Alberto could feel the blood pouring down the side of his face.
He had been ashamed by how blindly desperate his flee was, but it had been what kept him alive. Without a gun and bleeding out from his eye, he really had no chance of winning if he had charged back in.
Alberto found himself hoping they would survive long enough for him to collect their bounty himself another day.
Hidden behind the cover of the trees, he watched the flame slowly spread across the home’s western wall.
“Another day…” He turned and shuffled away.
“See if you can snuff out the flame from in here!” Slater yelled out as he lifted the empty metal bucket, which had, until recently, been filled with sharp nails. “I’m going to the well for water.”
Rose had been coughing up the smoke that started to fill her lungs. Although the interior fire hadn’t spread beyond the kitchen yet, the smoke had already filled the entire house.
Traveller walked cautiously down the steps; the smoke made it difficult to see the floor beneath him and he didn’t want to join the mercenary who had been turned into swiss cheese by accidentally stepping on a nail.
He could hear Rose exhaling strong, furious coughs, but when he finally reached the kitchen, she was nowhere to be found.
“Rose…?”
“In here!” her voice called out from below.
She had been curled up into a ball in the hidden bunker, next to a corpse. This had been the one area of the house that was below the fire—the only spot the smoke hadn’t reached yet.
“You okay?” he asked, noticing that she was breathing rapidly. He was fairly certain that smoke didn’t cause hyperventilation.
“Crazy week.”
He nodded to her.
“Blankets,” she said.
“What?”
“For the fire. There are some in Slater’s room.”
He’d have to go back up the stairs. “Alright.” Before he left, he looked back down at her. She was paler than usual. “We’re going to be okay now. No more killing.”
She didn’t respond, so he just made his way back to the stairs, but before he could start the cautious ascension, there was a loud bang.
He peered into the kitchen. The fire seemed to still be spreading at the same pace and there wasn’t any sign of another explosion.
Was it the generator?
Then another bang.
Outside, Slater had been held around the neck by an older mercenary. While he held his gun to Slater’s head, the younger held his pistol up in the air and fired a third time.
Definitely not the generator. Traveller looked around for a weapon, but somehow none had been near him. They were all upstairs.
“You’ve got five seconds to be out here, unarmed, or he gets it!”
Traveller froze. He had nowhere near enough time to climb up, find a gun, and climb back down to retaliate.
“Five!”
There were no sign of movement from the house.
“Four!”
He fired up into the air again.
“Three!”
Even though the old man’s gun was already aimed at Slater’s head, he aimed at Slater’s cheek.
“Two!”
Traveller walked out of the front door, both hands raised into the air.
The young man’s gun became focused on Traveller.
“Drop whatever guns you’ve got!” he yelled out.
Traveller’s hands remained stiff in the air. “If I had any guns, I wouldn’t be standing here.”
Although the gun remained aimed at Traveller, this had been enough to relax the young man’s grip. “You two really put on quite a show.”
Traveller was right in front of them now. “Let him go,” he pleaded. “He was just trying to protect his home.”
This time it had been the older one that spoke. “He knew what he was doing.”
The fire continued to grow. It had surely spread beyond the kitchen by now.
“Come on,” the young one said, impatiently. “Time to see Mao.”
Traveller obediently led them back to their own car, gun pointed at his back and his hands in the air the entire way.
The younger one pointed Traveller towards their car with a wave. “Get in the passenger seat. Go on.”
They gave no such directions to Slater. The gun remained pointed at his head.
“Go on!” the younger yelled impatiently.
The older rolled his eyes. “Calm down.”
“Calm down?” the young snapped at him. His entire body, including the aim of the gun, turned away from Traveller.
The glimpse of an opportunity for Traveller, but the old man would still kill Slater if he did anything. He would need a bigger opening. He couldn’t reach down to his pocket yet…
“Yeah,” said old. “You get too excited.”
“You’re too calm!”
“The job’s done. How’re you gonna live as long as me if you don’t learn when to relax.” He yawned, squinting his eyes shut.
When his eyes opened again, his young companion had been reeling from a punch to the face. Traveller’s fist pulled away, revealing that the four nails he held between each of his knuckles implanted themselves into the side of his head. As he fell, Traveller grabbed the gun out of his shocked hand and aimed it towards the older man.
Traveller didn’t have any time to worry about his aim; if he didn’t shoot now, the old man would.
BANG!
The air seemed to stand still.
It was only after the old man fell, limply flowing around Slater’s stoic posture like water down a winding river, that Traveller was certain it had been his gun that made the deafening sound.
Slater nodded. “You didn’t shoot me… Nice shot.”
A smile appeared on Traveller’s face. “I didn’t miss…” Traveller started to laugh.
“I already said nice shot.” Slater walked past Traveller, back towards the metal bucket. “Now stop congratulating yourself and help me with the fire before my entire damn house burns down.”
With Rose suffocating the interior of the fire with Slater’s blankets, and Traveller and Slater working together to bring water from the well to the outer flames, it took them some time to extinguish. Although they managed to keep it from spreading far, what parts of the house the flame had touched were reduced to ash. The entire western wall of the kitchen was gone. Slater assured them that no vital beams of the home had been destroyed, but Traveller insisted that he and Rose stay outside just in case.
It was almost evening now. Traveller and Rose stood by the front door, both ready to leave. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Traveller had asked.
“This is my home. I told you already, I’m not going to run.”
Traveller nodded.
“Don’t you at least want some help?” Rose asked.
“It’ll take some doin’, but I’ll fix ‘er up. You two should get going.”
Rose smiled. She stepped forward and hugged him warmly.
Slater returned the gesture, wrapping one of his stern arms around her shoulder and patting her back reassuringly.
“I got a little goin’ away gift for you,” Slater said. He revealed that the arm he held behind his back this entire conversation had been holding a small collection of books, each on the basics of cars and mechanics. “You’ll need a lot more than this, but maybe this’ll be enough to get you started.”
Rose hugged the books close to her body. She nodded a silent thanks to him. Noticing that Traveller had been silently staring at Slater this entire time with an intent gaze, she decided to give them some alone time. She made her exit, walking around to the white Cadillac still parked at the back of the home.
Traveller and Slater both stood, looking each other in the eye. Neither had been sure what to say.
Eventually Traveller simply nodded and turned, walking off the porch.
“Hey, kid,” Slater said, stopping Traveller from getting too far.
He looked up at Slater, waiting.
“Take care of her. I don’t know exactly what happened with Violet, but I think Rose needs you right now almost as much as you need her.”
The white Cadillac zoomed past the front porch. “Don’t be shy about visiting when things cool off, ya’ hear?” Slater called out with a wave as they passed the abandoned fleet of black cars.
Rose leaned her head against the window, watching the terrain blur past.
They drove in silence for about ten minutes before she finally spoke. “I’m fine with the train station.” She didn’t look away from the window. Slater’s books lay in a neat stack in the back seat.
“Huh?” Traveller turned his head towards her.
“You asked where I want to be dropped off. Train station.”
Traveller turned back towards the road. It seemed to go on forever ahead. There were no other cars; the road was empty.
Obviously, there wouldn’t be any train stations out here in the middle of nowhere, so Traveller was forced to drive through some more populated Barrie roads. They were a few minutes away now. A few minutes away from their parting.
“What’s the plan?” Traveller asked, meekly.
Rose shrugged, disinterested. “Go Train to Toronto, then maybe a Via Rail to Montreal?”
“You going to be okay on your own?”
She kept looking out the window. She could see the train station now, slowly becoming bigger and bigger in the frame of the window.
Then it zoomed past, then became smaller and smaller behind her.
She finally turned towards Traveller.
His face remained forward, lips sternly shut. His hands wrapped tightly around the wheel, likely to keep himself from wiping away the moisture forming in his eyes.
She smiled and relaxed in her seat.
She turned on the radio. A classic rock song started playing. She messed around with the dial a bit, finally stopping at the sound of a gentle trumpet.
“Jazz?” Traveller asked.
“What’s wrong with that?”
Traveller turned the dial back to the classic rock. “Driver picks the music.”
“Says who?”
“Says everyone. You can pick the music when it’s your turn to drive.”
“That’s not fair!”
“Those are the rules.”
“But I can’t drive.”
His head whipped to the right. “You can’t drive?”
The parking lot was large and empty. Rose’s arms were tight and shaking, firmly grasping ten and two on the wheel.
Traveller chuckled. “Alright, let’s just take it slow to start.”
Her head shook. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Just gently press down on the—”
Her foot stiffly slammed down on the gas as far as it could go, and the car was sent catapulting ahead. The sounds of Rose’s terrified screaming and Traveller’s jovial laughter filled the air.
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