Memory: Book Two (Scars 2) (15 page)

The
sound felt like it burst through my eardrums and then everything went silent.
All I saw was the car flip through the air as dust, fire and smoke rose with
it. Over and over, bouncing on the ground and lifting up again only to crash
down once more, crushed against the earth and containing the man within.

I
couldn’t move, not even a scream escaped my lips. I felt like I were holding my
breath but couldn’t exhale if I wanted to. The wreckage of the car finally came
to a stop and Ryan began to walk over to it, whistling slightly as he did so. I
followed too. Not at first though, all I wanted to do was to run back into the
safety of the bunker that was supposed to protect against devils and sins
catching up with us.

But
I had to see for myself. I had to see what was left.

As
I got closer, I saw movement.  A booted leg kicked at a broken window, clearing
the sharp shards that acted like teeth, keeping the monster in. Ryan just stood
above the truck and watched, still not touching his gun, as Aaron managed to
crawl through the window, dragging himself with one arm.

Black
and blood, a twisted useless arm, a running red mouth, and hand curved into the
dirt to drag himself free: this was Aaron, at my feet, ruined and about to be
executed. He managed to turn himself onto his back; he even sat, though it must
have caused him even greater pain to do so. He was sucking in ragged breaths,
wincing every time. For a second he leaned his head back and closed his eyes,
enjoying the sun in his last moments.

Then
he opened his eyes and gave a slight laugh, spreading his cut lips into
something like a smile and showing teeth that were still intact, just red. “I
didn’t recognize you, kid,” he said to the still Ryan. Then his gaze crossed to
me. “See, Rachel. I told you that I got sloppy when I was around you. I let him
slip right past me, too worried about you being with another man to see
anything else clearly.” He gave another laugh and blood flew from his lips,
then he began to cough and more blood appeared.

“I’m
glad you know why you’re here,” Ryan said quietly. “At least I know that you
never forgot, not really.”

“I
don’t forget any of them,” Aaron rasped. That coughing had stopped and now he
struggled for breath.

“I
wanted your girlfriend to see what you were, to
know
what you were.”

“Am,”
interjected Aaron, “I still
am
that person. Nothing’s changed, there’s
no regret in me for what I did. Your father deserved what I did to him, and
when your crazy ass militant family came after me with weapons, yeah I killed
them. Why wouldn’t I? They would have strung me up to the nearest tree just to
watch me dance. I know what you people are like, only blood will ever satisfy
you and that crazy devotion you all had to your old man. He wasn’t a prophet or
god in waiting like he had you all believing, he was just a crazy asshole who
didn’t want to follow the rules. He took what he wanted and fucked with anyone
who got in his way, including my mother. My only regret, kid, is that I didn’t
torture him more before he died.”

Ryan’s
hands were shaking and his face pale as he pulled out his gun. “Goodbye, Aaron.
I hope you see Meredith’s face when I kill you.”

Aaron
laughed. “All I think about is how she pulled a shotgun on me. Her rage made
her miss and I wasn’t about to give her a second chance.”

Ryan
shook his head. “You’re scum, just like your father and your mother,” he began
to raise the gun, slowly as if this were his own way of torment.

It
didn’t take much for me to be behind him. If he heard me, he didn’t bother to
turn, and that was his mistake. I brought my cuffed hands over his head and
down to his throat, pulling him hard against me. He struggled, knocking me from
my feet but I still didn’t let go, I couldn’t.

“Rachel,
hold on!” Aaron yelled to me. My wrists felt like they were being cut as I used
all my might to keep the pressure on his throat. The sounds were terrible and I
knew that I wouldn’t forget them anytime soon. Ryan kicked and hit me and the
blows had me cry out in pain, but I still didn’t let go.

Aaron
dragged himself toward where we struggled. In the corner of my eye, I saw him
grab a knife that was strapped to his ankle. In a few short moments, he had
that knife in his hand and he stabbed quickly at Ryan’s chest and I closed my
eyes and never let up my hold, even when all movement ceased.

“Rachel,
let him go,” Aaron said. I opened my eyes, he lay on the ground, trying to catch
his breath, and Ryan wasn’t moving any longer. Slowly I looped my arms back
over his head, trying to avoid looking at where he lay. There was so much blood
on the ground, pooling into the earth forever.

I
was quick getting to my feet. Keys, I needed the keys. I broke into a run
toward the bunker entrance where he had thrown the keys earlier. They still lay
there, and I went for the smallest one. The cuffs opened easily and I threw
them from me, rubbing my aching wrists. There was some blood and torn skin from
the struggle, and no doubt giant bruises would blossom through my skin as an
ugly reminder of what my life was.

I
walked slowly back to where Aaron lay, still clutching the keys.

“Rachel,
is his cell phone still in one piece? I need you to call Antony.” His face was
screwed up with pain and he looked white like he would faint. He lay on his
back, eyes squeezed shut. The shiny cell lay on the ground a few feet away, but
I didn’t reach for it. Instead, I picked up the gun.

“Did
you do it?” My words snapped out of me harshly.

His
eyes opened and he raised his head a little. “Do what?”

I
swallowed, scared that I would lose the courage. “Did you kill my friends? The
only ones I’ve ever had. Did you kill Mara and Torrance?” My voice wavered with
emotion.

His
good eye stared straight at me with that intensity that once would have made me
cower, but not anymore. “No.”

I
waited for him to continue, to protest his innocence, but he said nothing
further.

“You’re
a fucking liar, Aaron,” I said in a low voice that was slow and succinct.
“You’re a scourge. You deserve to live a cursed life. I would wish a thousand
Ryans on you, each one of them torturing you over and over again for the rest
of your life.” He didn’t move, it was like he wasn’t even breathing. That one
open eye didn’t even blink. “In spite of yourself, you’re going to fall in love
with someone one day. I think you forget that you’re only human, it’ll probably
be some holier than thou woman like that Azalea bitch. You’ll be consumed by
her, and when you are, I’m going to torment you. I’ll kill the bitch and make
you watch.”

“I
told you I didn’t do it,” he said softly.

“And
I told you that you’re a fucking
liar
.” I pointed the gun straight at
him. It would have been so easy to pull the trigger and fire a shot into his
already beaten body.

There
was no surprise in his eyes. “Do it,” he said calmly. “If it will bring you
peace or happiness, do it.”

I
shook my head at him; I felt like crying. “That’s the problem though. It
won’t.”

“Then
put the gun down, Rachel. Let’s start over. Let’s—”

 “No.”
I turned, and threw the gun as far as I could. “I hope you fucking die,” I
hissed as I looked back at where he lay. Wordlessly, he watched me. Jangling
the keys in my hand, I walked over to the only intact vehicle in the place and
opened the door, climbing into it and firmly slamming it shut behind me.  The
interior to Ryan’s truck was leather and smelt new, and it started straight
away when I turned the key in the ignition.

If
Aaron called out to me, I didn’t hear him. I just put my foot down on the accelerator
and began to drive, increasing the speed and the cloud of dust left behind me.
The landscape whooshed by me and not one single time did I look in the rear view
mirror to see the man that I had left lying there.

It
felt like my head was a mess of static, so many crazy thoughts rushing through
my brain all at once. I had no idea where I was or where I was going. I just
drove along the dusty country roads as fast as I could. The truck bounced over
dips and the holes in the ill kept roads while I kept an eye on the
precariously low fuel tank. Ryan’s wallet, an expensive piece of leather, lay
on the passenger seat with a few hundred dollar bills stuffed in it. That would
be enough for a while, but after that I’d need a new plan.

I
also needed to ditch this truck. Someone would come looking for Ryan sooner or
later, and I didn’t want to get caught with it or have to answer any more
questions. It was a few more miles before I saw signs of civilization. A faded
sign advertised a truck stop further up the road and I pulled the truck well
off the road so it wouldn’t be noticed at first. Grabbing the cash from the
wallet, I left the keys in the truck, hoping that someone would steal it.

By
the time I reached the truck stop, I was a sweating mess. It was a hot day and
I would have killed for a shower. My clothes were dirty, and the blood dark
enough to pass for something else if anyone asked. The waitress gave me a weird
look as I walked through the door. I ignored her and headed straight for the
bathroom.

A
single bulb lit the dirty room that may have once been white. I locked the door
behind me and tried to wash my face and hands. The water ran red and brown with
Ryan’s blood, and I felt nothing as I watched it run down the drain. Smoothing
my hair back away from my face, I tried not to think of Aaron, I tried not to
care.

Once
I was semi presentable, I sat down at a table. The place was deserted except
for a man who must have been a truck driver because there was only one huge
truck outside. The waitress came over to me and I ordered coffee and eggs.

“Have
you been in an accident?” she asked, almost accusingly. My first instinct was
to tell the nosy bitch to fuck off, but then I remembered, I was looking after
myself now. There was no mother or Aaron to look after me. I was responsible
for me, and charm would get me a hell of a lot further than being rude.

“No,
my boyfriend kicked me out of the car. Can you believe that? He put me out on
some dusty road in the middle of nowhere. I’ve been walking for hours.”

The
waitress tut-tutted sympathetically. She had what may have been the yellowing
remains of a bruise on her skin and looked like she was the kind of person who
understood about asshole boyfriends. As she walked away to put in my order, I
noticed the truck driver staring at me intently. I looked down to see if I had
anything else that looked like blood on me, but all I saw was my cleavage and
smiled knowingly. This guy was just another motherfucking pervert.

But
he had a vehicle and I needed a ride. I raised my eyes to him and gave him a
sweet smile. He didn’t smile back, instead just averted his eyes like he’d been
caught doing something wrong. He was fat with an unshaven round face and the
thought of him touching me made my skin crawl. But still, I’d had worse.

The
waitress brought his food and he began to eat, still keeping his head down as
he shoveled it into his mouth.

When
she brought mine, I ate very little. My appetite was diminished and food wasn’t
important to me. Instead, I drank my coffee, burning my mouth and welcoming the
pain. When I saw him getting out his wallet and pulling out some cash to put on
the table, I did the same, following him out but keeping my distance.

When
I saw him climb up onto the truck, I sprang into action, pulling my top down low
to show off my breasts and rolling up the top to present my flat stomach.

“Hey,”
I called out to him as I jogged toward him. He paused, his eyes brushing over
my body before reaching my face.

“You
all right, girly?”

“No,”
I stood in front of him, breasts out, hands in my back pockets. “I had a fight
with my boyfriend, I need a ride.”

He
gave a nod, and then wiped some sweat from his forehead. “You know, I’d like to
help a pretty girl like you out, but I’m no charity and, well, nothings free if
you get what I—”

I
gave a huff of irritation, my patience dying. “I get what you mean perfectly,”
I snapped out. “I’ve been speaking the language of revolting perverts like you
since as far back as I can remember. You give me a ride and at some stage I’ll
wrap my hand around your little penis and give you the best hand job you’ve
ever had. Now, are we going or not?”

His
mouth dropped open but he quickly recovered. “Well, if you put like that…” he nodded
his head toward the cab. “Hop in.”

I
climbed up into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. I scanned around
for Aaron just in case by some miracle he had managed to follow me, but there
was no sign of him. My hand curled into a fist, the nails digging in deep to
the palm of my hand. Part of me wanted to kill him, but the other part of me
wanted him to follow me. Although I knew he couldn’t, he was badly injured and
had no vehicle. Maybe he would die. Maybe there were internal injuries and he
wouldn’t have lingered much longer. Maybe I should have shot him just to put
him out of my misery.