Forget You (16 page)

“I had some crackers in the bottom of my
purse, but we ate those about four hours ago.”

Four hours ago. Images of where I’d been four
hours ago surged through my mind—inside Eva’s warm apartment,
sleeping while her head rested on my chest. I shook the thoughts
and mental images from my mind. There were other things I needed to
think about, other things that needed to consume me besides
thoughts of Eva and what we’d done.

“I’ll bring you both something to eat in just
a moment,” I insisted. “How are you doing back there, little buddy?
Are you warm enough?” I ducked lower, so I could make eye contact
with him.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He smiled, and nodded his
head enthusiastically. “This is so cool!”

My eyes shifted back to his mother. A tired
smile stretched across her face. It was amazing to me the way
children could find something good in practically every stressful
situation known to man.

“I’ll be right back.” I handed another
blanket to the mother, and nodded toward her son. “For him, just in
case.”

“Thank you.” She took the blanket, and rolled
her window up as I walked away.

Heading back to the Humvee, I nabbed two hot
sandwiches for the boy and his mom, along with two bottles of
water. Making my way through the stranded vehicles and lingering
people, I reached their car again and passed the mother what I’d
brought.

“A soldier just gave me a sandwich. No one at
school is going to believe this!” the boy muttered from in the
backseat, and I laughed.

A commotion three vehicles ahead caught my
attention. Two men were arguing, and shoving one another. I
couldn’t make out what the altercation was about, but from the
looks on both of their faces, they were pretty heated. I had
wondered when something like this would happen. Put people in a
situation where they felt completely helpless, and it wouldn’t be
long before tempers would fly. It was a proven fact. It was also
one of the reasons I was here as military police.

I watched as one of the men reached into his
car for something. From where I stood, all I could see was him
gripping a dark item in his right hand, but I wasn’t sure what it
was…until I heard it go off. In a split-second, all thoughts
evaporated from my mind as chaos exploded around the vehicles
closest to where the shot had been fired. The woman I’d been
talking to screamed, and a hand flew to her mouth.

Everything around me slowed.

On instinct, I glanced to the little boy in
the backseat. The look on his face would forever be burned into my
memory. It was one of complete shock and utter panic. He’d seen
everything. In an instant, his entire view of the world and
everything in it had changed. His blissful innocence and capability
to find the good in stressful situations, and handle them with
ease, had died.

I darted from where I stood toward the man
with the gun. His hands were covering his ears, the gun still
gripped tightly in his right one. The closer I got to him, the more
his body seemed to shift in my direction. My eyes took in the
strained, unbelieving expression plastered on his face.

He couldn’t fathom what he’d just done.

“Sir, put the gun down,” I shouted in as calm
a tone as I could manage over the noises stemming from his action.
Once I was less than six feet from him, I slowed my descent upon
him. My heart hammered at the unpredictable situation I’d found
myself in. “Please, sir, put the gun down.”

“He pissed me off,” the man said in a
wavering, clipped tone. His hands left his ears, and dropped to his
sides. All the life drained from his face as he glanced at the man
lying at his feet. Blood pooled from the victim’s head, and made
its way toward the assailant’s shoes due to the dip in the road.
“He wouldn’t turn down that fucking thumping music of his! I’d
asked him numerous times, and he just cranked that rap crap of his
louder each time I walked away. He wouldn’t listen to me! He
wouldn’t!”

My eyes skimmed over the victim’s body, this
time looking more closely than the last. He was young, about the
same age as I was, if not younger. The rumble of bass stemming from
the vehicle beside me must have been his. It was low now, but
apparently, it hadn’t been low enough for this guy.

Licking my lips, I swallowed hard and took
another tentative step forward. “I understand how stressful that
must have been, how angry you must have felt. Being stuck in this
storm on the highway was enough, but add in this kid’s music, and
it must have been unbearable.”

I didn’t understand. I would never understand
killing someone simply because he or she wouldn’t turn down his or
her music, but I had to sympathize with him, or at least appear to,
before I could safely get the gun from him.

“He just wouldn’t turn it down. He smirked at
me like a little punk,” the man stated.

By now, I was less than five feet away from
him, and two other military police were closing in behind him as
well. There was a chance we could detain this guy without anyone
else getting hurt. My heart thundered incredibly hard in my chest
as I took a few more steps toward him. Silently, I prayed he would
hand me the gun when I reached for it.

“Can I have the gun, sir? I don’t want anyone
else to get hurt,” I insisted.

The man locked eyes with me. They were
bloodshot and wide with panic, crazed-looking—eyes that would
forever be burned into my memory.

“Me either,” he whispered. The gun he’d been
gripping tightly rose to his temple.

I lunged across the distance separating us,
hoping to intercept what I knew he was about to do, but I didn’t
make it in time. His bloodshot eyes remained trained on mine as he
pulled the trigger.

Blood splattered across the front of me.
Screams and cries of panic flooded the early morning air. His body
seemed to stand there, suspended for a long moment as life left
each of his limbs one by one, until he fell into a slump over the
young man at his feet. I froze. My eyes unable to comprehend what
they’d just witnessed, my mind incapable of taking in all the
details around me.

I’d just watched someone take his own life in
front of me. Wet warmth on my face registered in the back of my
mind. Looking down, I trailed my eyes over the blood splatters
across my hands and uniform. What had happened? What had made him
decide right then that this life wasn’t worth living anymore? What
had made him snap and take another’s life in the first place?

Taking a step back, I watched as my unit
descended on the scene from all angles. Andrew came up behind me,
and placed a hand on my shoulder.

“You all right, man?” he asked.

I couldn’t find my voice to answer him, so I
nodded instead. Far from all right, that’s where I was, but I
couldn’t say that.

“Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He
gently pulled on me. “Let the other guys deal with that.”

That
. The word sounded harsh and cold,
insensitive.
That
had been two people, two lives
extinguished before my eyes.

As I followed Andrew through the throng of
vehicles toward our Humvee, I took in the horrified expressions of
the bystanders’ faces, the ones who were close enough to see what
had happened, the people who would forever be haunted by that
memory.

As I passed the car with the mom and little
boy, I noticed the boy was now in the front seat, wrapped in his
mother’s arms. His tear-stained face glanced at me, his eyes
meeting mine. They had been so full of life before, and now they
were dull, corrupted by the madness of the world, darkened by
things he shouldn’t have seen at any age.

Inhaling deeply, I continued toward the
Humvee with the intention of cleaning myself up and getting back
out there. I needed to help these people. I needed to make the
situation that had just turned as bitterly cold and crazed as this
winter storm a little lighter somehow.

EVA

Glancing at my phone for the millionth time
since hearing the local news about a double shooting on highway
eighty-seven, I realized there still wasn’t a text or missed call
from Sawyer. Same as it had been all morning. I knew he was okay
though. The report the news anchor had given said there had been
two casualties and no one else had been hurt. Nothing had been
mentioned about one of the two being a Guard member. It seemed
there had been an altercation between two men, and one had pulled a
gun on the other, killing him point blank, before the shooter had
taken his own life.

I couldn’t imagine what it must feel like to
be there right now, or worse, to have witnessed the shootings. My
heart went out to those who had, and to the families of those lost.
The reminder that the world could be a cold place at times swam
through me, churning my stomach even more.

My cell chimed as a new text came through. My
heart leaped into my throat as I reached for it, praying it was
something from Sawyer. It was a message from Paige instead.

Just saw the news. Oh my God! Have you heard
from Sawyer yet?

Holding my breath for a moment, I exhaled
slowly and typed out a response.

No. Not yet. I’m hoping to soon. ~ Eva

I’m sure he’ll call or something shortly.
He’s probably busy. That place looks like chaos.

My lips twisted into a frown. What if he
didn’t call soon?

Yeah, you’re probably right. ~ Eva

I wondered if this was how it would feel each
time he was sent someplace, should we happen to stay together. My
heart hammered with the thought. Would I be able to handle that
type of stress? Googling “National Guard”, I searched for how many
times they were deployed each year and for what exactly. The
results didn’t seem to pull up much information. According to the
official website, they were sent to areas within the state they
served in most, but there were times when they would be sent
overseas, should the federal government have a need for them. The
gist of it seemed to be all local stuff though; maybe this
altercation on the highway had just been an unusual blip. Guilt
crashed through me at my word choice—someone’s death should never
be categorized as an unusual blip.

Tossing my phone onto the couch beside me, I
curled up beneath my blanket again and continued to watch TV,
waiting until they reported the mess on highway eighty-seven and
the surrounding counties had been cleaned up. Maybe then, Sawyer
would be on his way back to me.

* * * *

Tuesday came and went without a word from
Sawyer, but plenty of calls from my friends. Apparently, I was the
only one snowed in alone. Come Wednesday morning everyone seemed to
know about Sawyer’s current whereabouts and my nerves at the
situation. The snow trucks hadn’t been able to make it around to
salt and scrape much. It didn’t matter though, because there was no
way I was venturing out in this crap until I felt confident most of
it had disappeared. I had a small amount of savings in my bank
account, and I would tap into it for every penny if I had to, just
to be able to stay where I was—at home, safe.

After gathering some clean clothes, I made my
way to the bathroom for a warm shower. I was positive someone would
be stopping by at some point today to visit. My bet was it would be
Cameron and Paige before anyone else. He would want to make sure
that I wasn’t going insane being cooped up because of the
weather.

As I lathered shampoo into my long hair, I
thought I heard something. It sounded like someone pounding on my
front door. Pursing my lips together, I wondered if it was the girl
in the apartment beside me again. She had been even less prepared
for the snow than I was. In fact, she had already been by twice in
the last few hours for random things. The first time was to see if
I had any milk she could have, because she’d run out, and her kids
wanted cereal for breakfast. The second time had been a few minutes
ago, when she’d swung back by for more milk and some butter so she
could make a box of mac and cheese. I’d given her everything she’d
asked for without much fuss. I understood not being prepared for
this crap weather better than anyone, considering I had been living
off the things I could scrounge up from in the depths of my
cabinets for the last few days. The only thing that irked me in the
moment was her horrible timing.

Rinsing the shampoo out of my hair as quickly
as I could, I slathered some soap across my body, hoping she would
give me a couple more minutes. The knock came again, this time a
little louder. The noise seemed to echo through my silent
apartment. A sudden urge to yell out for her to give me a minute
filled me, but I never did. I hated being rushed while in the
shower. It was another thing on my long list of pet peeves. She
would have to wait until I was finished. When I got out, if she
wasn’t there anymore, then I’d head next door and ask what she’d
needed. No biggie.

I propped my right leg up, and began shaving.
After finishing both legs, I lathered my hair in the new thick,
creamy conditioner I’d purchased last week because of the scent.
Coconut infused the air around me. It was my all-time favorite
scent—summer in a bottle, something I could use today. When I was
finished, I stepped out and dried off. Wrapping my hair in a towel,
I listened for my neighbor at the front door, but didn’t hear her
knocking anymore.

Pulling my clothes on, I towel dried my hair
and exited the bathroom. The desire to wait around until she came
back coursed through me. Deciding that was probably for the best, I
started toward the kitchen to see what I had to make for lunch. A
knock at the front door startled me. As I made my way toward it, I
created a mental list of the things left in my fridge my neighbor
could possibly ask for. When I swung my front door open expecting
to see her standing there, puffing on a cigarette like the previous
times before, I found Sawyer instead.