Darkness (part 2)

Rain splattered down his face. Green, red and black spots danced in front of his eyes. His breathe came out in gasps as he slowly staggered along the row of houses. Peter did not hope to find a shelter but the pain was way too much. The bullet had hit him below the shoulder blades. He was till mobile so that meant his spinal cord had been unaffected by the bullet. But that deduction didn't bring any relief to him. He was still in excruciating pain and slowly bleeding to death. Peter had waited till the man was gone, then somehow staggered to his feet and started walking. He forced himself to keep walking even when all his senses begged for him to stop and fall, embrace the inevitable. But Peter walked on. He had left behind a block almost. He saw occasional corpses here and there and closed doors. No one was willing to help a stranger. Most houses didn't have any inhabitants left. The ones which did, didn't want to invite trouble. Each step reminded Peter that he was alone.

Suddenly he could go no more. He felt himself giving up. He had pushed his body to the limit and now his body was fighting back, it was shutting down. No matter how much he tried, he could not take another step forward. He looked forward. He was standing in front of a small house, with a white door. All he had to do was climb 4 steps. Just 4 steps. But his legs refused. He fell down and despite the pain pulled himself up onto the final step. The front porch was still wet from the heavy shower. He reached for the doorbell but it was too high and he didn't have any strength to get up. He could feel his vision blurring, the dancing spots grew heavier. He was getting dizzy. With the last burst of energy, he knocked on the door, twice. He knew no one was coming but at least the porch was covered, which meant he was safe from the direct rain. Not that it mattered anyway. Where he was going, nothing mattered. Maybe that’s why it was a better place. Maybe he was already there because it was dark, very dark. The pain was almost gone. Peter was finally at peace, he already like this ‘better place’.

Jean hated the world around her. She hated what the world had come to. She had witnessed the most heinous of crimes, crimes she never thought man could resort to. The rioting, the mass outrage, fighting, killing disgusted her. The only thing she hated more was the feeling of helplessness. She couldn't do anything to help the people, to save at least some of them. After all, her brother was out there; But not among the victims, among the perpetrators, the monsters leading the mob. While her brother’s prolonged absence worried her, she was thankful that at least with him gone, the house was peaceful. All she could do now was pray for the departed souls and the ones they left behind. She could only hope that someday this would end. She was lost in thought when she heard a faint knock on her door.

 “Joyce?” She called. No answer, just another faint knock.

Jean remained silent. She carefully listened for any sign of disturbance outside but everything was quiet. Finally she gathered enough courage to open the door.

There was no sign of her brother. Instead, a boy her age lay at her feet. Her clean porch was streaked with red. The boy was bleeding profusely but he wasn't moving. Jean instinctively checked for his pulse. It was there, weak, but there still. He was alive. The unexpected arrival had left her flabbergasted but she took a few deep breaths to calm herself. She quickly surveyed the street to check if anyone was watching, then she slowly pulled the boy inside her house and closed the door behind them. She locked it for good measure. She finally had some work to do.

Three hours had passed. Jean had somehow managed to stop the flow of blood from his knee which had a deep gash. The boy had a bullet wound on his back which worried her. For the lack of anything better, she had used a kitchen knife to scoop out the bullet. After she had dressed the wounds, she scooped few spoonful of water into his mouth, which, she was happy to see, he swallowed. She switched off the lights, drew the curtains together ad lighted a candle. She had made every arrangement to make sure that the house looked in empty. Then she sat down beside his bed and waited.