The dawn had crept over the horizon and brought with it an end to the torrential downpour of the night. The fine mist of rain that persisted in falling peppered the morning air with a chill, but the crisp morning light promised a warmer day to come.
Mark walked carefully down the steps, his eyes fixed on the insentient form of the man who had caused so much havoc and destruction. His unmoving form was stained red with spilled blood, and his leg was twisted at an odd angled that to Mark's trained eye instantly signified a fracture. Mark felt strangely removed from the situation, and an apathy towards the man's suffering that his caring nature was unaccustomed to. He paused above his crumpled figure, then stooped down and placed two fingers to the side of his neck feeling for a pulse.
"Mark, what are you doing?" Amanda's voice was hoarse and told of her exhaustion.
"He's still alive" said Mark, pushing himself to his feet.
"So?" Steve snapped, a renewed pounding in his head reducing his tolerance to zero.
"Just leave him there, we can send someone to collect his body later." The bitterness in his voice was palpable as he eyed the man with absolute disgust.
"We'll take him with us."
"What?" Amanda and Steve spoke in unison.
"We can't leave him here. He'll die."
"Good! He deserves to die after what he's done!" Steve barked viciously.
"Steve I know he deserves to be punished…"
"Punished? Punished? He deserves to be left there to rot – to die in the cold and dirt, alone!"
"No." Mark's voice sounded much harsher than he had intended.
"No, he's not going to die. You're better than that Steve, we all are. We'll take him to the hospital and then the courts can deal with him…" Mark's voice was shaky as he continued, "He has to live so he can pay for what he's done. He's not getting out of it so easily." Mark could feel his heart pounding against his chest as he finished.
With a defiant look at Steve and Amanda he crouched down again placed a hand under each of the man's shoulders. He hauled him up slightly and began dragging him towards the jeep, not caring that the unmannerly transit would no doubt cause a great deal of pain should the man regain consciousness.
Stopping a few feet from the car Mark released his grip on the man, whose body fell limply to the floor.
The jeep stood desolate in the courtyard. Bathed in the dim light that signified the end of night but was a precursor to the true onset of morning, it looked small, doleful.
Mark found himself walking almost mechanically towards the jeep. He felt a sense of cold dread gripping at his stomach and he wanted nothing more than to avoid having to face what lay before him. His mind screamed at him to turn back to the house but his legs continued to carry him forwards, closer and closer to the car.
Unaware of how closely his actions were mimicking those of the man who now lay bleeding at his feet, he extended a hand to the car and ran his fingers lightly over the slick surface.
Alone. He's in there all alone…
The gentle touch of Amanda's hand on his shoulder startled him from his reverie. She smiled at him sadly and offered the car keys to his outstretched hand. He took them and slowly opened the door. Standing back, a hollow feeling radiating through his body at the heart breaking sight of Jesse's still form laying prone across the back set of the vehicle.
Steeling himself he ducked his head and stepped into the car, resting onto the seat opposite Jesse.
For a moment he observed him. His skin was pale, tinged blue and almost transparent. One arm lay across his chest, his fingers curled into his fist, the other hung limply off the seat.
Mark reached forwards and took it in his own, pained to feel how cold it was. He wrapped his fingers around Jesse's icy hand in a futile attempt to warm it, the need to do something constructive overwhelming.
"I'm so sorry." Mark whispered. He felt as though he had lost a son.
"You're hurt." Amanda spoke, breaking the silence that had crept over them in the past few minutes.
"What?" Steve spoke distractedly, his eyes fixed on the jeep. From the position he stood he was unable to see inside the car, and whilst he desperately wanted to be with Jesse he couldn't bring himself to move closer.
"Your neck… and arm. You're bleeding."
"Oh, oh… uh… yeah." He raised one hand subconsciously to his throat where the man had slashed him with the knife earlier in the kitchen. The flow of blood had already been stemmed by coagulation at the sight of the cut and the trail had dried thickly to his skin.
"Can I take a look?" Amanda went to tilt Steve's head backward to examine the wound, but Steve jerked his head away from her touch.
"It's fine, ok? Just leave it." He snapped.
"Ok, sorry. Can I look at your arm at least? It's still bleeding." She took his arm in her hands but was immediately shrugged off.
"Amanda will you stop fussing! I said I'm fine, now leave me alone."
Amanda stepped backward, obviously hurt by his outburst.
"I was just trying to…"
"I don't care what you were trying to do. Don't you get it? It doesn't matter. Don't you care? Don't you care what's happened?"
"Of course I care!" Amanda bellowed. "You're not the only one upset, okay? I'm just… I mean… I don't know what to do!" She wrung her hands and dropped to her knees.
"I don't know what to do." Her whispered voice broke into wracking cries and Steve felt overcome with guilt as he watched Amanda sobbing into her hands.
Without a word he dropped to her side and wrapped his arms around her slender body, pulling her close. For a moment she was tense but she slowly relaxed into his embrace, her body trembling.
Steve held her without saying a word, gently rocking back and forth in a soothing, swaying motion.
He didn't know what to say. If there were words to ease the overwhelming sense of grief that Amanda felt he wished someone would say them to him too. But there were none.
Through sheer necessity of finding some mechanism to cope by, Mark found himself flitting subconsciously into the professional manner that he normally employed on his patients. Resting Jesse's hand back onto his chest he smoothed down the blood stained shirt over the knife wound as he would before presenting the body of a patient to a loved-one; the vague thought of following procedure lurking in the recesses of his mind.
Casting an eye over Jesse's motionless body he paused on his pale face. The lines of pain that had tortured his smooth features earlier had all but vanished, their subtle remnants leaving the faintest of creases on his skin.
Mark absorbed this sight greedily, hoping that he could one day convince himself that Jesse had died peacefully, the pain of his injuries having left him to slip away quietly.
He raised a hand and gently placed two fingers on the crook of Jesse's neck, the formal routine of declaring death forcing his hand in an automated, robotic fashion. Looking down at his watch he felt a sudden lurch in his stomach.
Could it be? Was it real?
Mark dropped to his knees, the rough rubber matting of the jeep digging into his flesh.
Rubbing his fingers clumsily as if to try and clear them of any lingering sensation Mark again pressed his fingers to Jesse's neck.
He waited, shifting the position of his fingers to ensure they were properly placed.
The faintest of pulsations fluttered at his fingertips.
He's alive.
The realisation hit him as readily as if he had been struck physically, knocking his breath from his body.
He inhaled jaggedly, his breath catching at the back of his throat.
"Steve… Amanda…" His voice came out in barely a whisper, in no way loud enough to be heard by anyone but himself.
Fumbling awkwardly to his feet Mark stood abruptly, knocking his head sharply on the roof of the jeep. Ignoring the heat that radiated through his scalp he clambered from the car.
"Steve, Amanda!"
At the sound of his father's voice Steve pulled back from Amanda, releasing her from his strong embrace.
The tone of his voice had again sparked a concerned reaction in his mind, and he wondered immediately what else could possibly have happened.
"He's alive. Jesse…" With that he turned and hurried back to the vehicle, disappearing inside.
Steve was on his feet in an instant, swaying unsteadily but ignoring his instability as he faltered towards his jeep. Amanda jumped up and followed him, her heart thudding painfully hard against her chest.
The door to the jeep framed the scene within in an almost picturesque way.
Mark leant over Jesse, examining him closely.
"He's breathing, but only just. We need to get out of here now."
Steve stared, transfixed.
"But he said…" He couldn't believe it. Jesse was alive? The man had said he was dead…
"There are no discernible chest movements, he probably just assumed… It doesn't matter now anyway. Can you drive?"
Steve found it difficult to comprehend the situation. He had been so certain Jesse was dead, but now…
"Steve? We need to leave. Can you drive or not?" Mark motioned emphatically at Steve, pointing at both his head and his wrist.
The frantic movements seemed to snap Steve from his musings and he shook his head as if trying to clear it.
"What? Oh, uh… yeah, yeah I can drive." Steve allowed his eyes to linger for a moment more on Jesse before he pulled himself away, almost tripping over the prone form of the man who lay sprawled in the sodden dirt.
Steve glanced down at him and fought desperately against the urge to kick the man as he felt so strongly inclined to.
"What are we supposed to do with him?"
Steve glanced up to see Amanda was also eyeing the man with an expression he could interpret only as loathing, voicing what he himself had just begun to wonder.
Mark peered down at the man,
"He'll have to go in the passenger seat, there's no room in the back." He spoke so matter-of-factly that for a moment Steve didn't comprehend exactly what it was that he was saying.
"What? You want to take him with us?!" Steve's renewed incredulity sparked a glimmer of annoyance in Mark who was anxious to leave and he turned on him savagely.
"For once in your life will you just do as I say without questioning me! I know what he's done but we are not leaving him here, so put him in the car because we need to leave!" With that he turned back to the car leaving Steve standing shell-shocked in his wake.
Steve felt a flush of embarrassment creep up his face and he looked up to see Amanda eyeing him uncertainly, a look of compassion on her face.
Misconstruing this as pity Steve felt an instant blaze of anger towards both his father and Amanda and he glared at Amanda before turning away in disgust.
Bending down to the man Steve gruffly grasped handfuls of his bloodied clothing. A bolt of pain detonating in his wrist as his careless action placed a stress on his damaged wrist that he would have been well to have avoided.
Literally slinging the man back to the floor he gripped his wrist and cursed in pain and annoyance.
Gripping the man again, this time with only his right hand, he began to drag him round to the passenger side of the jeep, muttering to himself underneath his breath.
Blaming me… He doesn't deserve to live, should die in the dirt…
But at the same time as he mumbled his grievances at the unfairness of the situation, the small voice in his head whispered recriminations at him, taunting him for his failures that had almost, and could still, cost his best friend his life.
You had the chance to stop him and you failed. He held a knife to your father's throat and you did nothing to let him do it…
Trying to ignore the black cloud of depression that began to form around him Steve continued to haul the man through the mud, a tight-band of tension locked around his head. It increased the drumming of pain that coursed through his head in a rhythmic beat, swelling with every movement he made.
Dropping him to the floor without a care, Steve pulled open the passenger door. He hesitated for a moment before leaning into the car and pulling open the glove compartment. Reaching inside he emerged with a pair of handcuffs, the heavy-duty metal cold after a night of stormy weather.
With the use of only one hand available to him, Steve struggled clumsily to fix the handcuffs around the man's wrists, but achieving his aim he smiled vengefully, finally feeling that he was exacting the role he should have hours ago.
Amanda stood back and watched as Steve struggled to force the man's body into the jeep. She knew she should help yet felt strangely reluctant to near the man. She felt oddly disoriented, as though nothing was real and that everything she knew and believed in had been turned upside-down. Although she knew it was ridiculous she wanted desperately to freeze everything that was happening as if it were a video that she could eject and dismiss as fantasy before returning to her reality. But she knew she couldn't, knew she had to interact in the activity that was playing out before her if there was any hope of bringing it to an end.
Berating herself for her own weakness Amanda steadied herself with a deep breath before making her way over to Steve.
The man's body was currently half-in, half-out of the jeep, his upper body prostrate across the leather seats whilst his legs hung limply to the floor.
Without a word Amanda leant into the car and pulled the man's body into sitting position, just as Steve managed to swing his legs into the foot well.
Steve stood, breathing rather more heavily than could be attributed to the task he had just carried out. Amanda noticed that his normally tanned face had taken on a pale, waxy tone and a green tinge played around his lips.
"Thanks" he gasped, beads of sweat pooling on his temples. He turned and walked back towards the driver's side of the jeep, leaning heavily onto it as he went.
Amanda knew that she should question Steve's ability to drive, but she couldn't bring herself to raise yet another complication to a situation already saturated with them.
Silently she walked around the car and climbed into the back of the jeep to join Mark in his care of Jesse.
Steve sat stiffly in the driver's seat. He peered into the rear-view mirror at his father and Amanda, their expressions strained.
Turning the key in the ignition he revved the engine, and after releasing the hand-brake he accelerated slowly towards the driveway and away from the house.