I am very gracious indeed.  Here I am, giving you another chapter a mere day after the last one was posted.  Karma points for Cop!  Sure, it's probably one of the least happy chapters yet, but that's what I'm good at.  I was in the zone on this one.  It is pretty short, though.  Ah well, and update is an update.

Oh and writer-always-n-forever, I picked your idea for a road name.  *balloons fall and confetti is thrown*

Not much else to say, since the last chapter was posted yesterday.  Keep in mind though, the other updates will take longer, unless I get more lucky breaks (ex:  a game that I was supposed to ref gets cancelled), which don't happen very often.  Now you see why I need the karma points.

Review responses then:

Wiccan-One14:  Yay!  You liked it!  So did I.  Windshield wipers are mean, aren't they?  Thanks for the review!

Jane and Adam:  Nice pen name!  You can have a piece of candy for being a new reader, and because your name makes me happy.  *gives you a piece of candy*

hgill:  You have the second most reviews on this story.  *throws more confetti* Killing people?  Hmm… *laughs evilly* And yay for parents getting suspicious.  Mine are TOO suspicious, however.  Ah well.

Oh, and by the way, the second (and last) part of this chapter is my favorite part of the story so far.  So…yeah.  I just wanted to tell you that.

DISCLAIMER:  I only own Victor Barry, the semi driver from chapter one, and I don't even own his name.  I will give cookies and ice cream to anyone who can figure out which two people he is named after.  You won't get it unless you have some knowledge of the first and second season of the X-Files.  I know you people are out there.

~Cop~

*        *        *        *

Soundtrack of Sorrow

Chapter Eight:  For Jane

The mood surrounding the foursome was not a happy one.  It hadn't started raining again, but none of the hourly news broadcasts so much as mentioned their predicament.

The sun was setting, casting ominous shadows over the landscape.  Adam was awake again, and was staring at the roof of the cave in silence.  He wasn't bleeding as much, but he was still far too pale for comfort, and his fever was slowly getting worse.  Joan was beside him, quietly humming the tune to the song on the radio, her fingers laced through Adam's.  Luke was restacking the pile of firewood for about the thousandth time, and Grace was outside, angrily throwing rocks at the car.

By the time Grace came back inside, three more songs had played, and the seven o' clock news announcements were beginning to be broadcasted.

"Hilary Hughes, principal of the local Harrison High School, was caught shoplifting a shower curtain yesterday-"

"Quite the system they have running here," Grace said, smirking.  Luke hushed her, and they listened to the next story.

"A family of ducks was found inside a second-grade classroom this morning.  The animal control officer-"

"This is crap," Grace said, rolling her eyes.  "I can't believe they actually waste our time-"

She fell silent when the radio announcer spoke again.

"The driver of the semi-truck that crashed early yesterday morning on Graywood Road is still unconscious after the accident.  Victor Barry's vehicle was the only one involved in the crash, the cause of which has not yet been determined.  The doctors report that his condition is-"

Luke shut the radio off.

"We were on Graywood," Adam said quietly, his eyes closed.  "They don't know we're gone."

Joan and Luke exchanged worried glances, and Grace swore loudly. 

"How long are we going to be stuck out here?" Grace questioned angrily.

"But Grace, aren't you having fun?" Adam asked her, with as much of a smile as he could manage.

Grace sighed.  "You know what, Rove?  It doesn't matter how much blood you're lost, we don't need your sarcasm.  And shouldn't you be asleep or something?"

"I'm fine, Grace," he told her softly.

"I'll believe that when I start having fun out here," Grace stated impatiently.  "You're hurt.  Things aren't going to get any better unless we get out of here soon."

"It's not that bad," Adam said with a slight cough.

"Adam," Joan said pleadingly.  He glanced over at her. 

"I said I'm okay, Jane," he said firmly.  The look in his eyes told her that he wanted to believe it.

Joan finally convinced him that he needed rest, and got him to swallow another mouthful of water, and within two minutes he was asleep again.  Joan placed her hand on his warm forehead, and frowned.  She got up and beckoned to Grace and Luke to follow her outside.

"How do you think he's doing?" she asked them as they stood on the riverbank, shivering in the evening breeze.

Luke shook his head.  "Not well.  He's trying to not let it get to him, but…"

"He doesn't want everyone to worry," Grace told them, "and he especially doesn't want to upset you," she added, nodding towards Joan.

"What else are we going to do besides worry?" Joan demanded.  "I mean, look at him.  He barely even looks alive."  She sniffed a little as she made this last remark.

Grace could plainly see what Joan was talking about.  Adam's skin looked nearly white, which greatly contrasted with the dark red of his blood.  His breaths were uneven, and he tossed his head every few moments, pain etched, on his pale face.  Joan slowly re-entered the cave and knelt down beside him, pushing his hair away from his forehead with her uninjured hand.  His fever was steadily growing, and sweat beaded his forehead.

Joan could sense the presence of her brother and best friend as they stood behind her.

"Will he make it?" she questioned to anyone who might be listening.

She was glad when she didn't receive an answer.

*        *        *

Adam knew that he was dying.  There was just something build into the brain that let you know when you didn't' have to much time left.  A rather depressing notification, yet very informative.

He definitely didn't wasn't to die.  After all, he was only eighteen.  He still had so much that he wanted to do; so much to live for.  His father, for instance.  If Adam were to die, there would be nothing left for his dad to hold on to.  Not even the hope that things would get better.

And then there was Jane.  He'd wanted to wake up beside her every morning for the rest of his life, which didn't seem to be too much longer.  There were so many things that he wanted to see and do with her, things that would never happen should he pass on.  For him, this wouldn't serve as a problem, since death erased all guilt.  Jane, however, would be punished.  She would always be without him, and he would spend eternity in blissful oblivion.

There were other things, too.  Grace, who had bee his closest friend for as long as he could remember.  His art, which was his one true method of expression.  Even those simple pleasures, like eating pizza or sleeping in on Saturdays.  All of those things he would have to do without.  Of course, pizza wouldn't miss him, but Grace would.

Finally, and perhaps most of all, to die would mean to admit defeat; to give up.  His mother had given up.  As much as he admired and respected his mother, that was the one thing that Adam despised about her.  That she was able to take all off those things into consideration, and still go out of her way to abandon them all.  To abandon him.  He could never do that to someone that he loved.  Ever.

No, he would hold on.  For Jane.

*TBC*