Tally-Marks
"Everyone ready?" Travis asked, glancing round at them all, trying and failing to feign a confidence he didn't feel.
Lourdes bit her lip as everyone nodded, faces bloodless, shoulders tense. Travis nodded in turn, before taking that final step, opening the door into the unknown. Almost immediately, a group of hooded men swarmed the shop, Daniel and his family managing to break through the flood of bodies, stumbling into the street outside, Chris caught inbetween, Travis trapped against the wall. But Lourdes was swept further back into the shop, Liza frantically grabbing the back of her t-shirt, only to find her fingers closing around empty air.
"Lo!" Liza screamed, rushing forwards, only to be shoved backwards, crashing into one of the barber's chairs.
Lourdes was only aware of an almost emptiness beneath her feet, like she was being taken by the tide, the current carrying her away. But then she was being slammed against the wooden wall, the brick beneath burning into the back of her neck, forcing her head up, only to find a face inches from hers, bright green eyes boring into her own.
"What have we here, boys? And the night's only young" -
"So pretty" -
- "C'mon, man, we don't do this shit" -
- "Says who?"
As they argued, their voices muffled by the bandanas wrapped around their faces, Lourdes dimly heard her father shouting, Liza screaming, Daniel yelling in the doorway – And then her blood-splattered t-shirt was suddenly torn open from the neck-line down, bringing Lourdes back to life, the blade from her back pocket just as suddenly flashing through the air, slashing her attacker's face. As he doubled up in agony, screaming, clutching his cheek, Lourdes dived forwards, only to collide with Chris who shoved her behind him, one of the men making to grab her, Chris slamming a cut-throat razor into his shoulder.
"Run!" Travis bellowed, his voice almost hoarse from yelling, his dark eyes wild. "Goddamn fucking run!"
Liza hauled Lourdes outside, cursing and crying in Spanish, Chris on their heels, Travis punching one of their pursuers in the face, before turning tail. As they ran, fighting their way through the crowd, Lourdes glanced up, only to find Ofelia by her side, Daniel and Griselda some distance behind. Ofelia's gaze travelled downwards, her eyes widening, hand flying to her mouth, but Travis only pushed her onwards, sending her crashing into Chris, who caught her with an impatient hand, steadying her.
"Come on!" Travis hollered, trying to hold himself together, even as he was falling apart. "Head for the fucking truck!"
As Liza dragged Lourdes down a flight of steps, Lourdes felt her face becoming increasingly wet, only to realise with vague surprise she was crying, the tears falling thick and fast, obscuring her vision. But Liza was merciless, dragging her daughter on, Travis herding Ofelia and Chris onwards, shooting frantic glances over his shoulder at the straggling Daniel and Griselda.
"Dad!?" Chris called out, slowing to a stop, his horrified gaze becoming drawn downwards.
But Travis barely glanced at the police officer being eaten alive in front of them, only thinking of getting his family out of hell, the flames threatening to devour their flesh before the dead did. "Keep moving!" Travis bellowed, shoving Chris forwards, making him stumble.
"Fucking Mary Mother of fucking God!" Liza yelled, pulling Lourdes away, almost yanking her arm out of her socket.
Sirens screamed, the distant beat of marching feet coming closer and closer, Travis catching the glint of riot shields through the smoke choking the air. "This way!" he shouted, waving his arm at Daniel and Griselda, indicating for them to follow him.
With Travis leading the way, they sprinted down a wide walkway, heading towards some abandoned roadworks, people scrambling up onto the scaffolding overhead, making it shake threateningly. Travis slowed down at the sight, but there was no way round it, forcing them to fight their way through the crowd scaling the scaffolding like children with a climbing frame, Travis and the others almost becoming entangled in a web of bodies and bars.
But just as they made it to the other side, there was a sudden chorus of screams, then a huge crash, making them all whirl around, only to see Daniel lying on the concrete, having flung himself clear of the falling scaffolding, Griselda caught in the chaos, her leg trapped beneath some heavy poles and planks of wood.
"Mama!" Ofelia screamed, rushing back, tearing herself out of Travis's hold.
"Come on!" Chris yelled, going after her, the others immediately following.
"Get back!" Travis bellowed, pushing Ofelia aside, so he, Daniel and Chris could clear the debris from Griselda; Lourdes and Liza grabbing a pole at each end, half rolling, half lifting it clear. Travis then lifted Griselda up into his arms, ignoring her sharp cry of pain, before frantically heading in the direction of his parked truck, Griselda's weight slowing his stride down, the truck seeming to recede from him.
"Lourdes, get the truck started," Liza snapped, shoving the keys into her daughter's hand, the metal biting into Lourdes's palm, "Chris, go with her."
The two teenagers sprinted ahead, throwing themselves into the front seat, Lourdes grabbing the steering wheel for support as she shoved the key into the ignition, trying and failing to steady her trembling hands. Then the door to her side was suddenly flung open, making Lourdes's head snap up, expecting the enemy, only to find her father filling the doorframe.
"Move over," Travis said abruptly, "I'll drive."
Lourdes slid into the centre of the seat, becoming wedged between Travis and Chris, their closeness lending her a brief comfort.
"Where's Mom?" Chris demanded, his voice oddly high, making him sound very young for a moment.
"She's in the back with the others," Travis snapped, his tormented gaze falling upon Lourdes's torn t-shirt, the fabric flapping wide open, exposing the gingham patterned brassiere underneath. "My baby girl," he whispered, reaching for her, only for his hand to fall to his side, "my poor baby girl, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry"-
Somebody thumped the roof, making Travis jerk violently, his knee battering off the underside of the dashboard.
"Dad," Lourdes said, trying to cover herself up, humiliation and hot shame coursing over her, "just drive, please!?"
Travis kicked the engine into life, wildly swinging the vehicle round, making Lourdes and Chris crash into each other, the throng outside trying and failing to stop the truck in its tracks, refusing to let it leave their twisted party.
"Here," Chris said quietly to Lourdes, pulling his hoodie over his head, before handing it to her, "put this on."
Lourdes wordlessly took it, dragging it over her dark head, the tears still rolling down her face. She stole a glance at Travis, her tears echoed by his, silently spilling down his cheeks. She couldn't believe she'd been in class just that day, the memory now seeming to belong to another life, time becoming tangled in knots. She didn't want to think of Cal or Art; of seeing Tobias walk away from her for probably the last time; of her aching body, the stench of sweat edged with the iron tang of blood. This wasn't her life, but some distant part of her accepted it as thus, that there would be no rest for the wicked now.
"We need a doctor, Trav!" Liza yelled through the back window, but Travis just stared straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge reality.
"This isn't happening," Chris whispered to himself, shaking his head, "it can't be."
As if to prove him wrong, there was the sudden sound of gunshots, making Chris lean forwards, peering through the windscreen. There was a hospital looming ahead, its roof on fire, the smell of smoke acrid in the air. The truck passed an abandoned ambulance, its lights flashing, and for a moment, Lourdes thought her father was going to stop, but he pushed his foot down hard on the pedal, making the truck pick up speed.
"Oh my God," Chris breathed, leaning past Lourdes, craning his neck past Travis's stony profile. "Oh my fucking God."
A row of riot police were firing wildly at a lone hospital patient standing with her arms held wide, almost as if she were coming to embrace them. All around, people were panicking, their screams rising above the sound of sirens, civilians and soldiers running in all directions. As the truck sped past, Lourdes got a glimpse of the hospital patient collapsing like a puppet with its strings suddenly cut, and then it was gone, leaving only an echo of its image burned on her eyelids. And as she sank back in her seat, she realised it wasn't the dead who would defeat the living, but fear.
If I only knew the answer
And if all our days are numbered
Then why do I keep counting…