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Don't Move On

Chapter 11

It was the most horrible sound he's ever heard—he, whose entire life fell off course because of another horrible sound he heard when he was six. Impulsively, Sawyer dashed out of the patio, grabbed his gun, and hurried out the front door; everything he had so carefully planned out for tonight left forgotten. His heart was pounding so hard that he wished he could just tear it out. His mind was racing, but there was only one thing that he kept thinking of—Kate. Kate…Kate…Kate…, his mind kept on calling out her name, desperately demanding for her to somehow just turn up.

He was holding his breath by the time he reached the neighbor's still-ajar door, but Sawyer couldn't hear any voices now. He lightly kicked the door open, firmly held up his gun, keenly narrowed his eyes, warily walked across the hall, and painfully strained to listen. Then he suddenly heard a woman crying. A bit faster but still cautious, he moved towards the nearly hysterical sobs that seemed to be coming from behind the door at the end of the hall. He was breathlessly hoping that that's Kate he's hearing; for a while, he didn't seem to care what those sobs could mean as long as it's her.

But it wasn't. Instead he found a woman, sitting on the floor behind the counter; her arms wrapped around her legs, swaying back and forth. Her face was gaunt and white; her eyes were bloodshot; her black hair was a mess, her breathing was shallow, uneven, and difficult. There were crumpled tissues littered all around her, but aside from that everything else looked fine; there was neither blood nor gun.

"Where is she," he demanded.

The woman didn't say anything, but she shook more severely.

"Where the hell is she!"

"I killed…," the woman muttered indistinguishably.

"Sawyer."

He turned around and saw Kate rushing towards them. But before Sawyer could feel relieved, Kate crouched in front of the woman and helped her with an inhaler.

"What the hell do you think you're doing," he bellowed, grabbing Kate's arms, forcing her to stand up.

Kate shot her eyes at Sawyer and loosened his grip. "Just stay out if this for a while." Then she crouched down and turned to the woman again. "Just breathe, Janice," Kate said with a voice of forced calm, helping her to another puff from the inhaler.

"I killed… killed… I…," Janice muttered continuously and breathlessly, but Sawyer didn't seem to care about this.

"What the hell is going on here? What the hell do you think you're doing," he demanded so loud that he drowned out Janice's hysterical sobs, but Kate seemed oblivious to his shouting.

"Help me, Tina," Janice suddenly spoke, looking intently at Kate. Sawyer looked from Kate to Janice and back again, then narrowed his eyes on Kate.

"What is going on here, Freckles? Who fired the gun?" he asked lowering his voice down, careful not to use her real name as he, more than once, mindlessly did.

Kate wasn't listening to Sawyer; Janice was mumbling uncontrollably.

"Help me, get him out of here," Janice pleaded, clutching Kate's arm.

"It's self-defense, Jan," Kate said calmly.

"That's it. Get up," Sawyer bellowed at Kate. "Tell me what's going on!"

"He was hurting her, she had to defend herself," Kate exclaimed, starting to lose her previous control.

"Who is?"

Kate grabbed Sawyer arm and led him out through the hallway, into a door that Sawyer didn't notice earlier. Instantly, he somehow knew what had happened. There were shards of glass and blood stains on the carpeted floor. Behind the sofa, was the body of a man shot twice; one around the stomach, the other on the chest.

"We're leaving," Sawyer said firmly, taking Kate's hand.

"I can't leave her here," Kate let go of her hand and made her way towards the kitchen again.

"So you're thinking of staying here," Sawyer spat.

"I can't leave her! Can't you see? She's sick," Kate replied, without stopping or looking back.

"Freckles, if you don't get out of here, you'll have more problems than worrying about a sick neighbor you've just met," Sawyer roared, his eyes were glaring. He grabbed Kate's arms.

"No, Tina," Janice attempted to shout, but only managed to do so weakly. "Please… Please help me…," she choked. "The police… I… I… don't know… the police…," she was shaking so hard.

Sawyer saw the sudden trace of panic in Kate's face, but she doesn't seem to have any intention of leaving.

"We're leaving now, Freckles," he said tightly. There was finality in his voice, but Kate still mindlessly pushed, not really knowing what to say.

"I can't…," her arms on Sawyer's strong grip suddenly fell limp.

Sawyer lost his patience right then. He held up his gun and pointed it at Janice. She shrieked, her face was suddenly turning purple.

"Are you out of your mind, Sawyer!" Kate tried to escape Sawyer's firm grip, but he only seized her more forcefully.

"Out! Now," he bawled.

"You're not seriously doing this," Kate gasped as if she was out of breath.

Sawyer maintained his position, pointing his gun towards the wretched woman. He stared at Kate silently hoping that she would give up and just leave with him. "The choice is pretty simple, you go or I'll shoot."

Kate looked at him intently, wanting knock him down, which she knew she could, of course, but his gun was still steadily pointed at Janice, and Kate didn't want to do anything that might put her in more danger than she already is. Finally, shaking her head, she conceded. Sawyer, although still wary knowing that Kate could double-cross him, let go of her arms as she turned around and made for the door leading out into the hall.

Sawyer lowered his gun and stood there a few more seconds. He surveyed the room hurriedly, perhaps checking for anything that would give him and Kate away. There was nothing there that would hint that they were there except Janice who was breathing heavily. He was about to turn around and leave when he heard someone running behind him, rushing towards him. He spun around and lifted his gun, pointed it randomly, and was slightly though unnoticeably taken aback to find that he was pointing the gun straight at Kate.

"We can't go," she said, lowering Sawyer's gun.

"Dammit, Freckles! Will you just…," Sawyer was tearing his hear out, but Kate interrupted her.

"No it's not… the house across, someone's peering at the window. We can't go out."

"Nice try. We can't go out that way. Out back. Over the wall."

"What," Kate started, clearly about to protest. But Sawyer already grabbed her arm and led her out the backyard, grabbing a chair on his way out.

"Climb up," he commanded as he set the chair in front of the wall, his voice was imperative.

Kate didn't move.

"If you want to wait here 'til the place is swarming with cops then fine," Sawyer said plainly; half-thinking, half-thanking that the police had not come yet.

Kate said nothing, then after what felt like a long enough time, she climbed up the wall. Sawyer heard a light thump that meant Kate had already jumped over to their side. He grabbed the chair, returned it to the kitchen, and hauled himself over the other side. Kate was waiting for her, looking at the small fancy table set for two they left behind. Sawyer grabbed her hand, and led her across the patio, through the house. Kate glanced up at Sawyer; his face looked as if he knew exactly what he was doing.

They were already by the front door when suddenly, Kate let go of Sawyer's grip and ran up the stairs.

"What do you think you're doing now, Freckles," he said impatiently. He knew Kate wasn't about to go anywhere else since she'd already went upstairs, but he ran after her nevertheless.

By the time he was at the last plight, Kate was already running down again, her backpack clutched in her right hand. With her left, she grabbed Sawyer's hand. "Since you won't let me stay with her, might as well hurry up and run. Police should have been here by now," she muttered, as she put on her blonde wig.

When they went out, the street looked like no gun had fired twice only a few minutes ago. Kate glanced carefully at the window of the house across theirs; there was nobody there now, but she still rushed inside Sawyer's heavily-tinted truck. Sawyer helped Kate, though perhaps unnecessarily, into the passenger seat and slammed the door, harder than he had intended. He moved around the truck toward the driver's side and got in.

"What was all that about," he asked the moment he had slammed his own door.

"I already told you, he's hurting her. I hear them all the time," Kate replied, she watched as Sawyer pulled out the driveway.

"You hear them? Who's Tina then?"

"I don't…," Kate's mind was racing as she tried to search for words.

"Don't damn lie to me, Freckles. You'll regret it."

"Are you threatening me?"

"At this point, sweetheart, I'm not the one you should be afraid of."

Kate fell silent. They had already passed their street. Sawyer turned carefully around a corner.

"Plan on tellin' me…" Sawyer started to prod, but Kate was already saying something.

"She's my friend."

"Your friend," he exclaimed, it was as if he was ready to laugh at her. "You just met her ten minutes ago!"

"You fool! We've known each other for more than a week," Kate raised her voice, but immediately lowered it down; she knew she made a mistake. "Been talking to her everytime you're out."

"What! I go out and you go around tellin' me that everytime I go out all you're left to do is to damn wait for me, when the truth is you go around gossipin' with some beaten up neighbor!"

"She's not some beaten up neighbor! She's the only person that made me somehow forget why I'm here in the first place!" The moment those words came out, Kate knew she made an even graver mistake.

Sawyer slammed the driving wheel so sudden and so hard it startled Kate. "Your damn friend is going to put you in trouble!"

"Well, we're far enough now. The police missed us."

"You ain't this thick, Freckles."

Kate opened her mouth, about to say something, but Sawyer didn't let her.

"That woman… Your friend, the one who makes you blissfully forget why you're with me in the first place,just killed somebody and you are a damn witness. She'd go huntin' you down so you can testify for her."

Kate fell silent. She felt the weight of what's happening fall down on her. There was a tight knot in her throat; she didn't know what to say. She turned her head away from Sawyer, but watched his reflection by her window. Sawyer glanced at her every now and then, without saying anything, his forehead wrinkled and worried; he had never felt more betrayed in his life—he whose whole life was messed up with betrayal and lies.