21 - Runaway

934 10 0
                                        

John B was on his knees beside Sheriff Peterkin, both hands pressing his bandana hard against her chest, shaking with the effort of holding steady, his knuckles white with the pressure of it

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.





John B was on his knees beside Sheriff Peterkin, both hands pressing his bandana hard against her chest, shaking with the effort of holding steady, his knuckles white with the pressure of it.

"Hey. Hey. Hold still. Hold still. It's okay. Where is it? I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." His voice cracked every time she gasped, and each crack landed somewhere raw in my own chest.

Sarah and I stood together, her hand locked in mine, both of us leaning on each other because without that we might not have stayed upright, my legs going watery and useless beneath me.

Our brother had just shot someone.

The thought kept repeating itself, refusing to settle into anything I could actually process.

"Dad!" Rafe yelled.

"Hey — wait." Dad stepped forward.

"Hey!" Rafe swung the gun at John B.

"Rafe — no! Rafe!" Dad hissed.

"Don't try it," Rafe said, the second he saw the radio in John B's hand.

"Rafe — John B, give me the radio," Dad said.

"No." John B's voice cracked, but his grip didn't, and something in me clung to that steadiness like a rope.

"Come on. Give me the damn radio." Dad wrenched it away.

"Rafe, I've got it. Calm down. Put the gun down. I've got it."

Sheriff Peterkin forced a breath out. "Run."

John B shook his head, eyes red. "I'm not leaving you."

"He can't do anything," Dad said to Rafe.

"Yeah," Rafe nodded.

"I've got you. You're okay," Dad said.

Another ragged breath from her. "Run!"

"I'm sorry." John B's voice broke clean through.

Then he bolted toward us.

"Where are you going?" Rafe yelled.

"Both of you, go. Right now." I looked between John b and Sarah, the panic burning high in my throat, my whole chest a live wire.

"Where are you going, John B?" Rafe's voice dropped into something darker, something that made every hair on my arms stand up.

John B met my eyes — one look, a whole conversation — then turned and ran.

"Sarah, go!" I begged.

"Stella!" Dad yelled.

"No!" I screamed as Rafe raised the gun, my whole body lurching forward without thinking.

"Rafe, no! Wait — Rafe, please!" Dad grabbed his arm, and Sarah and I sprinted back to Peterkin, my knees hitting the pavement hard.

I dropped to my knees. The blood on her shirt was spreading fast, dark and slick under my hands, and something in me went numb looking at it even as my chest screamed.

✯ North Star ✯Stories to obsess over. Discover now