Jeff Hirsch - The Darkest Path

“Gotta look after yourself too.”

Nat glared at me but yanked up her blood-soaked sleeve. I cleaned the wound with antiseptic and a length of the bandage, then opened the suture kit and selected a threaded needle.

“What are you doing with that?”

“You need stitches.”

“I’ll wait for a medic.”

“They’re busy,” I said, and hooked the needle into her arm.

“Ow!”

“Sorry.” I slipped the needle in and out of her skin, remembering our survival instructor’s admonitions to keep the stitches small and tight.

“Your friends in the Path teach you that?”

“They’re not my friends.” I said. “ Your friends in the Fed teach you how to assault a supply truck?”

“My mom did.”

I looked up to see if she was joking.

“Oh, right,” Nat said. “You Path guys prefer your women in veils instead of body armor.”

“I’m not Path,” I said.

“Maybe, but you sure looked surprised when you figured out it was me who was in charge tonight.”

There was a teasing glint in Nat’s eye.

“Well… maybe a little,” I said. “This is going to sting.”

I finished the suture, then pulled to make sure the edges of the wound were tight together. Nat hissed as I did it.

“Sorry.”

I tied off and unrolled the bandages. Bear left his dinner to lie down between us, presenting his belly to be rubbed. Nat obliged.

“I learned everything from my mom,” she said as I began to wrap her arm. “She was in the Army since I was little. Became a ranger as soon as they started taking women. Most of my friends were playing with dolls while I was learning how to strip an AR-15.”

“She out east now?”

Nat shook her head. “Her unit got hit by a Path drone a few months ago.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I—”

“Forget it,” Nat said. “Everybody’s got a story, right?”

Neither of us spoke as I finished wrapping her arm. The building was silent, just the distant sound of bodies moving in other rooms, and the rise and fall of Nat’s breath. I had the awkward realization that I hadn’t been alone in a room with a girl since I was nine years old.

I quickly packed up the suture kit, then looked over my shoulder at one of the science lab’s windows. It was still dark, but it couldn’t be much longer until sunup. I thought about all those vehicles sitting outside and all the miles me and Bear still had to go.

“I thought I’d feel good about it.”

I turned back. Nat’s hand had gone still on Bear’s side and she was staring at the tile floor.

“I mean, they were Path,” she said. “Right? And we needed the medicine. But when I think about it, when I see that guy lying there I—” Nat cut herself off, overcome. “He didn’t look much older than Steve.”

“That’s your friend?” I asked. “The one who got hurt in the strike?”

She nodded. “He hasn’t been conscious much since the attack. And when he is, he’s in so much pain that it’s like…” Nat faltered, searching for the right words. “It’s like he’s right there, alive, in front of me, but at the same time…”

“It’s not him.”

Nat’s pale brown eyes met mine. She nodded, then looked away. Her jaw clenched as she gritted her teeth, determined not to cry in front of me.

“I think all you can do is try to push it away,” I said. “Move on.”

“Move on to what?” Nat demanded.

“I just—”

“I don’t want to move on,” she said. “I want to find the part of me that makes killing them hard and rip it out.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yeah,” she said, eyes blazing, “I do.”

“Natalie!”

The door to the science lab banged open and a man in a brown police uniform came storming in. Before either of us could say a word, he grabbed me by the arm and slammed me into the lip of the table.

“Hey! What are you—”

Bear started barking as the man yanked my elbows behind me. Steel cuffs closed on my arms, just above where my cast ended.

“What are you doing?” Nat said. “Dad, answer me!”

“The guys told me he’s Path, Nat. He’s going to jail.”

“He’s a runner,” Nat said. “And he helped us.”

“Helped you do something you had no business doing!” Nat’s father pulled me off the table and moved me between him and his daughter, his big hands clamped on my arms.

“You and your friends could have been killed.”

“But we weren’t!”

“And it’s a miracle! If your mom was here—”

“She’d be proud of me!”

Nat stood with her chin thrust out, her face reddening with anger.

“We will talk about this in the morning,” her father said. “For now I want you home. And if you so much as set a foot outside the front door, one foot , I swear you will end up in a cell beside his. Now go.”

“He doesn’t belong in jail,” Nat insisted.

“And how do you know that, Natalie? How do you know that some kid you just met isn’t a spy? How do you know the Path isn’t going to come running when they hear their post was overrun? You think they’re going to let that go?”

Nat looked away from her father and stared at the floor.

“Yeah, you might have helped save some of these people, but what if what you did helps put a hundred more in their position? Or a thousand? You think Steve would have wanted you to make that trade?”

“You don’t know what he’d want,” Nat hissed.

“Pretty sure he’d want you to think a minute before you nearly get yourself killed,” he said. “Now get home.”

Nat’s father yanked at my arm, leading me and Bear through the gym and outside, where he pushed me up against a police cruiser. Wade’s truck sat two rows down. If I had just taken Bear and walked out when I had the chance….

“Gonna tranq that dog if you can’t keep him calm.”

“Bear,” I said, pulling out of the man’s grip and kneeling beside him. “Take it easy, pal. It’s fine. We’ll get this worked out and then we’ll be on our way. Okay?”

Bear whimpered and pushed his muzzle into my cheek.

“I’ve got a kennel back at the station for our dogs,” Nat’s father said, his voice softening somewhat. “We can keep him there until we get you sorted out. He’ll be fed and watered, just like you.”

A police van pulled up behind us, and another deputy hopped out. He threw open the back door and waited. Bear whined and I leaned into his ear.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” I whispered. “I swear. Now go.”

Bear didn’t resist when the deputy led him into the van. Once they were away, Nat’s father opened his door and pushed me into the back. He slammed the door and started the engine.

I looked out the window and saw that Nat and her friends had gathered on the sidewalk. Nat watched, arms crossed angrily over her chest as her father took me away.

Nat’s father and I wound through the streets of Waylon on the way to the police station. I was in the back, leaning painfully against my side to keep from crushing my bound arms.

Most every house we passed was dark, with windows and doors boarded up. The cruiser’s headlights caught scarred and crumbling buildings and lots full of ashes. In places, it looked like entire neighborhoods had been flattened.

“Admiring your people’s handiwork?”

“They’re not my people,” I said. “Let me talk to the Feds and I’ll explain.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said. “I’m pretty sure some intelligence folks will be very eager for a chat.”

He pulled the car around a low brick building and parked next to the van that had taken Bear away. Once he hauled me out, we made our way through three locked doors and into the jail. There, cops milled about amid a near-constant screech of radio traffic. Fluorescent lights pounded down on white tile. My eyes ached from the glare. How did these people stand it?