New Jersey was driving down the dirt road from the camp, so far he was eight miles away, but he wanted it to be eight hundred.
He was a total mess, bleeding, covered in mud, tears rolling down his blank set face...his mind a reck.
But everything was empty right now, he was hurting to much.
He kept his hands on the wheel, his eyes straight ahead and his shotgun laying on the seat beside him.
He was driving back to where he had first found Michael, he really didn't know why of all places he wanted to go back there, but that was the city he had been raised in...the place he knew the best, and maybe if things were still bad there he would go to that island Michael always talked about...maybe even die there.
It was crazy, but it kept him going.
He checked his rearview mirror, and kept driving...when he saw it.
A jeep, parked to the side of the road.
He started to slow down, his free hand reached for his shotgun, his eyes alert.
He stopped the truck and put the keys in his pocket, he scanned it and the jeep was facing him, no one seemed to be in it.
What if it was a trap?
But before he could think things through, he opened the door and with his set look, he walked with the shotgun over one shoulder and slowly walked towards the jeep.
As he walked forward he noticed something...right behind it, an arm.
He stopped dead and saw the arm laying just in sight, lifeless and bloody, dust covered the wounds.
He looked around and then walked towards it, when he reached the back of the truck he froze and looked down.
It was Utopia.
The words of the men rang through his head again.
"Which one should get the chains?"
Utopia laid sprawled out on the ground like a rag doll, her long blond beautiful hair was now two shades darker from blood and dirt, it hid part of her beaten and swelling face which looked as dusty as the road itself.
Her blouse had been torn open, revealing her breasts, which looked as if they had been stabbed and bruised, scratches and drops of blood seemed to trace her whole upper body.
Then her jeans, they were just as dirty and as recked as his were, but once he saw her ankles...he almost puked again.
Wrapped around her tied legs were barb wire, it wrapped all around her legs, it's sharp coiled wire digging through the cloth of her jeans and into her flesh.
Blood seemed to be splattered everywhere.
The barb wire was linked together with a heavy set chain which was tied to the back of the jeep.
He saw how much blood there was, and then his eyes traced a few feet away from her body...there were traces of blood all over the road.
What they had done after they shot him, was drag her outside of the camp kicking and screaming, they then raped her like animals...and then wrapped the barb wire around her legs and hooked it up to the chain on the back of the truck.
They dragged her around the roads for hours, going as fast as they could.
He shut his eyes and then slowly lowered himself down.
He scanned her beaten body and saw what they had done to her.
It made everything inside him hurt.
He looked at her as a friend, and as the girl he had fallen in love with.
This heavy feeling in his chest wasn't going away.
He then reached out and touched her bloody dirt covered cheek with his hand, trying to feel that soft skin he found himself staring at for hours.
Once he touched her...she moved, he almost fell backwards.
Her eyelids slowly fluttered open and she gazed up at him, her eyes cloudy looking.
"Jersey..." She coughed and a bubble of blood came up and she spit down her chin, Jersey used the back of his hand to wipe her mouth and came closer.
"Don't worry Utopia, I'm gonna untie you...just hold on."
"I...I thought you were dead." She muttered, his mind raced around...what was he going to do, she was hurt bad, and she seemed as if only half of her was still there.
He then moved to the side and sat down on the road, he slowly reached out, finding his own hands shaking, and pulled her body slowly into his lap, she moaned in pain and tears started to pour down his face.
Once he got her in his arms, he kissed her head and kept saying sorry.
He covered her chest and rocked her back and forth, telling her he wasn't going to let anything happen to her.
She then looked up at him, the two locking eyes and a slight smile came across her face.
"Your going to that island Michael talked about huh?"
"Maybe, if it's still there."
"Take me with you New Jersey..."
He kissed her head again
"Of course I will baby."
"No...I mean take me in there..."
Her finger slowly rose up, slightly shaking and then touched where his heart was.
Jersey sniffled in.
He held her tighter, as her voice became softer and softer.
"New Jersey, is that your real name?"
Jersey smiled through his tears.
"Yeah, that's where my parents met...so my named me after it."
She smiled back.
"What about you?" He asked.
"Mary...my names Mary..." She then cut off, and her eyes seemed to turn a soft gray, then her head went to one side...and just like that she was gone.
Jersey sat there for what seemed like forever, in the middle of the dirt road, holding her body.
He was all alone again.
After a while, his tears made it harder to see, but he bent down and closed her eyes.
Then...there was a noise, a cough.
His ears picked it up right away.
He looked around, then heard it again...behind him.
He slowly turned and then saw a pair of legs sticking out of the back seat of the jeep.
His eyes became dark, and yet again his mind went empty.
He slowly slid up and took his shot gun, and walked towards the legs.
He stood in front of them, and looked it...it was the leader of the gang, all by himself, drunk as a skunk.
Jersey's eyes cut through him.
Then the leader's eyes slowly opened, half drunk and half awake.
He then saw Jersey and his eyes became wider.
"What the fuck, I thought we killed you!"
Jersey then screamed and rose the shotgun over his head, and brought all his force to bring to wooden handle of the gun down on the man.
He brought it down again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again.
Blood splashed everyone, on his face and all over his clothes.
He kept screaming.
It went down again, and again, and again, and again, and again.
Then he stopped, the body shook for a moment, then stopped.
He threw the gun down and went behind and untied Utopia.
With her body in his arms, he walked away from the jeep, across the road and into yet another field, by then the sun looked as if it was starting to turn a dim orange.
He sunk down on his knees, and used his bare hands to dig the grave, his hands and nails were torn...but the pain wasn't there anymore, he dug, and dug for what seemed like hours, the fresh sent of soil filled his nose.
He then took a blanket from his truck and wrapped Utopia in it.
Before laying her down in the grave, he brushed some of her hair away and kissed her one last time on her lips.
"Goodbye Mary." He said and then buried her.
It was nightfall by the time he had finnished, he then got back into his truck, put on the highbeams and drove off into the night, praying to God that the island that Michael had talked about was still there, because he wanted just to arrive on the beach, take an extra gun he had...and stick it in his mouth.
He didn't have a reason to live any more.