The Survivor Chronicles: The Risen (16 page)

Resentment and anger boiled within him, but
he bent down to lower his gun to the floor before rising again.
"Put your guns down, Peter. It will be fine; we'll leave the boy
here when we go tomorrow. We won't take him with us," Carl said in
the tone of a parent trying to calm a three year old having a
temper tantrum.

"There will be other children and other
people. You think I'm going to believe that you're just going to
walk away from this? I don't. You think I don't know that you've
already considered leaving me behind. I'm not stupid. There is no
way I'm going to allow you to leave me high and dry with no
supplies, and without the added protection of more people to keep
watch."

Al glanced at the unmoving boy and then at
Riley and Xander. She had stopped trying to push Xander out of the
way but the color had completely faded from her face. He spotted
the gun at her hip, her hand rested on it, but Peter would be able
to shoot Xander before she could pull the gun free. John stood in
between Carl and Xander, his hand was on the gun at his waist, but
he didn't make any move to pull it free as Peter kept his gun aimed
at Carl. Donald had moved closer to Mary Ellen who remained unarmed
in the corner behind the boy. Al didn't recall seeing Donald with
his gun outside but he couldn't be sure, though he seriously
doubted Donald would've gone out of this house unarmed.

"So what it is that you want us to say or
do?" Carl inquired. "Are you looking to take people with you, to
tie yourself to someone? What is that you
want
?"

"I want Josh, Freddie, and Rochelle to stay
with me, and I will be the one driving the truck from now on. You
won't leave me behind if I have them with me." Peter would handcuff
the rest of them by keeping the children by his side and by taking
control of the supplies. No one would do anything that would risk
the children's lives.

"That's not going to happen," Jim said
through clenched teeth. "My son isn't going anywhere with you."

Peter swung the gun toward Jim as the large
man took a threatening step toward him. Before any of them could
react, before Al even knew what was happening, Peter pulled the
trigger. Mary Ellen let out a small scream but slammed her hands
over her mouth to stifle the rest of it. Al jumped and Carl leapt
to the side as the man that had been standing between them stumbled
backward. Jim's mouth hung open; he crashed into the wall. His
hands were clasped firmly against his chest but a large red stain
was already spreading across his shirt.

Already beginning to recover, Carl was
lowering his guns back down from above his head. Riley had pulled
her gun free and was stepping out from behind Xander. They were
both already armed but Al knew neither of them would get a round
off in time to stop Peter from shooting more of them. Peter smiled
smugly as his guns were already focused on Carl and Xander. Al knew
he would never forget the look of supreme satisfaction in Peter's
eyes. It would be seared into his mind as clearly as the memory of
his dying siblings, and the first time he'd ever met Nellie.

This is what Peter has
angling for all along
, Al realized with a sinking
sensation. He wanted them all dead and he wanted their supplies.
Maybe Peter had been planning to drag out their lives until they'd
made it to the cabin, but they'd come to an impasse far faster than
any of them had expected.

Though everything moved in slow motion, Al
knew it had only been a second or two since Peter had discharged
the shot that would eventually end Jim's life. He wouldn't be in
time to save everyone, but there was no way he was going to do
nothing while he watched his friends be murdered in cold blood.
Kneeling down, he grabbed for his gun. Multiple gunshots sounded
and blood splattered around him.

Xander,

The first distinct memory he had of his life
was standing in a park. He'd been three and tottering awkwardly
through the grass to get at a dandelion. His chubby fingers had
crushed the yellow flower when he pulled it out of the ground but
he'd still happily toddled back over to hand it to his mother.
She'd oohed and ahhed over the crushed flower while she held a
sleeping Carol against her chest. He could still see the radiant
smile on her face; still clearly recall the cut grass and almost
burnt aroma of the dandelion upon his fingers. The smell of
dandelions still brought him back to that moment. His mother had
looked so beautiful that day, so radiant in a way that he'd never
seen her before.

For years, he'd never understood why that
day had been his first memory or why he recalled it so vividly.
Then, when he was fifteen he'd found that dandelion pressed into
the pages of his mother's scrapbook, and he'd felt that love all
over again. It was then he'd realized that he could remember the
day so clearly because it was the first time he'd ever truly known
what love was, and just how deeply he was loved. That ugly, crushed
little weed had made his mother's face light up as if he'd just
handed her a hundred roses, and she'd cherished it even more than
she would have a hundred roses.

He didn't know where the memory came from
now, his life didn't flash before his eyes as he'd heard it would
before possible death. Instead, all he saw was that simple time of
a little boy with his family. All he felt was the unconditional
love of his mother as his ears rang with the resounding echo of
gunfire. Maybe it was the burnt smell of gunpowder filling the room
that had triggered the memory; maybe it was because he felt almost
childlike again as he stood there helplessly amongst the chaos that
had unfolded. Or maybe it was because the only woman he'd ever been
in love with had shoved herself away from him. He'd been holding
Riley, trying to keep her safe, but she'd jerked free of his hold.
The motion had drawn Peter's gun away from him just as Peter pulled
the trigger.

A simple dandelion from a field in a park
had been his first knowledge of unconditional love. That park had
played a part in even more of his memories as he'd grown from
childhood to adolescence to adult. Riley had been in a good chunk
of those memories over the years. Carol, Lee, and Bobby had also
often been present during the laughter, and sometimes tears from
skinned knees and broken bones, but those three were gone now. They
were nothing more than the movies that played through his mind, he
was terrified to look and see if Riley had joined the cast of his
now gone friends.

It had only been seconds since the gunshots
had sounded but he couldn't bring himself to move, couldn't bring
himself to face Riley. But he had too; he couldn't stand there lost
in his memories forever, it was simply impossible to do so.
Gathering his courage, he forced himself to turn his head and look
at where Riley had landed beside him on the floor.

He'd handed his mother a simple dandelion
and she'd treasured it for as long as she'd been alive. It felt
like someone handed him the most precious gift in the world when
Riley's dazed eyes met his. The look on her face said she'd just
seen into the eyes of the devil, and he supposed, in a way, she
had.

Yellow stuffing had exploded from the ruined
cushion on the couch behind her; bits of debris clung to her hair
and shoulders. There was a still smoldering bullet hole just two
inches to the right of where her head was.

So close, she had come so unbelievably close
to death today.

Xander knelt beside her and before she could
get herself into a full sitting position, he took hold of her
cheeks and kissed her. There was no death here; there was only
sweetness and love, and simple relief as he tasted her lips and
mouth. He couldn't get enough of touching her as his hand slid away
from her face to cradle the back of her neck. An out of control
feeling tore through him as he held her against him.

Her breath came in rapid pants when she
pulled away to look up at him. A small smile curved her mouth
before her gaze slid over the others and the smile slipped from her
lips. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to look away from
her. Jim sat on the floor against the wall; his hands covered the
chest wound still pulsing blood out of it. His chest rose and fell
sluggishly but his eyes had closed and a strange rattling noise
escaped him on every exhalation.

Al knelt on the floor near Jim, his hand was
wrapped around the butt of his gun, but it hadn't moved from the
floor. Blood splattered close to Al's hands and there were a few
drops on his face. With a trembling hand, Al wiped the blood from
his face. His mouth hung open in astonishment as he stared at the
man lying just a few inches away from his hand.

A puddle of blood formed beneath Peter. The
red liquid seeped from the black bullet hole in the center of his
left temple. Blood, and bits of skull and brain had exploded over
Mary Ellen, Donald and Victor, who remained on the floor unmoving
and oblivious to the chaos around him. Mary Ellen looked torn
between screaming, crying, and vomiting as blood dripped off of her
cheek to land silently upon the cream colored carpet. Donald was
the color of dry wall; even his lips had turned white. The only
color on the man was Peter's blood, his hair and eyes, the blue
shirt he wore, and his jeans. Donald's hands were still empty as
they remained in the air over his head.

Xander had been looking everywhere but the
other direction he knew Peter had shot in. Just as he'd known that
he had to make sure Riley was still alive, he knew he couldn't deny
looking in the direction of Carl and John any longer. Carl turned
back toward the group; blood spilled through the fingers of the
hand he had pressed against his forehead. Carl froze in mid turn as
his gaze landed upon John.

The gun clasped in John's hands was still
extended and Xander swore that a tendril of smoke curled out from
the barrel. He wouldn't have been more shocked if it had been a dog
standing there holding the gun as he was to see John with it. The
expression on John's face was resolute; his hands on the gun were
steady. Despite his calm exterior, the haunted look in his eyes
told Xander that John would never be the same. He considered John
one of his friends now, he knew that John would have his back, but
he'd never been certain that John would truly have the ability to
take a life if the situation presented itself.

John's gaze lingered on Peter's still form
and then he turned to Carl. "I told you," he said in a voice that
Xander barely recognized. "That I would do what had to be done,
when the time came."

Carl continued to stare at him in disbelief
before he gave a brief nod. After a protracted silence, Carl gently
pushed John's left arm down with his free hand. John's arms
remained unmoving at first but he finally relented to Carl's
pressure on them. "You did the right thing," Carl said.

John turned to look at him. "I did what
needed to be done, that doesn't necessarily mean it was the right
thing."

Xander had never expected anything even
remotely philosophical to come out of John's mouth, and yet those
might have been the truest words he'd ever heard. Carl opened his
mouth to say something but the sound of pounding feet coming from
the front of the house snapped all of their heads around.

"Check on Jim," Al commanded. "I'll stop
them."

There wasn't much to check on with Jim,
Xander already knew that, but he moved toward the large man's side
and knelt next to him. He pressed his fingers against the vein in
Jim's neck. A weak pulse beat there but not for much longer judging
by the easing of the blood from the wound. Helplessness swamped
him, the only thing they could do for the man was sit here and
watch him die.

"Where is Jim?" Claire demanded from what
sounded like the den.

"What happened?" Nancy asked shrilly.

"Is everyone ok?" Josh inquired.

He heard Al talking to them in low tones but
he couldn't make out the words as Al ushered the others back toward
the dining room. "I'll go help him," Donald said in a tremulous
voice.

Riley tore her gaze away from him and Jim.
Bits of stuffing fell onto the floor around her as she rose to her
feet. "Not like that," she whispered. "You're covered in Peter's
blood."

Donald's hands limply fell to his sides as
his gaze ran up and down his body. "Shit," he muttered. "Just…"

"Shit," John finished when Donald's voice
trailed off. "Yeah I'd say that's the best way to describe this
situation."

A strange rattle and then complete silence
drew Xander's attention back to Jim. Beneath his fingers, he no
longer felt a weak pulse. He sat and stared at Jim's massive chest
but it no longer rose and fell with his breaths. Xander's hand
dropped down, he leaned back on his heels to study the unmoving
man. "He's gone."

"This is all my fault," Riley muttered.

"You didn't pull that trigger and what we're
doing with Victor is something we
all
wanted to try. This is
not
your fault," Carl said. "I wanted this as much
as you did."

John grabbed hold of his arm to help him as
Carl took an unsteady step forward. "Are you ok?" John demanded.
Carl waved John's hand away but he sank onto the intact couch
cushion. Beads of sweat dotted his brow and lip; his face had taken
on the greenish hue of someone about to be ill. "Did you get hit by
some debris or something?"

"Or something, I'm pretty sure I was shot,"
Carl mumbled.

"What!" Riley cried.

She hurried to Carl's side and dropped to
her knees in front of him. Donald and Mary Ellen crept out of the
corner but the both of them still looked as if they were about to
pass out at any moment. Neither of them had made a move to try and
clean themselves up, but there wasn't anything they could use
within this room anyway. Victor remained unmoving on the floor,
oblivious to the pool of Peter's blood creeping steadily closer to
him.