Hailey

We ran until our legs caught fire, until our bodies flickered out into tired ashes and left us breathless under an angry sky.

Even the stars were in hiding tonight, and the low rumble of not to distant thunder warned of heavy Virginia rains on the horizon.

Caleb and I stumbled out of the mouth of a rotting tunnel, the cold sweat on our hands hardly holding us together. He kept me close for what felt like miles, the two of us sprinting arm and arm through the rat filled underbelly of the slaughterhouse.

I didn't let him go. Not once.

I couldn't. There were so many reasons, so many stupid, thoughtless reasons why I kept running, but only one stood out. The loneliest parts of who I was, the most secret and desperate parts in me needed Caleb the way I needed my father.

But Caleb was the contrast, the man with the missing pieces, the kid who was me in so many ways but worlds away from the life I’d come from.

My dad made so many holes in me. Little doors and rabbit holes he’d never seen or cared to see. Common sense said I should’ve run back to the police and put miles and the military between me and the Evans family.

But if Caleb wasn’t lying about my dad, all the common sense in the world wouldn’t keep me safe. Maybe he could.

We crawled out into the middle of an empty crop field surrounded by silhouettes of crosshatched fences and the shadows of lonely trees. My legs gave way the second I stepped out of the underground and gravity sent me crashing into the hard packed dirt.

I struggled to suck in enough air to take the sting off the stones lodged into the skin of my knees. If the police gave chase now, I couldn’t outrun them. Neither of us could. But we lost them halfway through the tunnel.

They’d been steps away from catching us both when the shouting and gunfire went quiet. Neither of us knew what happened, neither of us asked why, we just kept moving, that’s all we could do.

Caleb limped over to the side of the tunnel entrance, too distracted to stop and catch his breath. He looked grisly to the point where he was nearly unrecognizable. Every line and groove from his forehead down had hardened in the dark and he hid his pain behind a tight-lipped smile.

        “You should cover that. The dust out here will make you sick if you don’t,” he said.

He ripped off the sleeve of his t-shirt and tossed it over to me. I tied it around my neck and swallowed the sting.

        “Thanks. You should rest for a second.“

        “No time for that.”

Caleb’s voice came out like gravel, lower and huskier than I’d ever heard it. His determination to finish out whatever it was he’d started scared me, not because I was afraid of what he wanted, but because I had a feeling he’d kill himself trying. He circled around the sides of the tunnel entrance until he found what he was looking for.

He froze up and stared down at the raised patch of ground near his feet like he’d forgotten they were still connected to the earth. Maybe he’d lost his mind and left it back in pieces on the slaughterhouse floor between the splinters and broken glass.

I didn’t want to believe something was wrong, but I felt it, and bad things happen to people who don’t pay attention.

        “Caleb, slow down.”

        “Help me with this.”

He pointed me over to a small metal handle near his feet, sunk low to the ground, and dug his heels into the dirt.

        "Why are you still standing there?” He shouted.

I couldn't move. It didn't matter that I wanted to, something bigger than fear hid behind my hesitation. A thousand angry butterflies beat their wings fast enough to kick up a hurricane in my stomach. It paralyzed me. Caleb was quick to pick up on the change.

Whether he felt it or not, he'd changed too. Over the course of an hour, he’d switched from pity-full to purposeful one minute to the next. I thought I'd gotten good enough at reading him to know what was coming, to assume he'd understand why I wouldn’t help him push himself over the edge.

I was wrong.

He turned towards me, enough so I could see live wire rage explode across his stormy blues. Liam's reach hadn't left either of us. No matter how far we'd run from the house, his anger lived and breathed through Caleb's desperation.

        "If you wanna die here, Hailey, keep standing still."

The low groan of old, tired metal cut into the tense quiet between us. Caleb lifted the tunnel door off the ground on his own. The long lines of veins in his hands and arms bulged to the point of bursting out from underneath his skin.

The bottom corner of his t-shirt flooded bright red. The blood was too new to be Cillian’s.

        "Caleb, stop!”

His knees buckled and the door tilted backwards towards him too fast for him to dodge it. I panicked—pushed my feet off the ground and shoved him out of the way before the weight of the slab crushed the both of us.

The rusty hinges screamed across the sky and the hollow echo of the crash ricocheted down into the tunnel. I pulled myself up off Caleb, and found him lying under me covered in blood.

        "Don’t look at me like that, Hailey. I’m fine. The cop only grazed me a little. It’s not too bad, right?"

I'd spent most of my life pretending, putting on an act when things were everything but okay and everyone believed me. Not even my parents could call my bluffs when I got good enough at it. Caleb needed to believe me tonight.

I molded my trembling lips into a smile, and plastered on a mask made of little white lies to keep him calm. I nodded at him like things were fine, like he wasn't bleeding pools into the dirt, and that his gunshot wound wasn't as raw and ragged as it looked.

I lifted up his shirt higher—the cops had shot him clean through his side and I held my breath hoping the bullet hadn’t hit anything important. I needed help. We needed help. But there was nothing but a storm coming.

        "You never answered my question,” he said.

Caleb tried to keep focused, but his eyes fluttered shut when the pain rippled through his body. My heart stood still every time he slipped in and out of consciousness.

       "You'll be fine if you stop talking. It’s gonna rain, and you'll drown if you keep that mouth open," I said.

He hid a grimace behind a half smile and slipped his fingers between mine.

        "Let’s get you home, Hailey. Just give me a minute."

His head fell forward, loose and heavy and my spirit died away in my chest. His rough and careful hands sunk towards the ground and pulled mine down into the dirt along with them. I didn’t let go. I still couldn’t.

        “Caleb Evans, don’t you think for a second that you’re getting away from me that easy. You’ve got a job to do.”

Lightening split the sky in two and I snapped along with it. I sent my free hand sailing into the side of Caleb’s face with all the force I could manage. His eyes rolled open and found mine. He wasn’t going to die for anyone. He wasn’t going to die tonight.

        “You’ve gotta let me help you so we can keep going, okay?” I asked.

I pulled the scrap of fabric off my neck and lifted up his shirt a second time. He reached out and grabbed me before my fingers reached his skin.

        “Don’t touch that. Please.”

His body tensed under my hands. There were so many scars on his stomach. He flinched like they were still new. The bullet wound would leave another, but it couldn’t scar if it didn’t heal.

        “Trust me,” I said.

He turned away so he wouldn’t have to watch me stop the bleeding. Bits and pieces of white t-shirt weren’t going to hold him together for long, but it was the best either of us could hope for until someone found us—if someone found us.

I folded the fabric around my fingers and gave Caleb my free hand to hold on to. The same sickly familiar smell of pocket change snuck up into my nostrils. I brought my fingers down low enough to hover just above the dime-sized hole a few inches higher than his hip.

His breathing picked up the closer I came to the opening of his skin. I looked at him from underneath my bangs, blinked the salty strands out of my eyes, and whispered, “I’m sorry,” before going any further.

I pushed the makeshift gauze down into the mouth of Caleb’s bullet wound until the red stained fabric peaked out from the other side. A low, guttural howl tore through his body like the bullet had through his skin. I broke when his voice did, shattering into quiet sobs as it left his lips and faded into the dead night air.

I’d never heard or seen a boy cry like this. I couldn’t swallow the suffocating helplessness that came with knowing how little I could do to take away his pain. I only made it worse. Guess my dad and I weren’t all too different.

Caleb hid behind his hands so he could cry alone like it was habit. I turned away from him to hide the wet streaks streaming down my face and stared out into the fields.

A pair of headlights peered over the edge of the low hills, and sped along the fences barring the crops from the road. I didn’t think, just got to my feet and ran.

The rain burst down from the clouds and pelted my skin like liquid bullets, washing Caleb’s blood from my fingers and down into the dirt. If I made it to the road, I’d probably scare the life out of anyone driving this time of night.

A girl dressed in boy’s clothing running around with blood on her hands would warrant a 911 call, but I had to take the risk.

I stumbled into the fence and hauled my legs over the splintered wood, struggling to clear the four-foot barrier under the weight of rain-soaked clothes.

Off-white orbs cut through the midnight dark and lit up the world around me. The minute my feet left the fence, a loud ripping sound from behind pulled my attention away from the oncoming car.

Caleb’s jeans caught the corner of a jagged nail, and sent me tumbling head first into the middle of two lanes. I shut my eyes and waited for the thirty-mile-per-hour impact, but the tires tearing towards me screeched to a stop.

        “What the hell d’ye think yer’ doin’, kid?”

Shock rippled across my skin in slow waves. I stared up at the silhouette of a willowy man towering over me in the rain. He pulled me off the ground and examined me from underneath the hood of his raincoat. I blinked to bring the world back into focus and a pair of stormy gray-blues glared back at me.

        “Y’alright? You scared the life out of me, I thought I’d killed you.”

His voice.

His lingering r’s sounded a lot like Liam’s and the subtle slips Caleb made when he spoke.

       “My friend needs help. Please.”

I could hardly speak without my voice shaking.

      “You’re alright love, calm down, take a breath and try again.”

He placed his hands on my shoulders and an old fear sparked to life. Despite his outward kindness, the crags and lines on his weathered face that warned of something sinister.

       “He’s hurt. I can’t carry him. Please, he needs to get out of the rain. He’ll bleed to death.”

       “Take me to him.”

He followed me back over the fences and across the muddy fields. The closer we got to Caleb, the faster I ran—terrified of how I’d find him once we reached the entrance of the tunnel.

He looked so still, lying pale and motionless in the rain like he was already gone. All the strength in my legs spilled out into the ground at the sight of him.

The stranger came limping from behind me, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him he’d come too late.

       “Jesus, Caleb. What’ve you done to yourself?” He mumbled.

He sat down, cradled Caleb’s head in his hands, and placed two fingers on his neck to feel for a heartbeat. He glanced up at me, eyes wild with worry.

       “Can you drive?”

I nodded. He tossed me his keys.

        “Go and get my truck! He’s still breathing. He’ll have a chance if we can get him up the road.”

I turned my back and started off towards the old Dodge in the distance. Halfway across the flooding fields the silhouetted stranger called out after me. His voice cut straight through the rain.

        “I don’t know how you found him, but thank you. Thank you for bringing my son back to me."