Friday 2 August 2019

The Winnebago ...


I heard the gag and gurgle and turned to see B_ falling to her knees, her hands still clutching her robe tight to her throat as she heaved up bile and foamy spit.  It had all been too much for her and she wasn’t lying when she said she felt sick.
I went to her and squatted down, steadying her with my hands as she vomited then dry heaved.  She was as small and light and frail as a baby bird, and I worried about the child resting in her belly.
“We need to get you home.” I told her gently once she stopped heaving.  I eased her up to her feet, her body still curled around her core.
“I feel sick.” she said.
“I know.” I said.  Then Betts was there, taking B_ from my arms.
“I’ll take her and stay with her.” Betts said, her cheeks still wet with tears, “I can’t be here either.”
We took Lennox’s car and drove out to Conkle road.  We’d all came strapped when we got M_’s call that his father’s home was engulfed and his parents were nowhere to be found.  M_was waiting in his Charger when we arrived and he waved us on to follow him.
Uncharacteristic of M_, he idled down Conkle road then turned right onto a dirt path that lead to a cluster of brush and twisted trees.  We both parked and we all got out.  M_ had drawn his Taurus and chambered a round.  We did the same.
“We go the rest of the way on foot.” M_ said, leading us further down the path.  There were motorcycle tracks in the sand.
“What’s down here?” I asked him.
“The men who killed D_ and Tracy.” he said.
“How did you know they were dead?” I asked, “They just found the bodies before you texted.”
“I was there just after the fire started.” Ma_ said, “I heard the Harley’s light up as they left the park.  That’s what woke me up.  D_’s place was already burning hot and there was no sign of him or Tracy.”
“You followed the bikers.”
“Yeah and I watched.  They’re in there.” M_ said, pointing through the bush.  I could see the corner of an old Winnebago.

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