy with the manager. Then you surrender and we’ll tell the police that you helped us escape.”

I shook my head and wiped my nose on the sleeve of my sweatshirt, willing the tears to stop, the pain to go away. The mucus on my sleeve was pink, and I wasn’t sure if it was John’s blood or my own.

“No. That won’t work, man. It’s too late. John’s dying and I may as well be dead and it’s my fault. All this shit is my fault. My wife and my kid . . . I deserve whatever happens next. Everything’s fucked.”

Roy tried again. “I’m sure that your wife and child would want you to do the right thing. You want to see them again, don’t you? They’ll want to see you alive, right?”

“It doesn’t matter, Mr. Kirby. I’m already dead.”

Page 110

“What do you mean you’re already dead? Surely, your sentence wouldn’t amount to the death penalty. Your friend perhaps, but not yourself. You’re just an accomplice, and if you help us, it could only go in your favor.

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