Exhale

Chapter 36 - Shots Fired

In my quivering hands, the gun rested and was held upright by a mere shaking finger, which trembled on the trigger. And as God would have had it, Ben's sudden movement was enough shock for it to pull back just enough, just far enough, for the piston to activate. And as God would have had it, even after the gun itself tried to fight back against the odds, the possible happened before my own eyes.

The gun had fired and a man was shot. A man was shot, and the bullet went through skin and bone. The bullet went through skin and bone, so he fell to the ground. He fell to the ground, and he clutched his wound. He clutched his wound, and I could tell he was never going to get up. I could tell he was never going to get up, and I knew it was all my fault. It was all my fault. I pulled the trigger, I caused his doom—it was all on me: everything. Yet I couldn't do anything. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe—the stench of gunpowder was choking me and the view of red was blocking my vision. All I could do was stare wide-eyed as he gasped in pain and rolled around as he clutched the stain of red from his chest.

From his fetal position, he cried out, "Alastair, Alastair! Alastair, why have you forsaken me?!"

At that moment, I heard footsteps and saw a shadow looming over us. I turned and pointed the gun. Nothing was there. But my heart still couldn't be tamed.

"Al, Al," he cried out once more. Begrudgingly, I looked back at him. He was lying on his back, looking up at me. Tears were in his eyes. With a mouth that was slobbered in drool, he asked, "Why? Why can't you believe me? I tried everything... everything to make you believe me. And everything I've done... have you forgotten it all? Everything I did for you—do you really think there was an ulterior motive in it all? I loved you all, I really did love you all. Yet... this is how you all repay me? With acts of terror? Is this what love is? Has love always been pain?"

With a forced crooked look on my face, I asked, "I never forgot everything you've done for us. If I did, then why did I return the lead from your lead-like lies? That could only mean that I care... or rather, care enough to give you something back in return."

"But Al, I was telling you the truth. I haven't told you any lies, and never will I ever tell a lie to you or any of our friends."

"Of course not," I agreed, "a dead man can't speak."

"Al, why don't you care about me?" he cried. "We were so close, yet you're... you're so far." He reached for me. With a sad smile, he asked, "What happened to us? Why are you... why are we like this?"

I laughed. "What kind of question is that? You already know the answer." With a choked voice, I stated, "It's because you killed Fauna... none of this would have happened if you hadn't hurt her. If you hadn't killed her, none of us would be here."

"I never meant to hurt her."

"So they all say." I looked away. "Yet...here we are. Our last time with each other... ending where it started. Rather poetic, isn't it?"

"Al, it doesn't have to be like this." He gripped my hand. I looked at him. Through gasps of breath, he asked, "You... you know how to save a life, right? I know this was an accident... all of this was an accident. So why don't you... could you save a friend? Don't you want us to be together forever? We can all run away from this country, maybe go up north where it's always sunny and warm. A country where it's always summer, always full of life, where it's never winter. We can have meat every day, and we can live a normal life. Wouldn't that be great? We can have a good life and... run from all of this. We don't have to worry about this. No more X.Q. virus, no more fending for ourselves, no more hunger—just friends carried by love. Don't you.. don't you think that's perfect? Wasn't that what Fawn wanted: love?"