Dead Men Walking

Arthur | Chapter 4 |

      I packed everything we had back into their respective bags, making sure not to crush anything. Peter was upset about the move, but we had to. We had to keep going. I looked over at Alfred, who was sitting on the ground looking at some photographs. I wasn't willing to bring him along. Besides, we barely knew anything about him, and the second we turn our backs he could kill us. Maybe he even had a secret blade in his socks he was waiting to use? Actually, on second thought, he didn't have any socks. Just sneakers. His feet must be blistered. Without thinking I grabbed a ball of socks from one of the bags, taking two and tossing them over at the man. He seemed surprised when they made contact with him, so he must have been staring off into space in the direction of the pictures. Alfred looked up and gave me a smile. A smile. What a stupid thing to receive in times like this. The only smile I'd accept is one from Peter. He hadn't smiled in an awfully long while. Come to think of it... has he ever smiled at me? Around me? I looked over at the young boy, who still was sorting his cards, and let out a sigh. No. I have never seen him smile while in my presence. Was I that much of a miserable person? Then, I remember what I found him a while ago. I had been saving it for a time like this or worse. My hand dug its way into my small backpack, grabbing hold of a bar. It was most likely still good. Carefully stuffing it into my coat pocket, I stood and walked over to my younger brother. "Peter, stand up and put your cards away. I have something for you."

      Peter looked up at me and stared for a moment before nodding slowly, stacking the cards into a neat pile before sliding them into their box. His blond hair was matted with dirt and blood. Was it his own blood or someone else's? I now knew the first thing we had to do once we found a flowing stream. If it was iced over... we'd just have to break through. I shook my head lightly to myself and watched as Peter slowly pushed himself to his feet. The young boy even had to use the wall as support. "What is it, meanie?"

      I looked past the name and slid the bar of chocolate out of my pocket, holding it out to him. "As a sorry for us having to leave this cabin," I muttered softly, not wanting Allistor to hear. He wouldn't want me being this soft to the boy. He'd say he'd have to grow up and toughen during a time like this. Peter extended his hand to grab it, but he then slightly pulled back hesitantly. What was he doing? I looked at his face and saw his nose was wrinkled. Did he not have the appetite any more to even eat a bar of his favorite chocolate? "If you don't want it now, I can save it for later." As soon as I said that, Peter quickly grabbed it and held it close. I could tell he didn't want to lose this. I give him a smile and lightly ruffle his hair. As I did this, I could tell his hairs were stuck together from the dry mud, dirt, and blood. "Good. Make sure you don't let Allistor see." With those final words, I turned and walked over to one of the chairs. We'd leave in a few minutes, or a few hours. I just needed a nap.