Remains by Sam Sisavath

Author:Sam Sisavath [Sisavath, Sam]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-11-04T16:00:00+00:00

He couldn’t force or trick or cajole more answers out of Lyla because she didn’t come back after his feast of SPAM. Instead, Wash was left to hang from the barn’s rafters, a posture his body had adapted to, mostly because he had lost feeling in both arms. He wouldn’t even know his arms were stretched over his head if he didn’t look up, and it made him wonder if he’d be able to do anything if someone showed up and cut him down in the next few seconds.

Hopefully I’ll get to find out.

Because the alternative was…not good.

“That’s an understatement,” the Old Man said.

I’m trying to be optimistic.

“This is your idea of ‘optimism?’”

Something like that.

The Old Man laughed, but Wash ignored it.

“You know you’re just ignoring yourself, right?” the Old Man asked.

Wash ignored that, too.

Eventually, night arrived, and the town of Jasper…didn’t change whatsoever. The only difference that Wash could detect was darker air inside the barn that forced the dirty floor and random carpets of old hay he knew were scattered around him into the shadows. He kept waiting for Lyla to come back, or for Keith to show up and make good on his ominous promises, but neither one did.

Left to his own devices, and unable to do anything but hang around (Har har, now that’s a good one.), Wash thought about the last thing Lyla had said before she left:

“They’re scared of you,” she had said.

“Me? Why would they be scared of me?” he had asked.

“Because of who you are,” Lyla said. “Because of why Keith brought you here.”

That last sentence stuck in his mind. That, and what Keith had said to him last night:

“My orders were to bring you here.”

Wash didn’t have to think too long or too hard to understand what they were saying, even if they didn’t come right out and say it. He had to admit, though, that he didn’t think it would work out quite this way. He’d imagined it bloody and violent, not with him hanging from a barn’s rafters all day long, bored out of his mind.

“Better bored than dead,” the Old Man said. “And look, it’s getting darker. Maybe you won’t have to be bored for very much longer.”

Yeah, maybe.

The barn had become colder as more shadows appeared in its corners. Eventually the day disappeared, and Wash waited to hear the telltale signs of nightcrawlers finally coming out of their hiding holes, finally making good on Keith’s promise. But the night dragged on, and he couldn’t hear or couldn’t make them out through the slivers along the sides. The doors also remained closed.

Come out, come out, wherever you are.

Nothing. Nothing out there, and nothing in here with him.

No ghouls, or Keith, or Lyla—

The faded, distant pop-pop-pop of gunfire, coming from beyond the walls.

Now what?

Wash turned toward the sound. They were faint, obviously coming from far away, but there was no denying what they were. He’d heard them too many times, in too many situations, not to recognize the bursts of semiautomatic gunfire when he heard it.

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