Ben Bedard - The World Without Flags

Finally the two of them swing up on their saddles and walk the horses toward us. Both Pest and I stand up as they approach. The two of them silently glower at me for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” I tell them. I am sorry.

Sidney stops looking at me and turns toward Pest. “Good luck to you,” he says.

“We’re coming back,” Boston says then. The way he says it, it’s hard to say if it’s a threat or a promise or what.

“Good luck to you too,” Pest says. I look over to him and feel that funny wrong feeling I get sometimes with Pest. There’s like layers and layers of meaning in it that you wouldn’t expect from a kid. Maybe Boston and Sidney have this feeling too because they both kind of half-smile at Pest, like they don’t know what else to do. Then they turn their horses away, get up on their horses, and start riding east, from where we came. They finally vanish from sight around the corner and a minute or so later, we can’t even hear the horses. I wave of relief hits me. I feel like I weigh nothing. I could almost laugh.

“Well, they’re gone,” Pest says.

“Good,” I say.

“Now, explain this to me, Kestrel,” Pest says. I turn to him, confused. Pest is frowning at me and holding out Norman’s gun in his hand. The blood drains from my face. I feel at the the small of my back by instinct, but there’s no gun. That’s the second time he’s done that to me. “Well?” Pest asks.

The momentary relief vanishes.

I’ve got new problems.

“Okay,” I say, holding out my hand, “just listen to me before you do anything.”

Pest hisses and starts walking toward the woods. “Did you kill him?” he asks over his shoulder as I follow. For some reason, this really irritates me.

“No, I didn’t kill him,” I say angrily. “Who do you think I am?”

Pest makes a sound between a cough and a laugh. “Oh, I know exactly who you are,” he says. “That’s why I asked.”

My face burns with shame. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you would do anything to protect Eric.”

Suddenly we’re in the shade of the woods and I can’t think of anything to say. My heart is hammering. I left my gun with the blanks back with Norman. I don’t have many options to deal with Pest. I look ahead and see him walking toward Eric and Norman. Most likely, Pest will untie Norman. And then when he wakes up, I’ll be in the same predicament as before. If Pest doesn’t shoot Eric himself. The thought panics me and I jump forward and run in front of Pest.

“Listen,” I say. “Just let us go. You don’t have to kill Eric.”

“Eric’s already dead,” Pest answers. He looks determined and he pushes by me. I think for a second it might be my chance to tackle him. Maybe wrestle the gun from him. But I’ve seen Pest fight. I saw it once last year. Gunner wrestled him to the ground and Pest just wriggled his way from under him and then beat him so bad, Gunner was in bed for two days. He’s small but scary. I will only try when it’s my last resort.

“No, he’s not,” I argue with his back. “Eric told me that some people survive the Worm.”

Pest doesn’t slow down.

“He said that Good Prince Billy told him that.” Suddenly we’re back with Eric and Norman. Neither of them has moved. Eric has his face directly in the tree, his nose squashed to the bark. As Pest turns to me, I continue, “If there’s a chance that Eric can come through, I have to make sure he has that chance.”

Pest eyes me and then glances toward Eric. Then he eyes me again. He has that spooky look I remember so well, the one that seems to hit me like heat vision, like he’s scanning my mind. It’s everything I can do not to look away from him like I usually do. I stand up straighter. Pest gives me that eye for another uncomfortable moment before he walks over to Eric. He studies him. I bite my lip. I don’t want to ruin this moment. Let him think. I’m afraid that if I push Pest too far, he’ll go against me, no matter what the argument.

“He’s never violent?” he asks, turning away from Eric.

“Never.” I shake my head.

“No biting or anything? No growling or screaming?”

“None of that,” I answer.

Pest reaches out and puts his hand on Eric’s shoulder for a second. It’s a gesture I didn’t expect. A touch of tenderness. It surprises me. Then Pest turns away and goes to sit on the same rock where Norman sat while I argued for Eric’s life. He sits and looks at Norman and then to Eric and then to me. He rubs his head with the butt of Norman’s gun. I stand, waiting, my heart thumping in me, planning what I should do based on whatever he decides. My options are not good.

“We’re supposed to kill him,” he says to me, finally. “We all gathered at the Lodge and that’s what we decided, or that’s what Franky wanted us to decide.” He looks at me steadily. “But that’s not what I decided.”

“What did you decide?” I ask. I don’t like how small my voice is now, but I’m afraid of this moment.

“I decided to help you,” he tells me.

I have to sit down. I’m crying a little again, soundlessly, from relief. I have never cried so much in my life. It’s exhausting.

“I owe it to Eric,” Pest explains. He puts away Norman’s gun. “There weren’t many people who would take in a gang of boys from the road. Most people drove us away.” Pest nodded toward Eric. “If he hadn’t let us in, if Eric hadn’t given us a chance, we’d all be dead. I owe him a chance.” Pest stands up and then begins to untie Norman.

“What’re we going to do?” I ask.

Pest shrugs. “We can’t leave Norman like this. He’ll die.”

I nod and help by taking the gag off of him. He groans when the sock comes out of his mouth. I look up at Pest who’s untying the rope. I reach out and touch his shoulder to get his attention.

“Thanks,” I tell him.

Pest just nods at me and then looks back at the knots.

When Norman is untied, I walk back to Eric. I pull him away from the tree.

“Unh,” he says.

“You’re okay,” I tell him. I reach into his shirt and pull out the rag I use to wipe his mouth. I clean him up a little, and I’m glad to see the quantity of black bile has gone down a lot since he coughed up that worm ball. I’m so glad that he’s still here, with me, that I don’t mind his smell that much. I want to hug him, but I’m afraid that he might snap his jaw and bite me accidentally. I settle for rubbing his shoulder. “You’re okay,” I tell him again. Then I tie the rope around him again.

When I turn back, Pest has Norman sitting up against a tree. I’m glad to see him unbound, but it makes me a little nervous too. Pest walks over to me and sighs.

“He’s going to wake up soon,” he says.

“He’s determined to kill Eric,” I say. “What’re we going to do?”

Pest looks at Eric and then at me. I watch as the dawn of a plan lights his face. “You’re going to run,” he says.

There are three horses at the Homestead: Bandit, Jezebel, and Flint. We use them all for work, so they don’t get ridden too much. Like I noticed before, the one that Norman and Pest rode on is Bandit. He was never my favorite. He was always lazy and obstinate and never wanted to do what he was told. The only person who could ever ride him well was Norman, and that was mainly out of fear. Norman has no patience with horses. If they don’t do what they are told, they know about it, quick. It’s my bad luck that when they went out in search of me, Norman took Bandit, just because he was the only one who could ride him well. As we try to get Eric up on Bandit, I wish we had Jezebel. She’s a sweet old thing.