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From a LeapGate prompt: Expertise
The first time Sara saw her ex-husband shoot someone she kept running. Later, when they were safely hidden in the top of a boarded-up bell tower, she threw up.
She'd grown her hair out in the years since their divorce, and he held it back for her, his other hand heavy on her shoulder. It felt like an apology, and when her stomach was empty, she turned to him, crawling into his arms like he hadn't allowed her to all those years ago, right after Charlie--
She closed her eyes and let him hold her until she fell asleep.
It was the end. He had called her to let her know.
She remembers standing at the sliding glass door, the early spring rains falling down it like a curtain, like tears, and how she knew he spoke the truth by the way her mind went carefully blank for just a moment.
She heard her voice before she'd known what she decided.
"Where are you?"
There was a pause. "You'd be better off not knowing."
She shook her head, a futile gesture. "I don't care."
He told her to meet him somewhere, and she did. She'd moved back east, but she hadn't known he'd moved that way, too. She packed a small bag with ridiculous things they discarded along the trail they made as they headed west. Always west. She remembered seeing the land from the airplane, wondering at how big it was, but now she knew how big it felt, step by step.
She didn't throw up after that first time, but she couldn't bring herself to touch the extra gun he had, either. Stupid, she knew, but it didn't matter to her fingers when they started shaking at the thought. He never asked her to, either, not once.
They'd live or die based on his expertise and their luck. Sara curled up next to him at night and wondered if the one was enough to balance the other.
The first time Sara saw her ex-husband shoot someone she kept running. Later, when they were safely hidden in the top of a boarded-up bell tower, she threw up.
She'd grown her hair out in the years since their divorce, and he held it back for her, his other hand heavy on her shoulder. It felt like an apology, and when her stomach was empty, she turned to him, crawling into his arms like he hadn't allowed her to all those years ago, right after Charlie--
She closed her eyes and let him hold her until she fell asleep.
It was the end. He had called her to let her know.
She remembers standing at the sliding glass door, the early spring rains falling down it like a curtain, like tears, and how she knew he spoke the truth by the way her mind went carefully blank for just a moment.
She heard her voice before she'd known what she decided.
"Where are you?"
There was a pause. "You'd be better off not knowing."
She shook her head, a futile gesture. "I don't care."
He told her to meet him somewhere, and she did. She'd moved back east, but she hadn't known he'd moved that way, too. She packed a small bag with ridiculous things they discarded along the trail they made as they headed west. Always west. She remembered seeing the land from the airplane, wondering at how big it was, but now she knew how big it felt, step by step.
She didn't throw up after that first time, but she couldn't bring herself to touch the extra gun he had, either. Stupid, she knew, but it didn't matter to her fingers when they started shaking at the thought. He never asked her to, either, not once.
They'd live or die based on his expertise and their luck. Sara curled up next to him at night and wondered if the one was enough to balance the other.
