The Space Between
By
Tru False
Chapter 9It had taken every bit of restraint Don had not to grab Danny and tell him to keep his fucking hands off his brother. Other than that though, Don liked the way things were going. He knew he had Danny's sympathy, and soon he would use it against him.
Don could feel Terry looking at him, but he didn't look back. He knew what she was thinking…he was pushing it too fast, rushing things. But he didn't have the luxury of taking his time. He had to get this going now. If that meant it got ugly with Redd…well, he could handle it. He would do whatever it took to save Charlie.
He reached out with his damaged hand—now that his and Charlie's wrists were cuffed together it made it difficult for Don to use his right—and though the pain was intense, he resumed pressure on the shirt. This time, Charlie didn't even stir.
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"Cool," Lonnie commented with wide eyes as he felt the bullet marks he himself had made on what was now Redd's vest. "I want one."
"Well I tell you what, genius," Redd put his arm around Lonnie and turned him towards the entrance. He pointed at Terry across the distance. "You can have hers—if you can get it off her."
Lonnie blushed at the floor. Redd laughed.
"Lonnie, come over here," Danny said as he approached them.
Immediately, Lonnie took off towards him.
"Come here," he said again as he put his hand on Lonnie's shoulder and drew him to within arm's length, face-to-face. He looked closely at Lonnie.
"I don't want you talking to Redd anymore, you hear me?" he said quietly.
"Why not?" Lonnie asked, also keeping his voice down.
"Because I said so, that's why."
Lonnie looked down at the floor. "But I think he's funny," he ventured after a moment.
Danny's expression softened somewhat. "Hey," he said, and Lonnie looked up at him. "I used to think he was funny too. But he's not. He's just…mean-spirited. I don't want you to like him, understand?" He shifted his hand to the back of Lonnie's neck and gave him a gentle squeeze. "I don't know what's going to happen here, so just…be sure you listen real good to whatever I tell you."
Lonnie nodded at Danny but it was clear he didn't really get it. Danny wasn't worried though. The kid would do what he said—he always did.
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Don was still actively avoiding Terry's eyes, but he couldn't handle looking at the shirt he was holding either because it was slowly turning red. So he took to staring at the ground instead.
A myriad of thoughts and scenarios tumbled through his head and he struggled to focus on one at a time and formulate a clear strategy. So far, all of them had ended badly. It was frustrating…like the one time he really needed to think something through, his mind just wouldn't settle enough for him to do it. It didn't help that his head was throbbing relentlessly and nausea hit him in waves. It would have felt so good to lie down and just close his eyes.
"Don?"
It was barely a whisper, but Don's head snapped up immediately. He found Charlie's eyes, half-open but fixed on him.
"Hey, buddy" Don said gently and smiled. "How you doing?"
Charlie didn't answer that. "What's the plan?" he rasped.
Don gently raised his hand to show Charlie that they were now cuffed together. "Personally, I think they've underestimated you," he said.
The corners of Charlie's mouth turned up slightly. "Most people do," he breathed.
Don smiled. "Yeah." Then he added, "I'm working on something Charlie. I'm gonna get you out of here soon…I promise."
"Good," Charlie whispered, and then grimaced, swallowing God-knows-what down. "…'cause I don't feel good," he finished, struggling to pull in air.
"I know buddy," Don offered.
But the truth was, Don didn't know. He didn't have the slightest idea what it felt like to be shot like that—but he knew how bad it had hurt when he had taken that round in his vest earlier. This had to be a thousand times worse for Charlie, and it made his insides twist just to think about it. He wished he could trade places with him.
"…feel weird," Charlie commented, "like…floating… heavy too." There was a pause as he rasped in a few shallow breaths; "Don, I think…maybe I'm…" he didn't finish the thought. He wouldn't have had a chance to anyway.
"Don't say that," Don's voice cut in firmly as fear gripped him. "Don't even think that way Charlie. We're gonna see this thing through to the end—together…alright?" Don't you dare give up on me, he added mentally.
There was no response.
"Charlie? You promise me Charlie. We're gonna do this together." He actually shook him gently.
Charlie nodded weakly, though his eyes had drifted shut again.
"Okay," Don said, sitting back a little. He was clearly worried. In the world of math and science, Charlie he was tenacious—he never gave up on a solvable problem. But beyond it…well, Charlie didn't exactly have a reputation for seeing things through. Don decided he needed to keep Charlie conscious.
"Hey," he tried a few moments later, "you know in Albuquerque, they have that balloon festival every year?" Charlie gave no response. "I went up once," Don continued, undeterred. "Did I ever tell you about that? Huh Charlie?"
Charlie forced his eyes back open, though they only made it halfway. He shook his head almost imperceptibly.
"Yeah," Don continued, "Well I went up in one. It's pretty nice, you know? Quiet. You can see the Sandias…from up there you can even make out this…this line that runs along the ridge at the top—"
"It's called...the 'Great...Unconformity'," Charlie commented weakly, surprising Don. "…separates Madera group… 320 million years…" he took an obviously painful breath "…old," he forced out in exhaustion, letting his eyes slip shut again.
"Jesus Charlie." Don sounded mildly exacerbated. "Can't I tell you anything?" There was a pause, and when he spoke again, his voice was warm. "Just, humor your big brother a little here, would ya?"
A smile tugged at Charlie's mouth as his eyes cracked open ever so slightly. "Sorry," he rasped.
Don looked at him affectionately. "It's okay. Anyway…"
He talked to Charlie for a long time, about nothing and everything. It was easy to think of things. Sometimes Charlie would drift off, but he would come back around later and listen some more. Occasionally he would smile weakly. One time he laughed a bit, which had caused him to choke again. Don was careful not to be funny after that.
At some point, Don realized with sadness that he had so much to talk about because he hadn't done this in so long. He never really took the time to sit down and just talk to Charlie. As with most brothers, when they were growing up their age difference had been such that the bulk of their conversations centered around Don telling Charlie to leave either him or his stuff alone. When they had gotten older, to the age where most siblings developed an appreciation for each other… Well, Don had moved away and there had been some things; resentment, lots of unspoken feelings and just this tremendous—space that developed between them. It was much more than just the physical distance. Two different worlds, Don's own words rang in his ears.
But not so much here lately…
Don had recently come to understand that in many ways, he was just now getting to know Charlie again. And that made this situation seem all the more unfair. He looked at the clock as it ticked mercilessly away. It had been about forty-five minutes since Charlie was shot. He had to have help soon, or he wasn't going to make it. That was just reality.
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Terry was uncomfortable. Her muscles were beginning to nag at her from being in the same position for so long. The gag was really tight and it dried her mouth out…she was starting to feel like her lips might crack open. But she knew how trivial those complaints were given what was going on around her.
She looked over at Don. He was talking to Charlie and still making it a point to ignore her. She knew why, too. He didn't need her to tell him that he was forcing the situation. Of course, she certainly understood his urgency…Charlie had been bleeding out for almost an hour now. He didn't have long. But still, she prayed that Don would tread lightly. Redd was explosive and unpredictable…it wasn't going to do Charlie any good if Don got himself shot too.
A cell phone rang…one of the hostage's. That caused a commotion in the main area as conflicting instructions were shouted from Danny and Redd as to whether or not the guy should answer it, and what he should or shouldn't say.
A movement caught Terry's eye then, in the periphery of her vision. She looked left… a short, stocky lady with blonde hair had approached the doors. Terry watched as she went to reach for the handle, but then hesitated, peering down at the hand-made sign that read "closed for remodeling" with a quizzical look. Terry looked quickly back to the main counter area—the argument over the phone was peaking as it rang on for the fifth or sixth time. She turned back…the lady was looking back over her shoulder, obviously confused about all the cars in the parking lot and the absence of anything that looked like a builder's van.
Come on Terry willed her, come on…it's suspicious; look in here. Finally, the lady put her hands up to the glass and pressed her face forward, looking inside. Terry saw her eyes come down and meet hers, and the shock on her face was clear. The lady staggered back slightly. Hurry up…Terry silently commanded. The lady put her hand to her chest. Come on you idiot, run! After a moment's hesitation, she did just that.
Terry turned back towards the counter area. Redd and Danny were busy relieving the hostages of all their cell phones and keys, the thought having apparently just occurred to them. Lonnie had his gun trained on the bank manager, who for some reason had come under suspicion lately. It probably didn't help that it was his phone that had just gone off. Terry breathed a sigh of relief—the lady had come and gone, wholly unnoticed.
As she processed what that really meant, joy grabbed her. She turned her eyes to Don, but Charlie was having a lucid moment and his focus was completely on him…he hadn't even seen the lady.
With no one else to share her happiness, she leaned back against the table leg. She couldn't help but smile through her gag. Help was on the way…before long, they would get Charlie to a hospital…he would be okay, and then Don would be okay too. They were all going to be okay. She was so happy, she could have burst.
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Redd was pacing. Danny knew that was a bad thing. It meant he had an idea…and Redd's ideas were usually both bad and difficult to dissuade.
Sure enough, Redd stopped a moment later and moved to the side of room where he would be out of everyone's earshot. He beckoned Danny over with a wave.
"That phone call got me thinkin','" he said quietly, "…we don't have much time here before someone's gonna show up."
Danny waited for him to continue. He had a slight sinking feeling in his stomach.
"There's no cops outside. No one even knows we're in here—yet."
Danny still didn't speak. He thought about pointing out that there were two Feds inside, but he decided to wait and see where Redd was going.
"So we can just take off outta here."
Danny let out the breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. That was all he had come up with—Jesus.
"That's not gonna work Redd," Danny explained, "because all these people have seen us. The cops will come after us as soon as they get our descriptions. Hell, some of them know our first names."
"I know that. I'm not a fuckin' idiot."
"Well I don't get what you're saying then."
"We're gonna have to kill 'em."
"Who?" Danny asked, confused.
"All of 'em. We're gonna have to kill all of 'em. Then we can just walk outta here—'cause there'll be no one left to tell."
Danny studied Redd's eyes. The sinking feeling in his stomach came back with a vengeance.