P4L, carpe diem (JJ Maybank)

009

"And he was... uh... shot after he bought it," my brother explained. "Then the compass was shipped back home to Henry Routledge. He was killed in a crop-dusting accident when he had the compass. After he died, the compass was given to Stephen, who had it with him when he died in Vietnam," I explained.

"Let me guess, he died in action, right?" JJ asked me.

"Sort of?" I guessed, shrugging my arms. "He was killed by a banana truck. In— in country," my brother said.

"Anyways, after that, Stephen passed the compass down to him, Dad," I said, smearing my finger across my Dad's face, which had a picture of me and little John B.

"Hm. Sounds like there's a reoccurring theme here," JJ said, sarcastically, like always.

"Yeah, you guys own a death compass," Pope guessed.

"No, we don't," I answered.

"It's cursed, Dylan. And it made its way back to you. Both of you," JJ explained. "So bows your choice— one; throw it into the ocean and end the family legacy, or two; have a personal Hunger Games to see which of the two of you are going to die because of a death compass."

I scoffed. "Look, my Dad used to talk about this compartment in here. Soldiers used to hide secret notes," I explained, opening the back of the compass, twisting it.

I dumped the second piece on the floor, and read the back. In the metal, it was scratched in letters.

"Redfield," I questioned. "That wasn't there before," I said, confused. I handed it to John B.

"That's Dad's handwriting!" He exclaimed. "How can you know that?" Pope asked.

"Because," I said, taking the compass back, "he does these weird R's."

"Can I see it?"

"Redfield," I repeated. "If only we know what that means."

"Besides the most common name in the county."

I groaned in frustration. "Maybe it's a clue to where he's hiding. I know he's alive, Dylan. I know it!"

"Come on, that's—" Kie gave him a look. "But if it is a clue maybe an anagram. "Yes, perfect. Anagram. You need paper!" John B said, giving Pope paper. Rudy the Rooster crowed and I let out a sigh. "How can you concentrate with that thing crowing at you?" Pope asked, obviously annoyed by it.

"JJ's in love with the rooster. He kissed it during spin the bottle," I chanted and he chuckled at me. "I mean, hey, it was an inch far from pointing to you, so I can take what I can get," he chuckled and I rolled my eyes.

"JJ, stop flirting with my sister," John B demanded.

"Fine, Mom."

"I love the rooster," Kie added.

As we tried to anagram it down, I was cut by a different sound than a rooster. A truck.

"Guys! Somebody's here!" John B also said. The men got out and I realized, those were the men that shot at us and hurt Lana. "Is that them?!" Kie asked. "Oh shit!!" I exclaimed.

"John B, I told you, man!" JJ exclaimed. "JJ! Hey, look at me. Where is the gun?" John B asked him. "Gun? I, uh, I can't-"

"You don't have the gun when we need the gun!?" I exclaimed, shrugging and I putting my arms up.

"It was in my backpack, and then I-"

"Backpack—"

"On the porch," I realized, my eyes widening. JJ realized what I said, hurried out the door. "Go, go, go, go!" I whispered, pushing him out.

"John and Dylan Routledge!!!!!" The men yelled from the direction JJ was running towards.

I immediately was worried for JJ. "JJ!" I whispered, opening the door. "Dylan!" John B said, grabbing my arm. He quietly pushed me against the door. "Stay safe. And hidden."

I nodded and to my relief, JJ came back into the room. "They're on the front porch, guys," JJ told us.

"Get out here!" One of the men yelled.

"Routledge!" I could hear crashing coming from the living room. "Where you at, you fucking twins!!" I gasped.

"We gotta leave," Kie whispered. "Window!" I whispered. "It's painted shut," I told them. John B stood on the door, trying to stay calm. I scoured the place for a knife, and shoved it into the dried paint. Cutting it, it took time. "Where the hell's that compass!?"

"Come on! Come on! Come on!" JJ said. "I'm trying! I'm trying!" I said, hyperventilating. "Shh," John B told me. Suddenly, I realized my brother was having trouble keeping the door shut. "You better not be in there!"

They began kicking the door, so they had to move. "Annnd.. done!" I whispered, letting JJ try to open the window. Suddenly, I heard a gunshot right by the door. I hopped out of the window after Kie, running to the chicken coop.

-|-

I watched as the men carried out all of dad's work, while also trying to control my breath. "Do something, Pope!" JJ whispered, meaning the Rooster. "Shut him up!"

"What do you want me to do?"

"Pet it, talk to it, or even flirt! I don't give a shitty shit," I whispered, my voice cracking. My brother quickly sat back, and the men obviously realized the chickens. "You do something," Pope told JJ, and I shivered. JJ quickly wrestled the chicken, and grabbed it by the neck.

I watched in fear as it struggled to breathe, hyperventilating once again. I heard one last pop from the birds neck, and tears quickly fell down my face. My pet. My rooster.

JJ looked at me, as my lips quivered, and quickly sat beside me. My finger nails dug into the ground as I shook, and JJ latched onto my hand. I quickly huddled into his chest, for comfort. He pressed his other hand onto my mouth, making my breathing not as audible.

"It's ok," he said, shakily. I gripped his hand. "Dylan, it's ok. It's ok, Dylan," he tried convincing me.

"Ratter, what the hell are you doing? Let's go!!"

They quickly left and I let everything out, looking at the dead bird in front of me. I fell into the dirt, shaken. He picked me up, hugging me.