Ryan Westfield - Getting Out

“I’ve got a gun trained on you,” shouted James. “And I won’t hesitate to shoot you in the head. Return what you’ve taken, and leave. If you don’t want to die.”

James hoped that sounded convincing enough.

To his horror, the man started to laugh to himself.

“So you’re some kid out there in the woods? You’ve got your dad’s hunting rifle, is that it?”

James didn’t know what to say. He didn’t answer.

“How old are you, anyway?” shouted the man. “Twelve? Thirteen?”

James was feeling anxiety and anger rising in his chest. He was far older, and the man knew it, but he was just trying to talk down to him, trying to switch the power dyanmic. But even though James was smart enough to recognize that, he felt powerless to stop it. After all, he wasn’t an adult. He didn’t know how to talk like one.

“Look, kid,” said the man. “I was a cop. Fifteen years on the force. I’ve seen shit you wouldn’t imagine. I’ve shot guys. I’ve been shot, too, twice. I worked in the city. I’ve seen shit you wouldn’t believe. Now if you think you’re going to scare me with some line about blowing my head off…” He started laughing again. “Just forget it. Just forget it.”

The man started walking towards the bed of the truck casually. He peered inside, taking his time examining the provisions, deciding what he wanted to take. He was doing it very obviously. Apparently he wanted James to truly understand who had the power here, making it less likely that James would shoot him.

“Don’t move!” shouted James, anger starting to overtake the anxiety. His face felt red and hot. His chest felt full of the anger, which was coursing through him.

But James had enough sense not to just haul off and shoot the guy right there because he was a dick, and because he was angry.

“Look, kid,” said the man. “I don’t doubt you’ve got a gun. But come on, have you ever shot someone before? Are you really prepared to shoot at me, miss, and then hit me with your second shot? And watch me bleed out in agony on the pavement? I don’t think you’re ready for that reality, and I think you won’t be able to shoot me. I could easily rush you right now, and you’d be too much of a pussy to even fire a single shot… I could take that gun from you and turn it on you.”

“I thought he was a cop,” whispered Sadie.

Sadie was more innocent than James. In her world, all cops were good guys.

James knew that they weren’t all bad guys, but that sometimes things were more complicated than they seemed. He knew that extreme situations pushed people into new roles. And he knew that some cops were dicks. He and his friends had been harassed and taken down to the station once when they were visiting West Philly on a Friday, just because they’d gone to some punk show.

James had to say something, but he didn’t know what.

Why couldn’t his mom be there?

But he was a man.

He didn’t need his mom to protect him and his sister, and their stuff.

“I may be younger,” shouted James. “But this shit won’t work. I’m telling you, I’m going to shoot.”

The man just laughed and grabbed a couple items from the bed of the pickup.

“You don’t have it in you, kid,” said the man.

James’s instincts were telling him to shoot now. His anger was telling him to shoot. It was his mind that was telling him not to, but now it was swinging around. They needed that stuff.

“Just cause the power’s off, doesn’t mean you’re going to shoot an ex-cop.”

The man has his back to James and Sadie. For all James knew, the man might get in his car and drive away, never to be seen again. James thought of how much they needed those provisions, of the long days ahead when times would be tough… What if someone got injured, and Sadie or his mom got hurt?

James pulled the trigger.

His aim was good. The bullet struck the man in the back of the head. His body crumpled to the ground with a sickening thud.

The bags of groceries he’d been holding fell to the ground, making a clattering noise on the pavement.

James instantly felt sick. His blood felt hot.

“Holy shit,” said Sadie.

The scene was eerie. The SUV was still running.

Shit, what had he just done?

But he knew he had to be a man about this.

“Stay there,” he told Sadie. “There might be someone else in that car. Keep your gun up like this.”

He moved her hands and her rifle so that she was holding it properly.

“If you need to, aim it and pull the trigger,” said James.

Sadie looked scared, terrified. The reality was hitting her.

James had never killed someone before, let alone seen a dead body.

He started walking through the woods down to the road, moving carefully. Part of his mind was focused on his footing, just some trivial practical thing. The other part of his mind was reeling from what he’d just done. He’d taken a life. He’d killed a man.

As James got closer, he saw the body more clearly.

He leaned over and puked. There wasn’t much in his stomach, but whatever it was, it came up, vile and nasty. He could already smell the puke.

But as soon as he vomited, he felt better.

He walked slowly towards the body. There wasn’t any need to see if he was dead. He definitely was, his brains splattered on the pavement. It was just like those horrible pictures James had seen on the internet.

James peered into the car. He was a little too dazed and shocked from the experience to lead with his gun.

But there was no one in the car. James double-checked the back, in case someone was hiding there.

James looked up and down the long stretch of empty road under the grey cloudy sky. There was no one.

Where was his mom?

James opened the driver’s door, got in, and parked the SUV in front of the pickup. He had to maneuver around the man’s dead body. He didn’t want to add insult to injury (or death, rather) by squashing the man’s body.

He killed the engine and got out.

He grabbed the bags of groceries from the backseat and walked towards the pickup. Then he stopped, realizing that the pickup didn’t work.

It suddenly hit him and he felt like an idiot. Now they had a car.

He put the groceries back.

“Sadie!” he called out, gesturing for her to come down. “It’s safe. There’s no one here.”

“Mom told us to stay in the woods,” called back Sadie.

“I know, I know, but come down! I need your help with something!”

“I’m not going down there,” shouted Sadie.

Sighing, James walked back to her. It seemed to take forever. Time seemed to be slowing down. He wondered if it was the adrenaline. He had to step over the dead man’s body, and when he walked along the grass, he saw that there was blood on the bottom of his shoe from the pavement.

Sadie looked completely terrified. She looked exhausted. And hungry.

“He’s dead?” said Sadie. She knew he was dead. She definitely already knew.

James nodded. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“I know,” said Sadie quietly.

“Sadie,” said James, crouching down in front of her. “I know Mom told us to stay up here. But we’ve got to make a decision.”

“What decision?”

“Well, we’ve got a working car now. Four wheel drive, everything we need.”

“So?”

“So I think we maybe should go drive and look for Mom.”

“Are you crazy? She told us to stay here.”

“I know, I know. But look, it’s getting late. And the clouds look darker. I think it might rain, or even storm.”

“We can’t just leave,” said Sadie. “Mom’s going to be coming back to look for us. What happens when she comes back and we’re not here?”

“I know, but I thought of that. But look at it this way. We know Mom’s going to be coming back down from the direction she came. Either a car or on foot. We’ll see her if we drive that way. Right?”