"Tomorrow you get the car and we leave by sundown at the latest," Walt proclaimed as he stood by the flimsy table. Jesse said nothing but continued sweeping the glass from the bathroom floor with a bit of newspaper into a plastic Walmart bag. He had long since come down from the previous night's meth and he was starving. Walt consented to pizza delivery but only if Jesse answered donning a ball cap and sunglasses while he hid in the bathroom. Walt's words were like the droning of an adult in a Snoopy cartoon to him.
"I think things just need a sense of calm from now on, don't you agree?"
Jesse pushed the last fragments of glass he cared to sweep into the bag and launched it into the garbage bin. His abdomen burned where he cut himself as did his hand but his bullet wound had finally morphed into a dull nuisance. A knock at the door appeared and Jesse rolled his eyes as he grabbed the sunglasses and ball cap from the table. Walt brushed past him to insert himself into the bathroom.
"This isn't gonna look suspicious at all," Jesse said flatly.
"Just do it," Walt retorted before slamming the bathroom door shut.
The two sat on the bed with the remainder of the pizza between them as an episode of Ironside flickered on the television. Jesse was slowly ingesting his sixth slice while Walt sipped a can of Coke. The two had barely spoken since the pizza arrived. Piercing the room, Walt began. "Jesse, I really don't have very long left now." A cough escaped his throat almost for effect.
Jesse's eyes rolled toward Walt. "How long?"
"I think not more than three months, maybe four."
"Oh, what? And you wanna go cook some meth?"
"No, no. Don't be ridiculous. It's just, I don't think I made this clear before about why I came back when I did, it was about timing."
Jesse rolled his eyes again. "Were you like, I'm leaving this earth pretty soon so I better get my ass back to Albuquerque and make sure Jesse was killed as per my orders?"
"No, of course not. You didn't even enter into my mind at that point."
Jesse huffed and finished his slice loudly.
"I need you Jesse. I need you for my…end of life care." Walt started to cough harder and then took a long swig of Coke.
Jesse just stared forward with his arms folded across his chest. Finally, he said, "Why does it have to be me?"
Walt shifted on the bed and said, "Who else could it be?"
Jesse rolled his eyes over to Walt again before looking down at his dirty sweats. He brushed some pizza crumbs off his lap then took a drink from his own can of Coke. The idea of tending to Walt's bedside in his final days made his teeth grit. Then, a news anchor broke into the credits rolling on Ironside.
Tonight at 10: we bring you the latest shocking developments from the white supremacist murders in New Mexico.
Jesse's eyes shot up to the screen. Walt dialled up the volume on the television set.
Good evening. Tonight we start with shocking developments from the murders at a white supremacist compound outside of Albuquerque just last week. Gabriela Marquez is reporting live from Albuquerque with the details. Gabriela?
Hi Jane. This evening the police released further details about the shocking killings at the compound and clubhouse headquarters of Jack Welker, a known white supremacist who spent many years in state custody. We knew that five men were killed last Friday, but each were believed to have been shot by a high-powered assault weapon. We are learning tonight from local authorities that not all the victims were killed in this fashion. APD have stated that two men, whose names have not yet been released, were killed by a military grade assault weapon, however that Jack Welker himself was killed by a single gunshot to the head from some kind of handgun. APD have also now told us that two other men were brutally slashed with a razor blade, which was found on the premises and has been placed into evidence. One man's throat was deeply slashed while the second man was eviscerated. The APD are releasing the names of these men in hopes that anyone with further information about their activities leading up to the incident may come forward. Their names are Todd Alquist and Kenneth Jones.
Jesse stared as photos of the two men froze on the screen. Walt raised the remote and slowly clicked the television off. He turned to Jesse and stared. Jesse just sat looking forward as he bit his nails. Walt then peered at his own slashed hand from the night before and then looked back at Jesse. The silence was beginning to stifle the room.
"Did you know you…?"
"No," Jesse returned almost robotically.
Walt stood putting some distance between the two of them.
"Do you remember anything at all?"
Jesse bit his thumbnail hard and spoke through his teeth. "The blood was warm, like hot."
Walt cleared his throat. "Let's just focus on our plan for tomorrow. I think we should head toward Sedona but find-"
"I'm not going with you," Jesse said still averting his eyes from Walt. "I'll get you a car or whatever, but I'm not going."
"Jesse you cannot stay here. In a matter of days the entire compound will be finger printed, if it hasn't been already, and your face will end up plastered everywhere. As well as mine. We have to move."
"I need to do it on my own."
Walt moved toward the bed. "Is that what you think - because of what you've done?"
Jesse looked back at him with his eyes changed. There was no longer rage nor an alien quality present as there had been when he had returned in the early morning. Instead they held a lugubrious calm.
Walt started again, "I will be worm meat much quicker than you think. There's no need to worry about what you might do."
"This is where we part, Walt." Jesse spoke slowly and stared at him hard. "This…is it. No more arguments, no more manipulation. Let me go again, like you did before."
Walt stood silent for a moment before he said it. "Okay."
He picked up a new can of Coke and with a faint smile told Jesse he was going to step outside for just a minute to get some air. He stood outside for ten minutes facing the door to the room. He cracked the can of coke open and drank it like it was coffee, sipping hard and fast.
Inside, Jesse was sitting at the edge of the bed facing the inner wall. His eyes were wide but he wasn't seeing the wall; a rush of images were running through his mind. He could see his hands in a pool of warm blood on the floor, then the bodies of Kenny and Todd piled in the white room where they were held. He could feel Kenny's insides in his hand and he could smell the blood mixing with sweat and cheap cologne. He's dead, he's dead, he's dead, he chanted in his head.
In the late afternoon sun of the following day, Jesse arrived back at the motel with the best used car he could muster with the five-thousand-dollar budget Walt gave him: a Chrysler Town and Country, which was a Chrysler mini-van. It was a golden beige and he parked the monstrosity in front of the room straddling two spaces. The noise of the car brought Walt to open the door and his mouth fell agape immediately. Jesse hopped out of the van and dangled the keys in front of him. "These are all yours," he said and brushed past him into the room. Walt slammed the door quickly.
"We agreed this one was worst-case-scenario only, Jesse."
"Yeah, and we're in the worst case. One of the guys didn't even show up. And the Ford was just not even gonna run after a week, I'm telling you."
Walt huffed as he sat down.
"This'll be more incognito or whatever, right?"
"Sure," Walt returned with a distance. His bag was packed and sitting near the door. Jesse spied it as he sat on the edge of the bed.
"So you're ready to roll?" Jesse's words came out stilted. There was something he needed to ask, but he had put it off until the last possible moment.
"I am, yes," Walt returned in a downbeat tone. He stood and fussed with his bag. Jesse guessed he would do anything to drag this moment out.
"Could I, maybe…I mean, would you…" Before he could finish Walt had turned around with a plastic bag.
"Take this, Jesse." Walt shoved it into his hands. When he looked inside, he could see it was filled with rolls of cash.
"I can't take it with me," Walt said with a warm smile lifting his face. Jesse just nodded.
"Just going to use the restroom and that'll be it, I suppose," Walt said, appearing to Jesse like he was avoiding some sort of emotional breakdown. There was a rock in the pit of Jesse's stomach but he knew in every fibre of his being that this was the right choice. There was no telling what would become of them if they stayed in each other's company even a day longer.
Walt enclosed himself in the bathroom and Jesse counted the wads of cash. He wouldn't want for anything for a long time as long as he kept out of prison. He set the bag aside and grabbed his head as he took a deep breath. He would need to get another car tomorrow donning the ball cap and sunglasses getup once again, he realized. But, then the future was his. What road would he take and would it be north, or south, he wondered. If he chose south, he could cross the border back where he and Gus traversed on foot after the massacre and make his way through Mexico. If he managed to make his way to the Gulf of Mexico, he could get a boat and then head for South America. He smiled for a moment thinking about making it to Colombia, a place he talked of visiting with Skinny Pete and Combo often. The smile fell off his face as he remembered Combo saying how he'd go to great lengths to smuggle the whitest white he could find in Colombia back to Albuquerque so he could sling it. He let his thoughts drift to heading north through Nevada toward Oregon where he could again find a boat and sail away. He remembered his dreams of a quiet life in Alaska where he could work with his hands and maybe even catch fish in between dodging icebergs and whales off the coast. It was idyllic and eventually he pushed it from his mind knowing he didn't deserve such a grand fate. He should prepare to head south and for all the danger that would accompany crossing Mexico. Perhaps Walt could spare me that knife and a gun, he thought. Just as he thought to yell to Walt, he heard a chilling thud come from the bathroom. It was followed by silence.
"Yo, Walt?"
The silence hung in the air.
"Seriously Walt? Walt?" He went to the door and banged a few times before trying the door handle, which was locked.
"Shit, hey open the door – Walt?"
Jesse started throwing himself into the door hoping the hinges were weak enough to peel from the wall. After smacking into the door five times, they did and he was able to push the door in a foot before it hit something. Walt was laying on the floor and a trickle of blood ran from the back of his head. Jesse stared at him for a moment. He was so lifeless Jesse wondered if this was it: had the Heisenberg finally bit the dust so unceremoniously? At least his body wouldn't be left to rot somewhere clandestine, he thought. Walt's plan to hide away in Sedona had made him envision the liquefied remains of his body only being found six months after the event. Jesse kneeled on the floor and put his hand over Walt's mouth to see if he could feel breath. He did and he lightly hit the side of Walt's face to see if he would wake up easily. Walt remained unconscious and panic began to rise in Jesse. He couldn't leave Walt like this or…could he, he wondered. He surmised Walt would wake a few hours later confused and maybe he'd even think Jesse was to blame for his state and so be relieved of his absence. He'd have to leave on foot, but it was now six in the evening and once the sun was down he'd be alone in the pitch black walking deep into the middle of nowhere.
Jesse slumped beside Walt on the tiled floor and swore. Neither of them should stay in the motel for even another night given the activity at the compound. They needed to be moving along to the next city and the only way to do that now was for Jesse to drive them both; he was trapped with Walt.
"Fucking shit," Jesse said, cradling his head in his hands. "I can't fucking get rid of you," he yelled to Walt. He wanted to kick him as hard as possible, to pummel him and then just desert him by leaving in the van with all the money. He did none of those things.