Jacinda Cross

[Jacinda]

2021

The sounds of the night seemed to grow louder as she stood, her feet rooted in the ground, as if the volume of a radio were being turned up. The rustle of the chill wind through the pine leaves and branches above, the distant hoot of an owl or the cry of prey being hunted. All of it comfortable, in its own way, the sounds of the forest and outdoors. Of home.

But along with those sounds, she could hear voices, loud as well as soft, the dragging of something heavy, the clink of metal. And other things.

Like a leather cord around her neck, it held her tight, kept her from running. Regan was in there. Her life was in there. Her father. Her only friend. Her lover. Her God. Her world. Leaving him was not possible. She couldn't conceive of a life without him.

What was he even doing here? When she watched him leave the restaurant he'd been stumbling about drunk. Was that how they caught him? Maybe he'd followed to watch after her and had been too drunk?

She remembered the drive. Once they had turned off the highway, there had been no following headlights reflected on the roof of the camper shell. He had to have been at a distance with the lights off.

But if he was here, why hadn't he gotten her free? Why hadn't her unlocked the door? It would have cost him nothing, just one turn. Just a pick for the cuffs. That would have been it. Why not? Why? It made no sense.

Her hand throbbed with the pain and the breeze felt cold on the blood dripping down her fingers. Just thinking about that made her woozy. How much had she lost? Her left arm under her armpit felt tacky inside her shirt, cuts from the broken window.

Just then a cry cut through night, a burst of birds high in the trees taking flight in an explosion of feathers, and she jumped. Her heart thundered, galloping in her ears. It seemed ripped from his soul, the sound slicing her from neck to groin and she felt her strength spill out, through the large gash until she could almost imagine it puddling around her.

The scream modulated in intensity and froze her where she stood. Regan! What were they doing to him? Her heart tore. She knew. She fucking knew. His screams were her screams, the death of her world, of her life, of all that had kept her sane and safe and secure since her mom and dad were killed. He wasn't being kept for breeding. Food, they had said. He was food.

She had to get control. She tried to think. Likely, they would wonder where the one she killed had disappeared to. They would come out soon. They would see her. They would bind her. And then, they would each take turns.....she refused to think beyond that point.

And still she stood there, frozen, heart thudding in her chest, felt the cold of the breeze on her blood. Her blood, on her hand, the key to her having freed herself. She had gotten out. Escape first. Die second. Was she a rabbit? A pathetic little girl, who just got free, and then waits for the killer to come?

Regan's screams came again.

Fuck that. She felt a fire burn in her chest, anger roiling. She had cut, torn herself to get free. She'd be damned if she just stood there waiting for them. No. Fuck no! It was her new mantra. I am Jacinda Cross. I will not die without a fight. Not now. Not ever.

That fire burned, hotter and hotter until it was a volcano. She did what she did for her. No one else. Not even Regan. She would save him because she refused to let him die. Could not let him die. But it was her choice to act.

And she moved. His vehicle had to be around here. She circled out quickly, wider and wider, mindful of the time, of how long she had before they came out to check on their missing companion. Quietly, she scouted. Finally, she found the Forerunner. She opened the back and got out a rife. It was going to be tough to pull the trigger with her ruined hand. But she had to try. She put some spare rounds in her pocket. After a moment, she also got the small gas can and a lighter from the glove box.

It was hard to carry. The rifle ended up clenched to her chest with her bad arm while her good one carried the can. She quietly crept back to the house. The screams were constant but she refused to think about what they were doing. I am coming, Regan.

And then he'd be free. And they could....well not go home. They had left for good. But they'd go to the motel. And....then...She stopped, heart frozen, the puzzle pieces dropping into place without mercy. Julie. He'd let it go at her objection, but that didn't mean anything, she realized. When she disagreed, he either badgered her till she changed or just put his foot down. Instead, this time, he had changed the subject.

She started again, moving slower. The closer she got the more the unease grew. No. The fear. She kept imagining Regan driving through the flatlands of Nebraska and Oklahoma on his way to the Appalachians.

She can see him. And he is looking over to the passenger seat- and it is Julie sitting there, little Julie, freckles on her nose, the little girl who sang into a remote and danced in her socks, whi thought a boy at her school was cute and was giddy that he'd kissed her. Julie with her ponytail whipping in the wind.

But she wouldn't be smiling. No, she wouldn't.

(And Jacinda's heart is breaking because she is not there. Because she understands. Because he is tired of her. Because he doesn't want her anymore. Because he goes on without her and where is she and what is she doing? And she is scared. So scared because she doesn't know how, because she is a child and she doesn't know the world and now she has to live in it alone.)

And Julie misses her mom and her sister, the sister who showed her how to dance and she cries for them, wakes up screaming their name in the night, and it will be Regan she is next to, and she won't know the rules, or what it means, and she will break. And Jacinda knows she'll cry for her Dad because she knows what Regan will do to him.

To save her. To rescue her. His new girl. But she's only a girl. Like I was.

And the girl Jacinda dies because she knows she has to make a choice. A sacrifice. She has to decide. Regan with Julie crying. Or no Regan and Julie safe. Because she knows Regan is done with her. Even if Julie safely escapes, it will only be a matter of time. He will find another.

And either way, her old life has ended. All of it. There's no going back to Colorado. Too many painful memories. Too many questions. Because she knows Regan was telling the truth about too many hunts. (She refuses to follow this thought, latches on to something safer.) And she will be completely alone. Alone and scared.

She thinks of Julie's laughter and her dancing and a boy who kissed her by the racketball courts and then ran away.

She thinks of the comfort that comes from feeling safe and taken care of by Regan, of being next to him even for just a little while longer. The shelter.

And Jacinda decides. Her heart is broken, but she decides.

She crept back, planning, heart aching at what she needed to do, trying to find the strength.

Thankfully, the rougs were too busy to notice, or she had been too fast. She held the gun in her left and despite the pain, she quickly circled the perimeter of the house, ducking down at the windows, emptying the gas as she moved. There were only two and they were small. Windows let out too much heat to be large in a cabin in the country. Lastly, she was at the door, pouring out the final drops.

They would smell it soon, if they didn't already. Even as she lit the lighter and set the fire she heard clomping feet. She backed to the truck as fast as she could while the fire raced around the cabin, turned to get her rifle up. The dry logs and dead brush caught fire. The door burst open and the roug she remembered, its greedy slimey face that licked its lips, came out coughing, covering its eyes with its arm, and peering through the smoke. She calmed herself and forced her torn hand to squeeze the trigger.

The kick back against her shoulder was hard but she was used to it. Thank you Regan. It dropped and then two more came through. She fired again, clipping one's leg and the other in the chest. Leg wound tried to get away and she ignored it for now, waiting to see if there were any others.

None came out.

The cabin was on fire now and she felt the heat even at this distance. Her heart dropped. Could she do this? For a moment she said NO! The word ripped from the core of her. Even for a few months, let him stay with me, let me be his girl a little longer. Let me have one last bit of home. Let me have my world. Let me be safe. I promise Julie will get away. I can't be without him!! Regan.

And her heart died. Because she knew. And she would have to be the one to go. Scared and alone. She walked slowly, knowing that every second meant less time for her to get him out, hoping maybe she was too late, that it had always been too late and it wasn't her who decided even though in the end the result would be the same.

It felt as if time had slowed. Everything slowed. Sounds deepened. Everything moved as though through molasses. Each step brought her more and more certainty. Danger. Danger. Danger.

The wounded roug was 10 yards away crawling for escape. Not him. She felt herself moving toward doom nonetheless.

The heat became nearly unbearable but she looked through the fiery door. She saw Regan strung up, hands and feet bound, blood dripping from cuts on right shoulder where the arm joined, as if they had been carving on a hunk of meet. His head lolled and she felt relief shoot through her. Too late. It is done.

And then his head moved, just enough. She could see his tired pained face. The hope in his eyes was plain, the same hope she'd felt when she thought she saw him. Happy. Joyful. Triumphant.

And she just stared, her future and her past and her universe in that fire. All here burning. The heat warped the air and his face distorted and seemed almost demonic. She looked at him, saw the hope turn to fear and then rage. The roars of the flames were too loud for her to hear his words but his mouth moved.

She would always wonder what he said. Because she never did go inside. She watched him, feeling the tears drying as they fell, felt her eyes drying out, felt her mouth move saying I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry. She felt the heat burn against her cheeks, making the front of her clothes unbearably hot.

And then she could hear him. His screams. He pulled and struggled as flames licked around him. It was as if the screams freed her.

She tore herself away into the cold of night, wanting to fall to her knees and throw up, knowing everything had ended. The cabin burned hotter and hotter.

Finally, she stood, forced herself to stop. Grieving would come later. The fire department would be coming soon. One more thing. She followed the injured roug and put a bullet through its head.

It was cold when she got to the vehicle. She was numb. She got in, fired it up and took off. She tried to backtrack and was on the main road when she passed the fire truck, its sirens wailing and lights flashing.

Something in her released at that moment and she pulled over and threw up, then sobbed and sobbed, her wails so hard and from so deep a place they made no sound. They shook her and she couldn't breath. It was like when mom and dad died only there was no one to comfort her, now, no one to blame, no one to vent on. Just her. Because it was her fault. Her face was covered in tears and it hurt, her face muscles hurt and she didn't even notice her injuries anymore.

And then after a while, she couldn't cry and it got quiet and all she could hear was her breathing and her quiet thoughts. The quiet pressed in around her. And she felt nothing. Not numb. But the emotion was spent. And then she could drive again.

She went back to the hotel. It felt like a lifetime ago since she'd been there. Yet it was only a few hours. She pulled up to the room, next to the jeep. A sick dread came over her. Now that it was done, part of her didn't want to see Julie, didn't want to see anyone. She was calm now though she knew it was temporary.

Still, she went to the door and tried the card that for some reason she still had. It opened to quiet. They must be out. Or in their own room. She gathered her things including the precious tablet, the one Julie had freed. Outside she hooked up the trailer to the Forerunner.

She got into the car and started to back out, started to leave and got to the end of the lot and stopped. Something nagged at her. Julie's dad. What if Regan had been right? Suddenly, it made her sick. What if she had been wrong about everything? Fear seemed to overwhelm her as the magnitude of what she'd done- of Regan' death, of her loss, her guilt- was going to sweep her away.

She pulled back into the lot further back and waited, praying, hoping for a sign. If she'd been wrong....this was hell she could never get out of.

She waited, stomach churning, getting more and more anxious. At one point she felt so sick she wanted to find a bathroom and void herself completely, to feel empty. She waited and waited and waited.

Finally she saw Julie and her dad walking back from the restaurant. She was running around, poking him and laughing. He chased her but it seemed he was faking it, faking being unable to catch her. She was laughing and then stopped and so did he. She walked next to her dad talking animatedly, just like Jacinda remembered, carefree and unworried.

Jacinda found herself smiling at the scene. Never in all her life had she felt playful like that with Regan. Never had she felt that comfortable or unconcerned. Always, there had been an element of.....she wasn't sure what it was, but it wasn't what she saw here. Pure trust and joy.

Her heart calmed and she felt a sense of relief. She watched Julie and her dad head to their room and then go inside, the door closing. She could imagine the relaxed scene inside. Her dad would turn on the tv, Julie would get on the tablet and then tomorrow, they would continue on their way, off into the future.

As she had to do. The future. She was scared. Honestly, she was terrified. But she didn't have a choice. She already missed Regan. The guilt came up and threatened to take over, but she breathed through it. She already missed him.

She connected the tablet to the vehicle and brought up the playlist Julie had created. Maybe one of the old songs. The first came on and it just hurt too much. She started crying again. Too much.

She clicked next and something else came on. Through the tears, she smiled gratefully and looked at Julie's room, so thankful for her gift. Live Julie. Be free. Live for both of us.

She pulled onto the highway heading....somewhere. She'd decide. She knew how to contact Atharim in case of emergency. She'd figure it out. She would. She had to.

As she drove off, Katy Perry sang Part of Me

[[Story resolved in Time to Breathe]]


Edited by Jacinda, Jul 3 2018, 05:06 PM.