Albert Peterson: The Hibernia Strain

I’m in no state to judge their intent, are they all in on this? I fucked up, and now Emma and Tom could end up paying the price, maybe even Matt, if he actually makes it here.

Wait . Despite the splitting pain in my head, I feel something sticking into my back. The rifle! I must have landed on it when Jo knocked me off him.

I awkwardly shift my weight whilst trying to pull it from behind my back with my left hand. I shuffle backwards until my back hits some kitchen presses for me to partially prop myself up against, into a slumped sitting position.

Each of them takes a step back as the gun is revealed. It looks like the clumsy manner in which I’m brandishing the weapon is more unnerving to them than if I was fully in control of it.

What are my options? Do I try and shoot them? They might not all be in on it. Do I just try and shoot Fred? He’s got it coming, but am I willing to actually murder someone who’s not a spook? Although, in hindsight that probably would’ve been the result if Jo hadn’t just stopped me.

I’m sitting here in pain, trying my best to appear cognitive but sooner or later they’re gonna figure out that I can barely see straight right now, let alone shoot straight and that they could probably just walk up to me and take the gun right out of my hands.

Fred takes a staggered step forward, and in response I direct the gun in his general direction. I could fire a warning shot but I only actually saw him put one bullet in the chamber as he walked in.

What I wouldn’t give to see Matt kick the door next to me off its hinges and make his entrance, armed to the teeth. I hold my breath for a second as if it might actually happen, but no. Why can’t life be more like corny action films every now and again?

Fred takes another step, a bit steadier on his feet saying, “Take it easy guy, you got the wrong end of the stick about all this.”

I think he’s picked up on my current compromised state of awareness. I can’t really focus too well but it looks like he’s trying to conceal a carving knife or something behind his right forearm but he might be genuine.

It’s a risk I can’t take; my options have just reduced to one. I raise the gun, ready to fire. My chances of hitting him are slim, but hopefully Emma will hear the shot from the other side of the house and she’ll be able to get Tom out of here.

“Please stop,” Meg pleads to both of us from behind the kitchen island to my left.

She stands up out of cover as she says, “Shawn, Fred’s right. You don’t know the whole story. Please give us a chance to explain before someone gets killed.”

I look at her and pause. Jo stands up next to her.

“Shawn, I don’t understand exactly what’s happening but I trust Meg completely, please listen to her.”

She does sounds genuine, and Emma did say she was very concerned with our safety earlier on. The only wild card is this Fred. Shit ! I took my eye of him like an idiot. He’s managed to get close enough to make a grab for the gun barrel. My reflexes are nonexistent and it’s all already happened before I know a thing about it.

Not only does he pull it from my hand, but for good measure he plunges the sole of his boot into the side of my face, knocking me to the ground again.

“Ughhh,” I let out a groan of pain.

That was a bit excessive, but who am I to talk.

I’ve done it now; I’ve relinquished the control of my fate. It’s time to find out if they’re on the level.

As I’m lying here on my side with bloody drool dripping from my cheek, the only thought going through my head is how I wish he had kicked me hard enough to knock me out, at least then I wouldn’t have to feel this shitty. I might even have scored some more morphine out of it if they don’t plan on killing me.

They must think I’m out cold because all four of them make a joint effort to lift and carry me to one of the nearby recliner chairs. I just let them without saying a word. I’m not sure I could manage it myself at the minute in any case.

Jo starts to jog towards the stairs saying, “I’ll get Emma to bring down her medical stuff.”

Paul, who hasn’t said a word yet, calls her back with authority in his voice, “No Jo! Come back here.”

“What? We can’t leave them like this.”

Meg adds in, with a bit more diplomacy in her voice, “ Yes, come back and sit down Jo. We’ve got some matters to sort out first.”

Finally Fred, who has his rifle in hand and is looking at me with contempt, says to no one in particular, “You’ve got that right.”

It has all the feeling of an interrogation as Paul, Meg and Fred sit down on various bits of furniture right in front of me. Jo hangs back in the background, listening intently.

The only one of the three that I feel is slightly on my side is Meg; she’s got compassion in her eyes. The other two are cold and indifferent to the pain I’m obviously in.

Meg explains to me how I misinterpreted what I overheard and that Emma Matt and I were never in any danger from them at all. Before she offers anymore explanation, the topic of discussion shifts to Emma and how well I know her and her family.

They all pause and look at each other for a second when I reveal that I actually just met Emma yesterday and I have no idea who her family are, as well as having no relationship with her other than being a friend of a friend.

As the interrogation continues, the dynamic changes, it’s as if these revelations have somehow aligned me more with them and they begin to talk to me accordingly.

I’m not sure I like the direction we’re going in but I’m still recovering from a boot to the face, what choice do I have only to hear them out?

What have I landed myself in here? Three days ago I was your average paranoid insomniac, content in my slightly numb life, but like it or not, my choices don’t just affect me anymore. Emma, Tom and I, we’re all in this together now; some weird version of a surrogate family thrown together by the chaos of the world having a hissy fit.

Responsibility was never my strong point though. And where the fuck is Matt? He’s taking his bloody time! Despite how it looks, I know him too long to accept that he has just lain down and died while trying to get back to us. Plus I owe him a smack across the head for getting me into all of this.