Shattered Horizon

26 Liam

Chapter twenty six
Liam

Days blur together as we walk. Bo's constant question, "Are you okay to keep going?" echoes in my ears. My ankle throbs, a constant reminder of my ordeal. But I manage a reassuring smile. "Hurts, but I'm managing," I tell him.
We left Joanna's at the end of November. Georgia by Christmas was the plan, but those two lost weeks with Rose's captors... My stomach twists. Christmas is just a few days away. We have nothing, but I want to get Bo and Iris something,anything, to show my gratitude. Iris had said we should be stopping soon, consulting a worn map. Supposedly, there's a small abandoned town nearby.
We reached the town. Snow-covered streets lie eerily quiet, a dead Vry splayed across the pavement. "I'm not liking this," Bo mutters.
"We stay long enough to rest," Iris declares, her voice firm. "Then we leave at nightfall. Five hours, someone is always awake."
I nod, but my gaze lingers on the desolate scene. We reach a row of storefronts, their contents undisturbed. Iris chooses an abandoned diner as our shelter. I pause, and they stop with me.
"Go on ahead," I say. "I just need...a notebook. I'll meet you there."
"We'll stay," Bo insists. My eyes meet Iris's, pleading for a few moments of solitude.
"Come on, Bo," she says, tugging at his arm. "Let's look around here."
His eyes remain locked on me. "I'm staying with Liam."
"I'll be fine," I sigh. "Truly. Just a few minutes, and I'll be there."
Reluctantly, he takes Iris's hand. "Fine. But if you need anything, scream. I'll be there in a heartbeat." He lingers, then lets Iris lead him away. Bo's been overprotective since the mobile home. Every wince, every halting step, and he's there,hovering. He insists he doesn't blame himself, but deep down, I know he does.
I enter the shop, the air thick with dust and the scent of undisturbed decay. Cobwebs drape abandoned shelves, but everything seems untouched, frozen in time. In the office supply aisle, I snag several notebooks and pencils. Never hurts to be prepared.
My heart thuds against my ribs as I reach the drugstore section. I scramble past leg braces and wrist supports, fingers finally closing around two ankle braces. I cram them into my backpack. In the health aisle, a box of condoms catches my eye â€" expired in 2025. Doesn't matter. I stuff them deep inside the bag. My gaze lands on a small stuffed dog, its fur matted, and a worn picture frame - empty. I snatched them both."
Bo still comes to mind. Frantically, I search, but nothing feels right for him. Discouraged, I step back outside. The chill bites at my skin, and a prickle of unease crawls up my spine. There's no sign of Bo or Iris.
One last place. A dusty pawn shop beckons across the empty street. Maybe inside... I push through the door, the stale air mirroring the sense of abandonment. Old electronics, trinkets long forgotten...
The abandoned guitar store still holds the echo of forgotten melodies. I wish Henry were here to teach me a song worthy of Bo. Then, my eyes land on the book, the final Hunger Games installment. Bo's excitement when he talked about the series bubbles up as a warm smile. This is perfect for him.
Something glitters in the corner, drawing me towards the jewelry case. My fingers trace the dust away, revealing a ring unlike any I've seen. The bold combination of blue, red diamond, and black feels strangely right. My breath catches. This isn't about impulsive desire. This is about forever.
Bo is my everything. The thought echoes in my heart, a certainty stronger than any doubt. Suddenly, it all makes sense.Not theft, but destiny. This ring, found in this forgotten place, it's meant to be a promise. The pocket where it now rests feels warmer, filled with a hope that outshines any lingering unease.

A shout cuts through the stillness.

"Liam!"

I stumble out of the pawn shop, a surge of excitement battling a flicker of nervousness. Bo rushes towards me, worry quickly morphing into a relieved smile.
"You okay?" he asks, and it's not just about my physical well-being.
I nod, unable to hold back my own smile "Found some ankle braces that might help me walk better," I tell him. Maybe this isn't the perfect moment for everything, but it's a start.
He squeezes my hand. "Great! We'll get you all fixed up at the diner."
I sit on watch, the ring a cool, comforting weight in my pocket. I pull out my drawing, the faces of our makeshift family warming my heart, and I slip it into the frame. The stuffed dog joins it in the gift bag.