42nd Country Road

Why Didn't We Stay There?

"Thank you," He said, grinning his twisted grin. Grabbed a nearby lamp and smacked it across his head. His eyes swirled back to their normal blue color. He sat up holding his head.

"This is the reason why I always have headaches you know," He said.

"Ya, and you're the reason why I always have stitches," I said.

"Ouch," He said in response.

"I'll stitch you up in the living room," I said, exiting the blood stained room. I walked back to the living room. Mark had a pot in hand and the empty can of soup in the other. Jack came out of his room with blood rushing down his arm. I pointed to the couch and in response Jack sat down.

"Mark, do we have a med kit?" I asked.

"Ya, it's under the sink," he replied. I walked over to the sink and open the small doors at the bottom. I see the red first aid kit. I open it up and grab the small needle with the twine we use to normal stitch things up. I walked back over to Jack and start to sew it through his arm.

He moaned as his other hand gripped the arm of the couch. It took a few minutes to sew his arm back together again.

"Thanks, Ev" Jack said inspecting his arm.

"Go wash up," I told him. Jack walked outside and into the trees. There had to be a lake past the trees. That's what I was assuming anyway.

I went over to Mark and sat in front of the fire. Mark looked over at me.

"What's wrong?" He said.

"Nothing," I replied

"I've known you for how long, I know when something's up," He said, smiling.

"This place doesn't feel right," I said, turning my head to look at him. His smile turned to a frown.

"Why's that," he said in a stern voice.

"Something's wrong with this house," I replied, "I also feel watched,"

"Oh," Mark said. I saw a small movement in the corner above the broken fridge. I walked over to it and opened the door of the fridge, the smell of rotting meat stinging my nose. I reached the corner to see a small camera. I grabbed it out of the corner and showed it to Mark.

"I'm sick of this," he said dumping the chicken noodle soup into the fire, putting it out. Jack entered the house again, his arm much cleaner than before.

"What's going on?" Jack asked

"We're leaving," Mark replied from our room.

"What? Why?" Jack replied. I pointed to the camera. Jack went to his room and came out with a small backpack and a few guns. He handed one to me.

"Where'd you find this?" I asked him.

"Grabbed them right before we left the city," He responded. I checked if it was fully loaded. Thankfully it was.

"Ev, grab all the canned food and put it in this bag," Mark said tossing me his leather backpack. I had no idea how he still had this. I ran over to the cupboard and started to shove all the cans I could fit in the backpack. I wasn't done when Mark yanked the back of my shirt, pulling me out of the house. He lit a match and dropped it on the couch. My wounds ached as he set me against the tire of the small ford truck we had stolen. The house suddenly burst into flames. I went dark.

"Mark," I said in a whimper.

"Yes, pretty?" He replied

"Why didn't we stay in there?" I asked

"Yes, I agree. Why didn't we stay in there, Mark?" Jack said from the other side of the car, darkness hanging over his voice.

"I have a bigger plan," He said

"And what would that be?" I asked, looking at the burning building.

"It's a surprise pretty," Mark said, kneeling down to my face. He tilted my head up and bit my bottom lip. Jack grinned his stupid grin and got in the car. The normal came back in and I hopped in the back seat of the truck. Jack and Mark were back to normal. Mark started the truck and started to head down the paved road. Signs pointed to the highway and other side roads. It was so good to feel the fresh air through the open windows. I stared out the window and played music through my head. I closed my eyes and leaned it on the side of the car, feeling the soft sway of the vehicle.