We Are Courageous {BOOK 1}

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Even if someone were to speak, I don't think anyone would know what to say.

Eli takes the van down a so called "shortcut" on a dirt road for ten ongoing minutes. Our van continues down the dirt road until dirt meets the paved back-roads.

Most call the kind of silence between our group painful, but I call it necessary and quite frankly, I enjoy it in some odd way or another. It gives me more time to think and less time worrying about the 'what ifs'. The what if New York is destroyed? What if I can't save it? What if I can't even save Evan and Ema? What if I die on this trip and never come back? What if no one ever knows that I died? What if I find my father? What if he's still alive? So many what if's, and I honestly am over thinking about all my questions and problems. I need to focus on the here and now. I need to worry about the future when it comes and fpcus on staying strictly in the present. 

I look down to the gun that rests in my lap and realize that I'm not sure how to feel about it. I've never seen a gun this close, yet alone held a weapon of any sort. This being the case, why am I so comfortable with having a weapon on my person? It didn't add up and it definitely didn't make sense. Yet, somehow it makes perfect sense. Perfect sense that I am familiar with a weapon without ever holding or operating one. Perfect sense that I am in my element, even though I've never left the Pure State. 

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We are almost two hours out when things take an unexpected turn. Curses fly from Eli's lips as he slams on the brakes. The tires squeal as theytry to gain traction on the pavement. The vehicle screeches to a sudden stop. Casper, who sits in the middle seat, barely has time to react before he shoots torwards the front of the vehicle, his face hitting against the dashboard. A loud pop echoes across the van along with the faint sound of cracking glass. I have no time to look at what is happening as I'm thrown forwards and into the back of the driver's seat. My cheek collides with the weathered, torn fabric on the back of the seat. My jaw pops on impact and a hiss of pain flees my lips. Once the car comes to a complete stop, I sit back in a daze as I rub my jaw. That will leave a nice bruise.

Casper falls back beside me, his fingers touching his bleeding forehead. A curse falls from his cracked and bleeding lips. With rage painted across his face, he pushes me back against my seat in order to get around me and outside of the van.

"What the hell happened?" He shouts as he runs around to the driver's seat, pulling an unconscious Eli out.

As Bunk struggles with the half-awake Eli, I crawl forwards to see what damage had been done and what Eli tried so hard to avoid hitting. Blood stains the passenger side of the windshield, the glass cracked and shattered. I have to force myself to look over to where the passenger sits. The boy's head hangs low, blood runs down the side of his forehead and seeps out from the left corner of his mouth. Two shards of glass embed themselves in the boys' head and neck. My hand clasps over my mouth. He's dead. The boy that rode up front next to Eli—whose name I don't even know—is dead. The sight distracts me from checking the damage and seeing what caused the commotion in the first place. 

Casper sets Eli against the road divider and slaps him on the cheek. Eli opens his eyes slowly with a groan. As Eli regains consciousness, Casper moves around to the other side of the car. My eyes follow the Nebraskan as he walks around the back of the car to get to the passenger side. Bunk yanks open the door and removes the dead body from the van as if it doesn't even phase him.