THE RUNWAY;
part two
HIDDEN IN THE BACK OF the van, Atticus and Renna were sitting opposite each other against piles of cushions whilst John B, Pope, JJ and Kiara lined up against the fence at the runway. They were just talking, softly, because the blonde couldn't talk any louder. She was still hurt from the day beforehand, holding a hand to her purple and blue blotched neck with a continuous wince.
In the midst of their calm conversation, unaware of what was happening on the plane in the middle of the fenced-off road, John B flung himself into the front seat of the van. The pair in the back looked up, eyes wide, but before they could get even a syllable of a word out, their friend had suddenly thrust the car forward.
"Hey, Booker! Booker, what are you doing?" Atticus shouted as he grasped onto the seat behind him, trying to keep himself from flying into the front windscreen.
"B, what's goin' on?" Renna asked quietly as he drove through the gate, throwing the pair around in the back.
"John B, what the hell, man!" Atticus groaned before carefully pulling himself up, stumbling up to the front. He placed both his hands on the back of the headrests as he poked his head between the seat with furrowed brows.
"Ward's got Sarah!" He shouted. "He's hurting her." Atticus looked back, him and Renna sharing a worried glance. "And your dad's there too," the boy said cautiously, sneaking a softened look behind Atticus to Renna through the rearview mirror.
Renna had told the group what happened the night beforehand, only leaving out the extent to which she had beaten him too. Whilst John B was grateful that she'd stood up for him like that, and actually believed him in the first place, he somehow wished she didn't. When he was looking through the binoculars, surveying her once father's face, he knew what had happened. His head was almost indistinguishable. Renna had lost it, entirely.
The girl closed her eyes, throwing her head back against the van, letting out a long breath.
"Just stay in here, it'll be okay," Atticus suggested as he looked back, eyes trained on her as John B drove closer to the isolated runway.
"No- no. I wanna go out there." She shook her head, staring across at the wall of the van in thought. Unbeknownst to the two boys, she was trying to convince herself to follow her words.
"Renna-"
"I can't just hide away from him forever," she reasoned, finally flicking her eyes over to her friends. John B, taking her words as his all clear, drove up to the plane, stopping the van right in front of it. "That's not what I meant!" Renna screamed.
The boy completely ignored the pair's shouts and yells of disagreement in the back, but luckily, the aircraft stopped to a halt. As soon as the trio were out of the car, Ward and Sarah came running out of the plane, Renna's ex-dad not far behind them.
"Get away from him," Ward tried as Sarah gravitated towards her boyfriend, Atticus and Renna standing beside them. The curly-haired boy immediately clenched his jaw when he saw the man with bandages and dried patches of blood on his cheeks standing across from him.
"No! Don't touch me, and don't tell me what to do!" Sarah shouted as John B wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back.
"You think this changes anything? It doesn't," Ward muttered as he glared at John B. Renna didn't take her eyes off him, but she could feel Richard Larson's pupils boring into the side of her head. Atticus saw it too, which explained why he angled his body to be in-between them both.
Interrupting the group, the sound of blaring sirens filled the compact area. The six people looked down the runway to see a cop car speeding towards them.
"You gotta get outta here," Sarah said as she turned in his grip, hand finding her boyfriend's cheek.
"Yeah, that's not such a bad idea," Atticus mumbled as he stared at the vehicle, but it was too late.
"Oh, thank god you're here!" Ward droned on as Peterkin stepped out of the car. "Susan, I told you he lost his goddamn mind."
"Put your hands on your head," the officer demanded as she reached for her gun.
"I'd do what she said, kid," Ward smirked, but it disappeared when the gun was pressed against the back of his head.
"She's talkin' to you, Ward."
"And you too," Peterkin sneered towards Richard. "You're both under arrest for the murder of Big John Routledge."
"Are you kidding me?" Ward scoffed.
"You can't be serious," Richard muttered as he slowly lifted his hands up. However, Ward's arms stayed firm at his sides.
Atticus spared a look back at Renna, who was trying her hardest to hold back her tears. He reached out, holding her hand, which she instantly gripped tightly. She hated him, hated the man her father had become, but it still hurt twice as bad when she saw him being sentenced for being an accessory to murder.
"Are you kidding me, Sue?" Ward tried, once again, but was instantly shot down by the officer.
"Put your hands on your heads!" Finally, Ward lifted up his arms. The two men turned around, facing their children as their hands were tied. However, even after seeing their daughters' distressed faces, they fought back. When Peterkin raised her gun, Ward stopped. Then the shot sounded.
Out of instinct, Atticus pushed Renna behind him, immediately applauding his decision once seeing the blood pour out of Peterkin's abdomen as she dropped to the ground with shock. She fell to her knees as Rafe and Blake rounded the corner, Rafe with the gun in his hand, a smile on his face, and Blake staring down at the bleeding Sheriff with terror.
"What the hell did you do?" Blake uttered with his hands on his head, walking in a circle as he breathing picked up rapidly. "What the hell did you do, Rafe?"
"Blake?" Renna whispered as she stepped out from behind Atticus, before moving her bewildered sight back to the officer dying on the floor.
"I saved you, dad," Rafe laughed, wickedly. "I saved you." Then he raised his gun to the four friends beside the van.
"Hey, watch it!" Blake shouted as he smacked the gun out of his friend's hands, just as the officer started to cough on the cement beneath them. Renna and John B immediately ran towards her.
"Hey. Hey. Hold still. It's okay. Where is it?" John B muttered as the boy pressed his bandana against the officer's stomach.
"You're gonna be okay, Sherriff. It's okay. Just keep breathing for me, okay? Can you do that?" Renna soothed, her quiet voice being barely audible to the woman slowly losing her sight on the floor.
"Call for help," Peterkin managed. The two friends shared a look over her bloody body. Renna's hands were bloody again. John B picked up the radio, but Ward came up to them with a gun. "Run!"
"She'd right, B. You've gotta go," Renna nodded as she kept her hands pressed against the bandana on Peterkin's leaking wound.
"I'm sorry," he muttered before turning around, breaking into a sprint.
"You too," the woman coughed, staring up into the hopeless girl's eyes.
"C'mon!" Atticus pulled the girl up and ran, running into the tree line as shots fired around them. When they made it into the safety of the shading bushes, they separated. Renna went home whilst Atticus returned to his friends. She still had blood on her hands.
"Mum? Mum!" Renna shouted as she ran into her house, wiping her wet hands on her pants. She had used the tap outside to wash the everlasting blood away so her mother wouldn't overreact, even though Renna could still see it. Nobody else could, but Renna would always see the blood on her hands like she would see the man in the water.
Her loud voice echoed in the empty foyer, that still wasn't so empty. She stared forward, looking at the slightest taint of red staining the tiles in the middle of the hall, only something someone like Renna or Atticus or Richard would see. She could still feel his skin breaking beneath hers, the liquid splattering onto her face as she cried her heart out. But that was yesterday.
"In here, darling," the woman called out, so the girl ran towards her voice with a thankful sigh, leaving the trauma behind. She was sitting in the lounge room, painting her nails, while housewives played in the background. "How are you to-"
"He watched Ward kill Big John. He helped him set it up." She twisted the cap of the polish back on before turning to her daughter, eyebrows furrowed.
"You mean to tell me, my husband . . . killed a man? But- when? How?" The woman placed a hand against her chest, eyes widening as she stood taken aback.
"Yeah- yeah, he did. And he was gonna fly away today, with a bunch of gold that belonged to John B," Renna ranted with an inconspicuous hand to her neck, the words and emotion straining her sore throat.
"Oh my." She stood up with a hand over her mouth.
"B- But Peterkin stopped him. She was gonna arrest him but . . . but she- she-"
"She what, sweetheart?" Her mum stepped forward, arms out to portray peacefulness and tranquillity.
"She got shot. Rafe shot her right there in front of me, and Ward held a gun to our heads- but dad didn't do anything! He didn't even- He didn't even do anything!" She cried, running her hands through her hair as she screamed.
"Oh, darling. Sweet Renna, dear- I'm so sorry." Her mother pulled her into a much needed hug, holding the back of her head as she closed her eyes, gently rocking them. "That man- your father . . . I've been waiting for an out for a long time." She leaned down to her ear. "Don't you think now's a good time to call it off?"
Renna nodded as she sniffed, pulling away as she wiped her cheeks. "Yes- please, yes. He- he killed my friend's dad, and didn't even care that Blake had gone missing for days without saying anything! I can't stand him anymore."
"It's okay, darling. He's not here. I won't let him hurt you, okay?" She promised with a sweet smile. However, it wasn't him hurting her that worried the young girl, it was her hurting him.
"Just, please don't leave again like you did when I was young," Renna cried.
"Oh, baby, that was just a holiday, dear. Just a . . . a very long holiday." Renna knew it was a lie, it had always been a lie, but she couldn't deal with it at that moment. It would come back up later.
Someone came running in the room from behind them, eyes wide as he pulled himself to a halt. It was Blake.
"Oh my god." Renna ran towards him, running into his open arms.
"You didn't get shot, did you?" He asked instantly, breathing in her sweet, captivating scent.
"No, no. Did you?" She fired back with squinted, worried eyes.
"No, I'm good. I'm good," Blake muttered as he pulled away, taking a moment to look down at his sister with a thankful smile - thankful for her still being alive - before he gravitated towards his mother.
"Hey, mum," he winced.
"Where on God's Earth have you been?" She shouted as she rushed forward, wrapping her strong arms around his shoulders.
"It's a long story . . . involving Rafe, and guns, and the threatening of lives. But I'm done now. All of it's gone now, anyway," he said, eyes flicking between his mum and sister with sadness.
"What do you mean?" Renna asked, despair appearing within her pooling irises.
"The gold's gone, Ren. Every ounce of it." She groaned, running her hands down her face before kicking a nearby pillow. "Have you told her-"
"Everything. She knows it."
"Even dad?" He asked sceptically, eyebrows furrowed.
"Even your father," their mother interrupted with a curt nod. They all sighed in the silence. "I'll file for a divorce straight away. I'll make sure we keep the house, he can move to one of his other countless places. It'll be-"
"It'll be the story of the century. No one in Figure Eight has gone through a divorce like this," Blake reasoned, crossing his arms.
"Peterkin's death will be top news," their mother pointed out before striding out of the room, heading towards her bedroom she shared with Richard. The siblings followed. "Renna, you stay with your friends. Blake, you stay with your non-psychopathic friends. Pack as much as you need, a whole suitcase even. I don't want you coming back here until he's gone. I'll even file a restraining order."
"No, that won't be necessary." Blake shook his head as he looked down at his sister, who immediately looked away at the floor as her foot fidgeted against the ground. "Right, Ren?"
"Yeah, right."
"Okay. Okay, okay. Once you leave, don't come back for anything, alright? It's too dangerous," the woman demanded, placing a hand on each of her children's shoulders as she stared into their eyes.
"Where will you be?" Renna asked softly.
"I don't know yet, but I doubt I'll be here. The divorce will take forever, but I can kick him out within reason almost in a few days. Everything will be fine," she smiled, pressing a quick kiss to her daughter's forehead before doing the same to her son.
"Hey, what happened to your neck?"