I jumped as the old van hit another pothole. Charlie had swerved left and right to avoid obstacles on the road while cursing nonstop. His face contorted in a mixture of worries and frustration that reminded me so much of Dad's.

I couldn't help but think about him and Robert again. Where they were. What they could be doing at the moment. If they were safe. If they were even alive. As a matter of fact, I had not stopped thinking about them since Meg's men dragged them out the door. Everything after that was a blur.

One minute, I was dragged by my hair. My nose bled into my shirt; my head felt split in half, and the next, something flew at the TV and smashed its screen into a million pieces. I was let go. More like being thrown aside. I remembered seeing Edgar head-butted the guy who had dragged me while Charlie screamed bloody murder and fired multiple shots. At me. No, the gun was pointed in my general direction, but he aimed at someone else. Who? Where did the gun even come from? I couldn't recall. Vince was thrown into the bookshelves and knocked out cold after that.

I was there but wasn't really there. My mind was a numb marsh. My body was frozen in place. I might have cried and screamed a little. Who knew? I remembered the trophy. Edgar Watts, #3, 1999 Championship. Something like that was engraved on its brass body. It was not far from me, so I grabbed it. I struck it down, again and again, until my whole body was covered in the warm, metallic red.

Everything stopped.

Before me, a pile of flesh and crushed bones that used to be someone's face.

My mind went to a few days ago before Meg's group showed up. Charlie's loyal helicopter had some major engine problems, so the old man planned to go into town with Edgar and Robert for parts. That never happened. Now, we rode Edgar's old van.

The images of blood and smashed flesh jumped out like needles in my brain. Vince rocked back and forth in his seat while mumbling to himself. I didn't hear what he said. I didn't want to look at him. Couldn't. I was afraid that if I did, I would remember everything clearly and vomit all over poor Edgar, who was unconscious.

Of course, none of this was my poor brother's fault. None of this was any of our faults. We were free and in one piece, right? That should count for something.

But I did murder someone. That was the ugly truth. I couldn't turn back time and undo it. I didn't have a choice, still...

Edgar's blood soaked through the puny rag in my hand as he coughed, forming a small puddle on the floor. It didn't feel like we got any closer to our destination, and I didn't know how much time had passed. How much time he still had. Every time I looked up, the road seemed to stretch out a little further.

"We're almost there, Edgar...Please, stay with us..." I choked on my tears.

"How is he?" Vince lifted his head and whispered.

I closed my eyes and shook my head. The sticky rag felt like a lump of lava.

"He won't die." Charlie's calm voice emitted from the driver seat, halting our steadily forming panic attack.

He made a sharp turn into a gravel road, and I saw them. The line of maple trees. The crooked one that fell victim to Vince's many attempts at mimicking bike stunts he had seen on TV. The one by Mrs. Galley's house-now all boarded up. I wonder where that old woman had gone. I hoped that she was safe. Safety had become such a luxury these days that dreaming about it felt like a joke. Finally, Robert's uncle's barn house. Memories flooded my mind like an old, long film...

"We're home!" Vince launched himself to the front seats, waking me from my reminiscing. He received a death glare from Charlie.

"Vince, go open the door and prep the kitchen table." I cleared my throat.

My brother nodded and pulled the van door open before Charlie could kill the engine. Vince jumped out, stumbling before running and disappearing around the hedge.

"Charlie, can you help me with him?" I looked at the old man's back.

"Of course." Charlie got out and came to stand by the door that Vince had left open. "Slowly...slowly..." he said as I leaned Edgar on him. Charlie put Edgar's left arm around his shoulders, and I did the same with his right one. We walk with him to the house, passing my mom's pride petunia. Dad had taken care of them well.

The snow had thinned out, enough to make everywhere we stepped a muddy mess. The farmhouse looked exactly like the last time I had visited. Thanksgiving, I thought, or maybe Christmas last year. The world had changed so much since.

Edgar made a noise in his unconscious state that made my heart leap to my throat.

"Almost there," I reassured him as well as myself.

I kicked my sneakers off as we entered through the back door. Old habits died hard. It had been instilled by Mom. She couldn't stand her precious rugs getting dirty.

Vince ran over to help us lay Edgar down on the dining table. He had covered it with towels. My brother was cleaning his wounds by the kitchen sink when we walked in. Superficial cuts by the look of them, but the swelling on his face looked worrisome. It would get worse in the next few days.

I was not a professional in any way, but I could disinfect and close up a wound. I supposed. I had plenty of practice with Vince growing up. My brother had been an injury magnet in his teenage, and it was not like we had a lot of choices. Every big and small clinic on the way had been closed, ransacked, or both. Bigger hospitals fell under the strict control of the Federation Army. We couldn't take the risk of going there and being hand-delivered to Castillon.

Edgar's wound turned out to be a little more complicated than I had thought. I didn't know exactly how until I cut his shirt open. Two shots on his right shoulder. Only one got clean through.

"Ok..." I took a deep, shaky breath and grabbed the emergency kit Vince had left there. I poured alcohol over the scalpel and dug it into Edgar's shoulder. The queasiness that came with it was like nothing I had ever experienced in my life. I steadied myself for a few seconds and continued. Edgar's whole body tensed up and relaxed over and over again. His muscles twitched under my hands, reminding me of the weight of my action. I tried my best not to visit the extreme cases I had watched or read regarding gunshot wounds over the years while feeling the bullet inside. It was slippery.

Finally, I got a hold of it with a forceps. I pulled it out and threw it on the table next to Edgar. I then cleaned his wound as best as I could before applying the zip stitch. It was God-sent because I was shit at sewing anything.

Edgar was covered in blood and sweat by the time I was done. So was I. At least he was breathing. I stood back and stared at my work in a daze. Now came the wait. Fever would be expected, but we must keep a close eye on Edgar.

I sat down and stared at a loose thread on his shirt. Behind me, Vince and Charlie whispered to each other. I couldn't make sense of their conversation. My hands shook nonstop. Not a moment too soon.

Vince came over with a glass of water. "Drink," he nudged it toward me.

"Thanks," I mumbled and gulped it all down. The water tasted like Heaven.

***

Our county had been deserted for the most part. On the way here, we had not seen anyone, which was a relief. Desperate times brought out desperate characters, Dad had said, but it saddened me still. Our once lively neighborhood was no more, and the eerie silence around the farmhouse started to bother me.

I mentally went through a list of what needed to be done if we were to stay. Dad was a Doomsday prepper who had stocked up enough supplies for a few years, so not much left for me to do on that front. Now, the note I had left at Edgar's cabin became another thing for me to worry about.

I had hoped that Dad and Robert, by some miracle, could escape Castillon's claws to return to the cabin, but I knew it was a slim chance. Even when they did, there was no guarantee that they would notice or understand my note. It addressed Robert, or 'Bear', which should be beyond embarrassing, but in that confusing and difficult moment, I had thought of him. That was the truth.

I sighed and slapped my forehead repeatedly, going through everything one more time. Maybe, nothing at all. Yes, nothing would be the best. I stood up and decided to check on the generator, just in case. Charlie's phone suddenly blared like a dying goat on the table, making me jump.

"Oh my God! I told you to change it!" I stuck my fingers in my ears.

"Hello?" The old man rolled his eyes before shouting into his phone. "Yes! Oh my God! How... Alright... Where are you right now? Ok...Thank God...Yes! Good...Good...Yes, how is he by the way?"

Charlie huffed and leaned back on the counter. Something changed about him. The old man glanced at me before walking out to the porch and closing the glass door behind himself.

I didn't like the look of it, not at all. I walked to the glass door and yanked it open.

"Alright... So, we'll see you when you get here then." Charlie turned around and acted startled when he saw me but continued. "Don't stop. Don't look around. Just keep going until you get here... Yes, yes, everyone is fine. She's fine. Vince is fine. I'm fine. Edgar, well, he'll live."

I wanted to snag the phone from Charlie's hand, but the old man hung up before I could do that.

"So, how are they?" I put my hands on my hips. "Where are they now?"

"Lou, listen..."

***

My world blurred and reduced to a chain of buzzing statics. I felt cold. So very cold. More than anything I had ever experienced in my life. The only thing that came close was when I stood by my mom's grave as they lowered her casket into the ground.

I felt arms around me. I wasn't sure whose, but they were comforting. They supported my body and carried me to an unknown location. Then I woke up in my bed.

The sheet smelled just like how I had always remembered. Lavender and linen. Mom's favorite softener. My throat was on fire. I must have screamed and cried until it couldn't take it anymore. How unbelievable, how unreal. My dad---the mighty General Jonathan Haynes who had not only survived but also won multiple wars---was gone.

My world collapsed in utter confusion. I felt great pain and a numbing sense of loss toward a man I rarely had a conversation with. Muffled voices echoed and didn't make any sense in my head. A few rays of sunlight seeped through the curtains to hit my face at a perfect angle to blind me.

I couldn't feel their warmth. I desperately wanted to.

I pushed myself up. My head wanted to split in half after I had lain down for God knew how long, but I determined to crawl to the door. Crawled and winced, crawled and winced until my hand reached the handle. I turned it and continued my journey toward the stairs. I rested against the balusters, drained. Below, shadows moved about in the hallway.

"It's gonna be a wild time..." Charlie's voice was grave. "With Castillon escaped, and the Hansens are in bed with Crow, I don't know what all \this means, but it can't be good. We must be careful. Especially you, son. You cannot relax. We don't know how much they know. Now, I don't even think staying here is a good idea."

"I know," Robert sighed, "But they need some time..."

"Of course... Poor kids, tsk. They took it way harder than I thought. I don't know what the hell I thought exactly. He was their dad."

I didn't like how my brother and I were mentioned as if we were invalid and pitiful lost souls. We were adults. That meant we would take care of our family. Dead or alive.

"I know you care about them, son," Charlie continued. "But the best thing you can do now is to give them some space."

"I know, Charlie. Trust me. I do..."

A clatter interrupted Robert's frustrating sigh. I jolted straight up as a familiar feminine voice came to my ears.

"What are you gentlemen whispering about? Want some?"

"I don't think you should touch those," Robert said.

"Well, finders keepers. Besides, I don't think that he would mind. These fine wines would go to waste anyway."

That was enough for me to stand up and charge down the stairs. I cursed the flaring pain in my body but it wouldn't stop me. I would scratch that bitch's eyes out.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" I came right at Charlotte's face before turning to scream at Robert. "What is she doing here? Did you bring her here?"

"Lou!" Robert and Charlie both jumped to their feet and ran over to pull me away from her.

"Jeez, calm down. Anger is not good for you." Charlotte fixed the neck of her shirt that I had just attacked.

"I'll slap you if you don't shut your mouth." I yanked away from the men.

My barefoot felt the hardwood floor's coldness, but I was floating. None of this was real. These people in front of me. What was in my chest. It was a long, bad dream.

From the living room, slow footsteps approached.

"What's going on?"

Edgar poked his head in, looking like a poltergeist. His round face didn't have much color, and he was topless. Some blood appeared on his shoulder gauge, and I thought I had done a damn decent job.

"What are you doing up?" I grumbled. "Where's Vince?"

"Uhm, I don't know..."

"Outside, chopping woods," Charlie said.

I headed for the back door.

"Lou, wait!"

Robert chased after me but hesitated to touch my elbow at the last minute. He blocked me instead. One look at him put a nail in my heart. The dam of my emotions broke. It was all real. He was here, and Dad was not.

I fell on my knees, choking on my own tears. Robert gathered me in his arms, and I let him. I had nothing to say. I prayed that neither did he.

To my relief, Robert only sighed and combed his hand through my hair, stopping at every knot to untangle it. I buried my face deep in his chest.

"Ahem." There was that uninvited presence again.

I opened my eyes and straightened my back. Now I could glare at her properly. Charlotte stood there all innocent in a clean set of clothes. Vince's. Of course, my brother must be the good Samaritan to a beautiful face. His old pair of sweatpants and faded band t-shirt didn't make Charlotte look any less attractive, but the trademark charming smile on her face was gone.

"Listen, Louise," she came over and crouched down in front of us. "I know we got off on the wrong foot, and for that, I'm sorry. But I hope that you don't mind me making a stop here. It's just a quick breather before I decide what to do next. Don't worry, I'll try to stay out of your way." She made eye contact with Robert. "This isn't my final destination. Not according to my plans. I'm so sorry for your loss... I heat up some soup. You should eat something."

She stood up and walked away. I untangled myself from Robert.

"Lou, please..." Robert held onto my hand.

"We will talk, but not now." I eyed Charlotte who helped herself with another cup of Bourbon in the kitchen before turning to the stairs. This trip had taken all of the little strength left in me. I yearned for the bed.

"Can I walk you to your room at least?" Robert pleaded.

I shrugged and continued walking without looking back. Robert followed me quietly like a shadow. His presence weighed heavily. His eyes poked and probed at my back.

"How did he die?" I turned to him as we reached my room door.

Robert didn't seem surprised by my question. "He was shot. By Castillon. It happened fast."

"Did he..." I opened and closed my mouth.

"No, like I said, it happened very fast. He didn't suffer."

I was not very convinced, but what else could I do besides turn to open the door to my room? My whole body hurt. Inside and out. It seemed that my tears could never stop coming out of my eyes. Robert went in behind me and closed the door behind himself.

"I'm sorry, Lou. I'm so sorry." He reached out to me and pulled me in. His head rested on mine.

I clenched my teeth. A vain attempt to stay strong. I didn't think I would want Robert anywhere near me, but here I was, actually feeling relieved that it was him and not anyone else.

We stood in the middle of my room, drowning in our separate thoughts as the soft daylight found its way through the blinds.

...

The moon was high, brushing us with her silver fingers. Just like the old days, we sat on the roof facing Robert's uncle's abandoned farm in the distance.

"I should burn that place to the ground and claim insurance." Robert took a swig of his beer.

"If insurance still exists, man, I'd say yes. Go for it," Vince mumbled with his eyes closed.

Those were his first words of the day. My brother had not taken a bite of food or a sip of water after his wood-chopping session. Instead, he had pulled out the old lawnmower and mown the whole four acres around the farm. Then, he worked on his old Camaro until sunset.

Vince and Dad had never quite gotten along, especially after our mom passed, but in certain aspects, they were exactly the same. Two sides of an emotionally constipated coin. They would rather break their back doing things that no one asked than talk about their feelings.

My brother was hurt, I knew, but he showed it differently. You wouldn't see a tear coming out of him. Sometimes, you didn't know how much a person meant to you until they were gone. Life liked to play cruel games on us. We both couldn't stand spending more than ten minutes with our dad, but now we wished that he was here. More than anything.

"To insurance," I raised my bottle, "And Dad."

"To Dad," Vince mumbled.

Robert followed suit, "To the general."
I watched the blinking stars far above. "So, what's next?"

The guys didn't respond until Robert turned to me. "Uhm... I mean hunkering down here isn't a bad idea. Not like we have a choice anyway. Tomorrow, we can check the supply-"

"I mean you. And her. What is your plan?"

Loud clattering followed by unintelligible conversation erupted on the back porch as if on cue. Charlie and Edgar must be preparing dinner---a combination of whatever poor creature they had shot earlier and canned food. Charlotte would naturally be there. She had kept clear of the second floor so far, and for that, I was thankful.

I gestured in that direction. "So, what's your plan?"

Whatever his answer was, I would be ok with it. I had to.

"Oh. I told you mine..." Robert rubbed the nape of his neck. "At least for the foreseeable future. About Charlotte, I don't know. She didn't really tell me. Also, there's no 'Me and her'. Charlotte saved me, came along, and like she said, she just wanted a break here before moving on when the time was right. I hope that you don't mind..."

"Why would I," I sighed, "it's just... A child is coming. Yours. Excuse me If I'm out of line here, but there is a "You and her" now no matter how you want to look at it. You want to be involved in your child's life, don't you?"

"Yes...But that doesn't mean that she and I have to stick together. Because we won't. That much I know. I told her. I can still be involved."

I nodded and turned to Vince. "I think we should do a memorial for Dad. What do you think?"

My brother broke a loud snore when Robert slapped his leg. "What... Of course! Should we carve his name on the garden stone next to Mom's? Or what?"

I sighed and looked at the stars again, forcing my tears not to come out. We were orphans. Such a strange concept. No matter how old we got, it seemed that we were never truly ready for this moment to come. Many things had changed, and somehow, we found ourselves exactly where we had started. Square one.

"Maybe, we're really two big losers as Dad implied many times, you know?" I chuckled, "He should have a grand funeral. He deserved it. I know he would prefer it. But here we are. A garden stone! That's all we can offer. We don't even have his body..." I covered my face and shook my head. I laughed but tears kept falling.

"Oh, Lou..." Robert pulled me to him. "I'm so sorry. I should have tried harder. It's all my fault that I couldn't bring him back... You should curse at me or hit me. I freaking deserve it. But don't you ever say that you're a loser because you're not. Neither is Vince. Your dad loved you guys very much. All he cared about was your safety." Robert lifted my face with both hands. "I promised him that I will stay and keep you safe, and I will do just that. We will go through it together. Three of us, just like before. I promise that you will never be alone."

"Just like the old time..." Vince groaned and flipped on his side. "It's not your fault either, Robert. I hope you know that. We don't blame you. Well, I don't. It's a strange time that we're living. Strange time. Fucking unfortunate, man." He sniffled and lay on his back again. His eyes were wide open, staring at the stars. "I know I'd rather see you survive and come back in one piece."

I agreed with what Vince said. Yes, I wanted Robert to come back safely, but it would be a lie to say that my heart didn't sink seeing him come back alone. It was just too much, our suffering, layer upon layer. How could we ever be the same?

Earlier when we had laid in my bed, listening to the subtle sounds of the world outside and our heartbeats inside until the noises in our heads quieted down; I had wanted time to stop. I had wanted to fall asleep and never wake up again.

"It's not your fault," I concluded with a nod. "You came back to us. That's all that matters."

Faint footsteps made us turn to the attic window, where we had climbed through earlier. Edgar poked his head out. "Hey, you guys need to see this."

We followed him inside and down to the first floor. The TV was on at high volume.

"...General Fernando Castillon has been relieved of all official duties upon his arrest. The Federation Court has issued an order for his appearance as soon as the third of April..."

"The third? It's next week! Safe to say there won't be any election in the near future. How convenient." Charlie rolled his eyes and went to turn off the stove.

"Well, we can't say for sure because one thing I know," Charlotte leaned on the kitchen island with her eyes fixed on the TV, "The Hansens do like to portray that they're "different" from the other generals."

I looked at Robert. His expression was unchanged.

"They didn't mention anything about QL though," Edgar said.

"Naturally," Robert sighed. "I wouldn't expect them to. It would be classified. I think they have been busy shredding evidence while dealing with Castillon."

"Yup," Edgar rubbed the nape of his neck. "I'm hungry. Anyone wants food? I'm gonna go get myself a bowl..."

It was safe to say that Edgar was well on his way back to his old self despite the black, blue, and white gauze covering his face and body.

"You ok?" I touched Robert's elbow.

"Yes," he smiled, "Why wouldn't I be?"

I gave him a sympathetic look. "I know it can't be easy. After all, he is who he is. To you..."

"Trust me. I feel nothing toward the man. The little sympathy I used to have evaporated because of his actions. What he did..." He looked at me. "To all of us is unforgivable, so he got what he deserves."

I nodded, not knowing what else to say.

"And Lou?" Robert said.

I lifted my gaze.

"Don't worry about me. Focus on yourself." He held my hand. "Take time to grieve. Heal. I will be right here. I'm done running."