Chapter One: Four blocks
.
.
.
.
Jacks POV:
Marla stands there and holds my hand as we watch the buildings fall. Together we watch what I assume is Tyler's best laid plan play out.
Dust, rubble, debri and countless papers flutter down like strange confetti. Tomorrow some ones gonna be cursing the fact he put in those extra hours at the office to get that paper work all caught up.
"What the hell do you do?!" She whispers as we watch the last of it settle.
"Dynamite." That's the only word I can choke out. I feel so tired, so drained. I just wanna lay down and sleep. Maybe I could do it here? It's all over. Tyler's gone.
Tyler's gone.
I killed him!
What am I going to do?.
Marla squeezes my hand, looking me in the eyes.
" Are we on the run from the fuzz?"
I shake my head no, yes, maybe. I don't know. I finish finally. I can barley speak; my voice is nothing but a whisper.
"We've got to get out of here." Marla says suddenly. "The fuzz is bound to show up soon."
Marla. That's right.
I had completely forgotten she was there, at the realization of her presence my hand instantly became warm where our skin met.
I cant die now! There after Marla! If I give up now they'll get her. I don't know what they intend to do but I'm sure Tyler said she was a threat to the project.
How do people normally deal with threats?
"Tyler!!" She pulls at my hand, hard. That's right. She still thinks I'm him. "Please! Get up! You're scaring me!"
I wonder why until I realize I've crumpled to my knees. When did that happen?
"It's the space monkeys I think we have to worry about."
"What?"
"Tyler's men-My men." I correct my self. "They want you dead."
"What?!"
"There's more. When they find out I've gone awal there going to be trying to kill me too, I'm sure. They already tried to chop off my nut sack."
She giggles loudly. I'm both amused and pissed. "What?" I bark.
"Well than you'd have a reason to bawl all over Bob in 'remaing men'."
"Bob's dead."
"oh." Were both silent until: "We need to get out of here, get you fixed up and than your explaining all of this to me or I swear I'm shooting you in the other cheek, got it?"
I nod.
Good.
I'm glad she says 'we'. I'm glad she understands were in this together. They probably'll be gunning for her just as much as me. It would be too hard if she still wanted to fight me on this.
I notice she's picked up my discarded gun from the floor. She pulls opens it, counting. "You have two bullets. Would you be willing to shoot one of those fuckers if it comes down to it?"
I hesitate, unsure. Would I?
"Never mind. I'll hold the gun." She flicks on the safety, tucking it out of sight in the band of her under wear and skirt.
Marla takes my hand and we walk down the steps. I see no one. I'm looking cautiously down the steps when she pulls away. I don't turn to look what for.
I think I see someone moving but, no, it's just the shadow of a flag outside.
She catches my hand in hers and we walk out the door and are instantly in another world.
The air is gray with dust of concrete and plaster and what other shit was in those buildings. Smoke and ash dance about. Small fires are everywhere.
I can barely breathe.
Ash is raining down from the sky from one of the buildings. It didn't topple, instead it's a two hundred foot torch blazing into the air, the crackle of the flames sound like there whispering Tyler's mantras.
We both pull our shirts over or mouths and noses. My eyes water and I feel a piece of ash land in my eye. The fabric of my shirt rubs the wound in my cheek.
I grit my teeth so I don't scream.
Marla pulls me along, winding expertly through the throng of people who have gathered out side among the wreckage.
The hospital is four blocks away.
Marla's POV:
Why am I doing this? I shake my head. I can't believe this. I always do this and I always regret it.
I tell my self im done and I wont put up with his shit any more than he finds me ion a random street.
I still tell my self its over. I pretended not to care what he had to say and got on that bus than there I was back, back by him and he's doing his lost puppy routine and I fall for it.
Here I am, walking hand in hand with a man who just blew up four or five buildings than shot himself, and the funny thing is I'm content, well more so than when I'm alone.
Two more blocks.
I hope Tyler can make it. He sways and I put an arm around his waist. 'don't fall down' I think. I don't wanna have to figure out if I can lug him that far.
He stops. I smile at him. God. He looks horrible. I tell him he's fine and we only have a little way to go and as we start moving again I sigh. Why fight it? So what if I always go for the damaged, screwed in the head men?
Maybe that's what I need so why should I worry about it. I can give him another chance. Ok, so he's a terrorist. Ok, so he has the worst case of bi-polar disorder I've ever seen but, I think, as long as he sticks around I wouldn't mind it for a while
Jacks POV:
I'm tired and beaten. I've lost a lot of blood. Every nerve in my body is screaming.
Once were far enough away we can breath again we pause to catch our breath. We both look like we just waked through a snowstorm.
I stumble and she pulls me close to steady me. We stand there until my legs feel less like jelly.
I'm genuinely glad Marla is pulling me along. If it was just me, if it was up to me to walk all this way 'd just lay down and sleep.
I know if I do that I probably wouldn't wake up.
"Come on!" Marla looks upset. "Tyler, please! Only a little farther!"
I'm too tired to tell her not to call me Tyler.
I can't think. I don't know why she's so upset until I realize I've sat down in the middle of the sidewalk.
She tugs me to my feet and tries to pull me along. Her petit frame isn't much use for that and she ends up frustrated and yelling at me.
I wanna give up.
Tyler's gone.
I wanna sleep.
I killed him!
What am I going to do?
Maybe it would be better if I died right here.
It wouldn't take anything. I know.
All I'd have to do is close my eyes.
What was there to live for anyways?
I can't give up.
Marla's here and Marla needs me.
I force my self to take step after star after step.
I focus only on the next step until Marla smiles, squeezing my hand. "We're here Tyler, your gonna be ok!"
We walk in. The bright lights seem to scald my eyes.
"Shit!" I mumble.
"What?"
"I don't have my I.D.!" I don't know why this thought makes it through.
"What?! Where is it?!"
"In my pants," It hurts to move my jaw. I can't keep my eyes open. "Probably in the rubble."
"Oh! Is this it?"
I crack my eyes open to watch her fish through the pockets of her hideous feathered coat and pull out-
"My wallet!" I rasp out. "How-?"
"I saw it sticking out of a pair of pants when we where coming down the steps. I didn't know it was yours."
I only catch half of that. I can't seem to keep my balance.
Marla's POV:
Poor Tyler, he's hurt bad, worse than I've ever seen him. He's not cocky and flirty or cold and bothered. No. He's just standing here, blank, swaying where he stands.
It's no wonder though. I can't believe he made it this far. I wonder why he shot himself. Suicide? That's the only reason I can think of.
I won't let him.
He saved me and I'll save him. I wont let him give up.
I watch him nervously as he sways where he's standing, his eyes close and than he topples. I barley catch him. Here we are standing at the polished entrance to the hospital and no one notices.
I look around. Why is no one looking? Everyone's busy, moving, zooming about and trying to do something. They don't have time to look up
"Help!" I call out, I don't know what else to do. It feels about as taboo as screaming in a library. A nurse catches sight of us and instantly runs for something. I hope it's a stretcher or a doctor, preferably both.
I know how bad we must look. Were covered in ash and he's covered in blood. My makeup's smudged and I'm sure my hairs a mess.
Jack shivers in my hands.
All other thoughts leave me and I hold him close, pleading with him in my head not to leave me
I don't want to be alone. I don't want him to die and leave me alone. Every one I'm close to die.
"Don't disappear." I whisper in his ear, I feel tears sting my eyes. I don't let them fall. "Don't die like my great grand parents and my grand parents and my real farther and my best friend from high school and…" I stop talking but the list goes on in my head.
I'm cursed.
If I'm close to them they die.
'Please.' I plead silently with god. 'Don't add him to the list in my head. '
A doctor crouches down, lifting him from my arms with no effort. "We'll take care of him ma'am." He says. I nod dully, not knowing quite what to do. His wallets till in my hand, I bite my lip and sit in a chair. I'm the only person in the waiting room.
I finger the cross around my neck and wait.
.
.
.
.
Authors note: please comment!