What Little Remains (The Fallout Trilogy Book 1) (20 page)

“You can’t save
him,” a voice whispers from the darkness around me. I spin, unable to see
anything around me. Darkness is everywhere. I reach to try to touch something,
anything, but my hands come across nothing.

“I’ll kill him,”
the voice whispers from behind me. I spin, trying to find it.

Laughter fills the
air. “Missed me.”

I run, trying to
get away from the voice. It’s in front of me, behind me, everywhere. A light
rises in the distance.

My hair falls in
my face, but I keep running, shoving it back. The light gets closer; I’m nearly
there when my legs can’t move anymore. They stick to the ground, and I can’t
lift them to run.

I fall backwards,
falling for what seems like forever before I stop.

I’m lying on my
back, the ground dirty around me. I look to my left, and Ricky is there.

“You broke me,” he
whispers, a hole appearing in his forehead. Slowly, blood starts to fall out of
it, and his face grows white. I reach for him, desperate to keep him here with
me.

He disappears in
front of me, Razor taking his place.

“You’re next.”

My nightmares continue to haunt
me. I do my best to push them from my mind during the day, but at night they
slip through the cracks. I’m not sleeping. Ricky is less inclined to leave me
alone, which is why he and John are arguing with me because I won’t to go to the
meeting tonight.

“I can stay with you. I don’t
need to be at the meeting,” John says, and sits at the table. “I hate these
meetings. Everyone whines and bitches about the fact that they don’t have what
they need, but they never do anything to change their circumstances.”

“Oh joy,” I mutter, rolling my
eyes and crossing my arms over my chest. “Just what I wanted, a babysitter.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” John says,
leaning back in the chair. “I won’t sit on you. I’d just tie you up and toss
you in a closet. Isn’t that how you watch children?”

“Alright,” Jack says, coming in,
not even knocking on the door. “People are starting to arrive for the meeting.
You guys ready?”

“I’m ready,” Daren says, clapping
his hands together.

“Maybe I should stay here with
Charlie,” John says.

“No,” I say waving my hand. “You
all haven’t left me alone since the attack. I’m fine. I’m safe, and you will only
been gone for thirty minutes, an hour at the most. You need to be there John.
I’ll be fine.”

“You’re right,” John says,
standing up.

“Isn’t she always?” Ricky asks,
leaning in to kiss me on the cheek.

He grabs his vest off of the
counter and slides it on, not zipping it in the front.

“Alright, you boys have fun,” I
say.

I stretch out my arms behind my
back and head into my bedroom. My bed is much more comfortable than my bed at
Nicole’s house. I close the door behind me, just wanting to rest.

I kick my shoes off and climb
into the bed. Yanking my socks off, I curl up under the covers giving myself a
content smile and close my eyes. The smell of the soap on the sheets reminds me
of Ricky.

The other night, Ricky kissed me.
It was out of the blue. I’m not sure how I feel about it, but he did it. Then a
few seconds later, he kissed me again, smiling confidently.

“I just wanted to
make sure I didn’t imagine that kiss,” he says, playfully. “And I wanted to
make sure the attraction was still there for you.”

“You aren’t
playing fair,” I say, turning the handle on the door.

He lets me go,
laughing. “I play to win.”

“You cheat to
win.”

I’m still not sure how I feel
about the kiss. Everything is so complicated. I just want to relax and not
worry. I even out my breathing, letting my body relax into the bed. I let out a
deep breath of air and start to drift away.

The outer door creaks, startling
me awake. Why is John back so early? It hasn’t been that long has it? I close
my eyes. If he wants me, he can come and get me. Or even better, if he thinks
I’m already asleep, he might not wake me up.

The door creaks open, and goose
bumps rise on the back of my neck. Something is not right. Whoever is walking
towards me is breathing heavily; I reach into my pillowcase and grip onto the
knife I keep there. Ever since the attack, I’ve stashed weapons everywhere. I
have a knife under my bed at Nicole’s, several in the kitchen, and the one in
my pillow. After seeing how defenseless I was against Razor, I never wanted to
be like that again.

I roll over with the knife in my
hand, but whoever it is grips my hand and pushes it to the bed and presses a
gun over my heart. Liam is standing over me, covered in sweat, mud, and leaves.
His grungy hair is matted against the side of his head and his lips are bloody.

“You,” he hisses through clenched
teeth. “You ruined everything.”

I try to scream, but he presses
the gun deeper, and I close my mouth, the scream dying in my throat.

“You ruined everything. Razor had
everything under control, and you messed it all up. You are just like her, that
manipulative bitch that started all of this.”

I tried to say something, but he
pushed the gun harder against my heart, and I let out a whimper.

“Why don’t I return the favor?
The mole Razor was told you about shared some interesting information with us.
Did you know that your boyfriend lied to you?”

“Tell me something I don’t know,”
I say through my teeth.

Liam smiles coldly. “Did you know
that he lied to you about your little brother being dead?”

“Is that the best lie that you
can come up with?” I ask, laughing. “Pathetic.”

“Really?” he asks, leaning down
close to my face, the gun over my chest doesn’t move. “If I’m lying, how would
I know about your brother in the first place?”

I falter, uncertain. How would he
know? Brian might have told Razor about me, but why mention my brother? Not
everyone here knows that I lost one, and I never told Brian about him.

“I don’t believe you,” I say, but
my voice falters.

“You’re starting to,” he says. “I
can see you putting it together. Your little brother has been out there alive,
suffering, while you have been playing house with your little boyfriend.”

I don’t want to believe him. I
don’t. He can’t be telling the truth about Danny, he is just messing with me.

“Believe me, don’t believe me. I
don’t really care. But you can die knowing that your little brother is alive
out there,” he says, the hate burning in his eyes.

He looks away for a moment when
someone yells outside, and I see my chance. I roll towards him, pushing the gun
away from me. I reach up and dig my fingers into the shoulder that my knife hit
during our previous encounter. He cries out in pain, jabbing his elbow across
my face. I fall off the bed, landing on my stomach. I can only roll over before
he lands on top of me, pressing the gun over my heart.

Knowing what he is going to do, I
scream and push at him, the gun moves but not enough before he pulls the
trigger. I can’t stop screaming as white-hot searing pain rushes through my
left shoulder. My vision goes black, but I make myself keep fighting. If I pass
out, he will kill me. He pulls the gun back as if to hit me with the handle,
but I dig my fingers into his shoulder hard enough to break through whatever
bandage he had there. He screams and his gun slips slightly, but he doesn’t
drop it completely. He shoots again, this time I don’t feel anything. He either
missed or I’m in too much pain to notice any more.

“HELP,” I scream at the top of my
lungs. “GOD, PLEASE HELP ME!”

Liam looks at me with hatred as
he gets to his feet and runs out the door. Either he doesn’t want to take the
time to kill me, or he believes that I’m already dead. Death shouldn’t be this
painful. I roll over, trying to get a look at the door. It’s open, light
spilling into the room.

I hear shouting outside and Ricky
yelling. I reach my hand up and touch my shoulder. Pulling back my hand, I see
blood. Jack is the first person through the door, and he stops short when he
sees me, his eyes going wide.

“GET JOHN! NOW!” he yells back
out the door, rushing over to me. He pulls a flashlight off of his vest and
shines it down on the hole in my arm and then checks out the rest of my body.

“It hurts,” I whisper, feeling
wetness on my face. Maybe Liam did hit me in the head. If so, that wasn’t very
nice.

“No, it wasn’t very nice,”
Jack
says, his voice trying to pacify me. I frown.

I don’t remember saying that out
loud. People start to fill the room, and I can hear voices yelling outside.

Ricky pushes past everyone and
falls to his knees by my side. His face has lost all color. He reaches down,
almost touching my shoulder before John pushes him out of the way.
 

“I’m sorry Charlie, but I need to
see if there is an exit wound,” he says, his voice hard.

What he is saying doesn’t make
sense until he lifts me up off the ground and pushes around on my shoulder. I
scream in pain, thrashing wildly, even though people yell at me to stop.

“Damn it, we need to bring her to
the medical center, it has the best lighting,” John says, standing back. “Send
someone ahead to start the generator.”

“Are you sure?” Ricky asks, his
voice loud, and I wince, regretting the action the moment pain sears through my
entire body.

“Yes, I need more light to see
what I’m doing or else she’ll have long-term muscle damage. I need something to
help with the bleeding until we get there,” he says, his voice sounding
stressed and annoyed.
 

“Here,” Daren’s voice says, but I
can’t see him.

Something opens, and someone puts
pressure on my arm. The pain that shoots through my whole body is unbearable. I
can’t stop myself from screaming. I scream until I feel like I’m drifting away.
Then I hear someone counting, and, all of a sudden, someone’s arms are
underneath me, and they lift me into the air.

“Charlie, I know it hurts, but
you really need to stop screaming,” Ricky says, his voice trying to be light,
but there is a desperate pain beneath it.

“Ricky, she needs to stay awake.
If she has to scream to do it, then let her scream; we are almost there
anyways,” John says, his voice strained.

I make myself stop screaming and
try to breathe. I breathe in deep and let myself drift away. A place where
there is no pain and no yelling; a peaceful place.

“Charlie,” John’s voice says, but
it sounds far away. “CHARLOTTE,” he yells. “You need to open your eyes right
now!” he commands.

“Don’t call me Charlotte,” I say,
but I don’t think he heard me. I open my eyes to see Ricky above me. John is
looking down at me, his hand holding something on my shoulder. His face blurs
slightly, but I blink and everything looks right. I look up. The pain is
getting worse. Lights are flickering over me as Ricky caries me as carefully as
he can.
 
Ricky is setting me down on
the table.

“Alright, I need to get the
bullet out,” John says. He yells something else, but I stop paying attention.
Ricky is standing next to me, and I try to reach out to him, but my arm won’t
move.

I feel pressure on my legs,
stomach, and my good shoulder. John is talking, but I don’t understand what he
is saying. The lights are bright, and then they get dim and blurry. He looks down
at me and brushes the hair out of my face. He has something shiny in his hand,
and suddenly pain is shooting in my shoulder all the way down to my fingertips.
I scream, struggling to get away from the pain, but strong hands hold me in
place. The smell of iron and sweat fills my nostrils.
 

I scream, and the edges of my
vision start to fade. The severe stabbing pain stops, fading slowly. My eyes
are closed, and I am barely still awake. I want to die
;
anything to get away from this pain. I want to end the suffering and let it go.
I want to go far away where I don’t have to worry about pain and suffering.

Danny’s face floats before my
face. I can’t give up now. I can’t stop fighting yet.

Someone is pushing the hair out
of my face and wiping my face with something cool.

“Bring me by medicine bag,” John
says, his voice grave.

“Are you giving her something for
the pain?” Ricky asks, sounding tense. “Or do you think that screaming in agony
is good for her?”

“If you don’t back off, I will
kick you out. This is your first and only warning. Now, I need to stitch the
bullet wounds closed, so if you don’t mind…” John says, his voice tight.

I let out a whimper, imagining
him sewing my skin together. The picture of a wicked-looking doctor pops into
my head, him laughing as he sews skin together. Someone slides their hand into
mine and squeezes. Somewhere, in the distance, I hear the sound of someone else
screaming; it sounds like words, but I can’t understand it. I take a steady
breath. Maybe I imagined it. Or maybe my screams are echoing in my own head.