Broken Road (12 page)

“Jack. . .”

“Jimmy, I know something’s not right with Riley. He’s not himself. We all know it we just don’t want to admit it.
 
You know I love that boy like my own. We all do. Now, I don’t know what brought this on or why it happened.
 
I figure it must be the stress of the accident and EJ in the hospital. There will be time to figure that out later, I suppose.
 
All I want right now is to get Brandon over to the hospital. Don’t worry, I’ll talk to Joe Sherman. You just get Riley back inside and get him cleaned up best you can. I’ll help you get him up.” Old Jimmy nodded and made his way over to Riley, who was still lying on the ground staring at his bruised and bloodied hands. Everything and everyone seemed so far away. He felt dizzy and nauseated.

“Can you get up, Riley?” Jack asked.
 
Riley looked up at him nodded. Jack reached down a hand to help him up and Riley took it. He was shaky as he stood and his face was covered in a series of scratches and gashes.
 
His shirt and jeans were smeared with blood and dirt. He was panting hard. He felt like his heart was going to blow right out of his chest.

“Go inside, Riley. Go inside and get yourself cleaned up. I’ll take care of Brandon. The Sheriff’s on his way with the Rescue unit. I’m gonna talk to him and I want you to get yourself inside and in your room. Lock the door. You don’t need anymore trouble, okay?”
 
Riley nodded and limped his way toward the house with Old Jimmy trailing slowly behind.
 
As he walked, he stared at his bloodied hands and knew that if Jack Cole hadn’t stopped him when he did, he would have done what he never thought possible; he would have killed Brandon.
 
He would have killed his best friend without a second thought.

The porch screen door swung open, creaking as it did.
 
Riley sat in the living room with the tv on and the volume off.
 
He didn’t look up to see who was there.
 
He took a drink from the dusty bottle he’d found in one of the cupboards in the kitchen and wished it were strong enough to get him wasted. It was just some old cooking wine that his grandma Elsie had bought and EJ never bothered to throw away after she passed away. He heard steps and squinted as the light from the lamp hit his face.
 
He raised a hand to shield his eyes.

“Turn it off.” He commanded and the light disappeared.
 
He heard someone fall into the recliner.

“Why are you sitting in the dark, Riley?”
 
It was Misty.
 

“I’m trying to get drunk, Misty, you mind?”
 
He took another swig.

 
“Why are you drinking that stuff anyway?”
 
Misty asked. Riley’s gaze fell on her silhouette.
 
He tried to suppress the longing for her, a desire that was hard and edgy. He felt it more and more now when he looked at her.
 
He was still in love with her and that would never change.
 
His heart twisted at the thought of losing her.
 
He took another drink he grimaced and coughed.
 
It tasted like shit.
 

 
“I thought you could use some company.”

“No, I don’t want company.”
 
Riley took another drink.
 

“Is this because of what happened with your Grandfather? You know it wasn’t your fault.”
 

“How would you know?” He said but didn’t recognize the venom in his own voice.
 
He couldn’t help it if the beast had been freed from its cage. He could feel it clawing its way out from inside of him.
   

“Riley, I just meant that after all you’ve been through. . .”

“You have no idea what I’ve been through.”

“I want to if you’ll tell me.” He looked at her and felt the anger and the hurt rise up again. How could she pretend she cared? He took another swig and laughed.
 

“What’s so funny?”

“You.”

“Me?
 

“You.”

“I see.” She said finally.

“Really?”
 
Riley continued to attack.
 
“Cause up until 2 days ago I didn’t see it, not until now.”
 

“How’s EJ?” Misty asked changing the subject.

“Still in the ICU.”
 

“What do the doctors say?”

“Don’t know.”

“Are you sure you should sit here by yourself?”

“I’m not a baby, Misty.” Riley took another drink.
 

“I know that, Riley.
 
I know that.
 
I just meant maybe you should think about doing something else besides drink alone in the dark.”
 

He raised the bottle of wine and took another defiant drink. Silence passed between them for another moment or two.

“So, why are you
really
here?”
 
Riley began.
   

“I just came from the hospital and I guess I felt bad about what happened between you and Brandon the other day.” She said in almost a whisper. “You know you could have killed him, Riley. You hurt him pretty bad.”

I wanted to. You have no idea how much I wanted to hurt him. Kill him.

“I hurt
him
?”
 
Riley said sarcastically and took a bigger drink. Misty didn’t say anything for a moment and then added,“But I wanted to check on you too. Jimmy said you hurt your hands.”

Why do you care about my hands? You picked him. You went with him behind my back!

“Thanks for checking.”
 
He laughed and took yet another swig.

“Why don’t you go easy on that, Riley.
 
I know you can’t get wasted but you shouldn’t be drinking with all the medication, you know.
 
That’s not such a good idea in your condition. . .”
 

“My
condition
.” Riley could feel the anger surge up inside of him.
 
The word made him want to vomit.

“What the hell would you know about my
condition
, Misty?”

“Nothing, Riley.
 
I didn’t mean anything by it.
 
I didn’t.”

“No, let’s talk about my condition.
 
It’s been the hot topic for the few weeks.
 
You all want to talk about my
condition
. Well, let’s talk about it!” Riley was yelling as he threw the bottle against the nearest wall.
 
It smashed and the remnants bled down the wall.

“Riley, I’m sorry.
 
You know I didn’t mean anything by it. Let’s just forget about it.” He could tell she was scared and part of him hated what he was doing but he couldn’t stop.

“Forget about it?” Riley’s voice was incredulous.

“I don’t want to fight with you, Riley.”

“Of course you do. Isn’t that why you’re here? Let’s do it. Let’s
talk.
” All of his rage was seething just below the surface.

“What happened to us, Riley?” Misty asked.

“There is no
us
, Misty.”

“That’s not true.” She was crying.

“Isn’t it?
 
Then why did I find you with Brandon?”
 
Misty’s eyes went wide with surprise.
 

“Riley. . .”
 

“The other night, in the park, you two were in his truck and I heard you talking!”

“You’re right.” Misty said her voice breaking. “You found me with Brandon.”
 

“I did, didn’t I?” Riley felt the bile rise in his throat. He couldn’t believe how easily she admitted it.

“But, we were just talking, Riley.
 
That’s all.”

“What were you talking about?” he needed to hear her say it.

“We were just talking!”
 

“Misty, what the hell were you talking to him about at 3 o’clock in the morning?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She cried.
Here it comes. Here comes the avalanche.

“Misty?” he said her name as the tears began to swell in his own eyes.

“I’m so sorry.
 
I didn’t mean it.”
 
She was crying uncontrollably. A sudden wave of remorse and sadness came over him.
Please don’t do this! Tell me it’s all in my head! Tell me I imagined it all!

“Why?” Riley grabbed her by the shoulders and began to shake her.

“Riley,
 
I. . . I. . .”

“Goddammit, just stop lying to me!” he begged.

“Riley. . .”

“Tell me!” he demanded shaking her. The monster had been unleashed and at the last moment he realized that it had turned on him and was devouring him from the inside out. He was angry and he could feel it pulsing through his veins.

“Misty!”

“I’m pregnant!” she yelled and he stopped shaking her.
 
The words hit him like a pile of bricks and he just stared at her.

“Riley, that’s why I was talking to Brandon . . . it’s his baby.”

Riley just stood there frozen.
 
He could barely breath.

“It happened before you came home. It was one time and then when you came back you just shut me out. I didn’t know I was pregnant. Not until. . .not until the day I told him.” She said the tears still streaming down her face.

“Shut up. Just shut up.” He said through clenched teeth.

“I’m sorry, Riley.
 
I’m sorry,” she said miserably,“you need help, Riley. You need help. But I couldn’t do it.
 
You kept shutting me out.” She cried. He put his head in his hands and let the weight of his own words dig into him.

“You needed help, Riley. I needed you. I just wanted my life, our life the way it was before you left!” she grabbed onto him but his arms lay lifeless at his sides.

“I thought I could help you, Riley. It’s like you’re here but the rest of you is still back there.”

He said nothing.

 
“Riley, I just missed you so much.” She stroked his hair.
 
The pain was so deep it was numbing.

“Please. Please, Riley.
 
Look at me.
 
Look at me.”
 

He stared straight ahead.

“You have to tell someone what happened over there.” She pleaded “It wasn’t your fault, Riley.
 
Whatever happened over there.
 
It wasn’t your fault.”

“But this is.” He murmured.
 
Tears streamed down her face again she held onto him tightly even though he didn’t return the embrace.

“I’m sorry.” She sobbed.
 

“I should have died with the others.” He said

“No, Riley, no.”
 
she shook her head.

“I keep hurting people.” He mumbled.

 
“Riley, that’s not true.” She said and kissed his chest. He didn’t answer.
 

“I’ll always love you. Who you were, who we were together” She said and squeezed him tightly, “always.”
 
There was nothing but silence and after a moment she let go of him.
 
He couldn’t look at her.
 
Finally, she stepped back and took a moment to wipe her eyes with unsteady fingers.

 
“I have to go.” She said and he heard her start for the door.

“I’m sorry, Riley.” She said turning back to look at him for a moment before leaving.
 
He didn’t answer her and she left.
 

“So am I.” He replied and he knew what he had to do.

Riley got up and went into his room.
 
He jerked open one of the dresser drawers and pulled out a beat up envelope.
 
He held it in his hands for a few moments and then stuck it in his pocket.
 
After a few minutes he went back into the kitchen and opened the cabinet door underneath the kitchen sink.
 
He grabbed a sponge and some Windex and went over to the dining room wall.
 
He sprayed the wall that was stained with the wine from the bottle he had thrown against it and scrubbed it clean with the sponge. Then he swept of the shards of broken glass and threw them away. When he finished he headed for the bathroom.
 
He was sorry.
 
He was so sorry.
 
He loved his grandpa with all his heart.
 
He loved Misty too.
 
But it was all too much now. He knew what it would do to EJ and to Misty but he couldn’t fight it anymore. He knew what he had to do. He should have done it so much sooner and spared everyone the trouble. He walked into the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet.
 
Inside he found EJ’s shaving cream and razor.
 
There was a half empty bottle of Listerine and a couple of boxes of Irish Spring that his grandfather liked to stock up on during double coupon days down at the market. A toothbrush lay on its side next to some toothpaste.
 
After rummaging a little more he found what he was looking for.
 
His eyes fell on half a dozen small, semi-transparent bottles all labeled with EJ’s name and information.
 
They were probably filled at the pharmacy in town. They were full of pills. He turned them so he could read the labels and then picked one that looked like what he was looking for.
 
He opened the first bottle and spilled out a handful of little white pills.
 
Then, he turned the faucet on and paused for a second as he saw his reflection in the mirror.
 
Who the hell was that?
 
That’s the problem, he thought, I just don’t know anymore and I don’t want to know.
After another minute he popped the pills and stuck his mouth under the faucet to drink.
   
He wiped his face with the back of his hand.
 
There, he thought, now maybe he would finally get some sleep. The darkness could be a friend.
 
That is what Riley Favreau wanted to believe as he lay on the bed engulfed in it.
 
He could hide in it with the hope that no one would find him, not even the ghosts and the nightmares that haunted him on a daily basis. He could dissolve into it at will if he chose to do so.
 
He’d learned how to be in it and be perfectly content. That part was a lie.
 
He was never content.
 
How could a person who generally lived in the depths of hell every minute of everyday ever be truly content?
 
He swallowed and took a deep breath.
 
He couldn’t let the panic take him now. He just needed to wait and let the pills do their thing. He just needed to dissolve and maybe the images wouldn’t come and the ghosts would stay away.
 
Maybe if he could find a way to stay in the darkness forever then EJ and Misty would leave him the hell alone.
 
He swallowed again.
 
He could feel the familiar cold waves of panic begin.
 
Shit. So, it was going to leave him with a parting gift.
 
No peace, not even now.
 
It was coming no matter what.
 
It had been a couple of days since the last one.
 
Thankfully, he had been able to get himself back to his room in time where he managed to sit perfectly still in the darkness.
 
After a while of staring intently at the shadowed drapes that kept out the light he had been able to fight back the spiral.
 
But now, he wasn’t so sure he’d be able to do it again.
 
He just wasn’t strong enough to fight it this time. What’s more, he didn’t really want to.
 
He felt like a character in one of those stupid horror flicks he and Brandon could never get enough of in high school.
 
He was that one guy in the corridor in front of some door minding his own business, when some ghoulish arms punch through it and grab him from behind dragging him into the darkness, screaming.
 
God, the fatigue that set in after each of these little movie reels took him over was staggering. It would be over soon, he told himself. Another wave of cold and panic hit him.
 
Soon, that ghoulish hand was going to punch through the door and take him.
 
Riley felt tears in his eyes.
 
He was scared and alone.
 
He was more alone than he had ever thought a person could be within the confines of his own mind. He felt the first tremor hit.
 
Shit. Please, God.
 
Please.
 
Please.
 
He was begging.
 
That was nothing new.
 
Another wave of panic hit and a shiver crawled up the part of his spine he could still feel.
 
Another tremor hit and then a sharp pain in the left temple of his head.
 
The tears came faster and so did his breathing.
 
Then came the scream.
 
Scream! Scream!
God, who is screaming? Who is that, he wondered. Then he realized that the scream was his own.
 
Pain swept through every part of his body and he was so tense that every muscle locked rigidly in place.
 
He braced himself for his arrival into the nightmare and what came after it. He could feel the panic rising inside of him. The fear was going to claim him on behalf of the pits of hell.
 
The tidal wave wasn’t far behind, he thought.
 
Neither were the two people who had come with him on this hell ride.
 
He struggled to remember their names.
 
Their faces he would never forget. One of them was holding onto his hand.
 
It was a. . .girl.
 
She was a little girl about 4 or 5 years old.
 
The other person was hanging on him and couldn’t walk of his own accord.
 
Who was it?
 
Why were they there?
 
He yelled out as the next wave of pain and terror hit him.
 
The little hand holding his squeezed tighter and he heard the little girl begin to cry.
 
Shh.
 
Shhh.
There. There.
He heard his own words of comfort.
 
The little girl kept crying.
 
It was a pitiful cry that was filled with terror and confusion.
 
He pulled her closer and lifted her up with his one free arm.
 
He turned to look at the other person hanging limply.
 
It was a soldier.
 
A soldier.
 
He was a soldier too.
 
He looked down and saw he was dressed in the same uniform.
 
The same one he’d worn on patrols.
 
He was dragging the soldier and carrying the little girl.
 
Where was his gun?
 
Shit.
 
He must have put it down so he could pick up the girl and forgotten to sling it over his shoulder.
 
Why did he do that?
 
He had to go back.
 
God, this guy was heavy and the little girl didn’t weigh any less.
 
He could barely take three steps without feeling the tremendous pressure their weight was placing on each and every screaming muscle in his body.
 
But he had to go back.
 
What if they met up with some insurgent on the road?
 
The road?
 
What road, he thought as he struggled to step over rocks and debris.
 
Some of it was still smoking from the explosion.
 
Explosion?
 
He didn’t hear any explosion.
 
Then where did all this smoke come from?
 
Smoke and fire.
 
Some of the debris was on fire.
 
God, where the hell did that come from?
 
He tried to turn his head to look behind him but his helmet and the weight of both the girl and the soldier made it almost impossible.
 
So, he turned back and suddenly there he was.
 
Some fucking idiot camera guy was standing there.
 
He was pointing it straight at him and mouthing something.
 
What the hell was he trying to say and why was he there?
 
Civilians and journalists weren’t allowed this far into the zone.
 
Didn’t he realize where he was? Evidently he did not, because the joker pointed a zoom at him and began clicking away.
 
The little girl Riley was holding began to cry hysterically.
 
Stop it!
 
Stop!
Riley yelled at the guy but he kept taking pictures of him holding the little girl and the wounded soldier.
 
Wounded?
 
Yes.
 
The soldier was hurt, maybe even dead.
 
What the hell was this guy thinking? He should be running.
 
He should be running like hell.
 
That’s what Riley would have done if he hadn’t been carrying that dead weight.
 
Dead weight.
 
Oh, God.
 
Oh, God.
 
The soldier was dead.
 
He was dead. Yes.
 
He knew it.
 
He knew the guy was dead.
Stop taking those fucking pictures!
 
He was yelling at the guy with the camera.
 
You have to get out of here!
 
He yelled but the guy kept taking pictures and after the next click he heard it.
 
There was a hiss that sounded through the air and then suddenly there was an explosion.
 
Get down!
He reached for the man, letting the wounded soldier fall to the ground as he did so.
 
The little girl screamed.
 
Had he dropped her as well? Suddenly, he was free falling, hurtling through the darkness and the flames.
 
But it wasn’t the falling or the flames that caused the next wave of terror.
 
It was the silence that followed it.
 
They were all gone-the little girl and the wounded soldier.
 
The cameraman was gone too.
 
He was alone in the darkness.
 
He was lying on the ground.
 
Hail, Mary, Mother of God, pray for us now and at the hour of our death, amen.
 
Hail,Mary, Mother of God, pray for us now and at the hour of our death amen.
 
Who is speaking, he wondered?
 
He could hear a voice, faint, like an echo in the distance.
 
Where was he?
 
Was he dead?
 
Yes.
 
Yes.
 
Please.
 
Let me be dead.
 
Riley couldn’t open his eyes.
 
He was lying on his back.
 
The voice continued praying.
 
Was it a prayer?
 
He thought it was, but it wasn’t familiar to him.
 
He must be dead, then.
 
He hoped that until he felt the pain.
 
He screamed.
 
He screamed again.
 
He was in agony.
 
What had happened to him?
 
Where was he wounded?
 
God, had he been blown to bits?
 
Was everything gone except for his head?
 
God in heaven, he was hurting.
 
He wanted to open his mouth and beg for help.
 
But he couldn’t move. All he could do was lay there. Then suddenly he felt a light shine on his eyelids.
 
Someone was there.
 
They forced open the eyelid and shone the light inside.