BORRASCA - Bagian 5 - Chapter 20 (English) - END

I stood outside of one the massive tents the feds had erected on the tarmac of Drisking’s small airport. It was old, crumbling, and abandoned – but they were sure as hell landing shit here now. Grant had promised Kimber to me within the hour and I nervously smoked a cigarette in the cold while waiting outside the giant tent. They told me they’d needed to hold her longer than me because Kimber had admitted to killing a Law Enforcement Officer. Grant said the prosecutor would almost certainly decline to press charges due to the circumstances rapidly coming to light. But still, it was early days and the waters were murky. We’d no longer be in custody but we weren’t allowed to leave town, either.

I pulled my jacket tighter as the wind cut down the thoroughfares and alleyways of the sprawling tent city or, as Grant referred to it, Central Ops. Special Agent Trippine had given me the thick, brown duster I was currently wearing since my own jacket had been taken in as evidence – which didn’t bother me because this coat was warmer, anyway.

“Sam!” I turned around just as Kimber jumped on me, wrapping her arms around my back and squeezing tightly. I buckled, grunting in pain and trying not to drop her. Kimber released me immediately. “I’m sorry! I forgot you got shot!”

“Well, you sure fucking reminded me,” I winced. Trippine walked up from behind Kimber and nodded at me. “You can go. There’s a Ford Explorer you can use parked off of Draper across from the Mobile Command Unit.  Here are the keys. Don’t leave town and don’t talk to the media. Or the locals. In fact, don’t talk to anybody.”

We found the car right where’d he said and climbed in, slamming the doors on the biting wind. “You’re going to have to drive.” I said. “I don’t think I can manage it.”

“Don’t they have you on any painkillers?” Kimber asked.

“Prescription Tylenol.”

“Oh my God, I want to cry for you. But still, good for you, Sam.” She smiled at me and pulled out onto the road. “Honestly I can’t believe they discharged you from the hospital after only a few days. You got shot in the chest.”

“I’m well aware,” I laughed.  “But they had to – the hospitals are full. Every hospital within fifty miles and a mobile one for the least severe cases is what I was told.”

“Holy shit.” Kimber breathed. “How many women were there at Borrasca?”

“You don’t know?” I asked.

“No. They wouldn’t tell me anything. They even took the TV out of the hotel room they held me in.”

“132.”

Kimber gasped. That had been my reaction, too. “But…there were never that many when I was there. Maybe 60 at most.”

“I guess he wasn’t lying; the sheriff really was a business man.” I said sarcastically. “Turn here.”

“Emphasis on the ‘was’.” Kimber smiled. I couldn’t fault her for being happy he was dead. And even though he was my father I was, too.

“So they didn’t tell you anything, huh?”

“The only thing they would tell me is that you were alive and that’s only because I started throwing cutlery at them.”

I laughed. “Well, I guess I’ll give you the news then. Every major news outlet got a copy of the Borrasca records on Friday. And the files were apparently very detailed. Open investigations were triggered across the map.”

“Fucking A.” Kimber said.

“And they caught everybody that was on payroll. Including James Prescott.”

“What? They caught him already?” She asked excitedly.

“Grant said he didn’t even last a day.”

“What an asshole.” She laughed.

“And, I’ve been really wanting to tell you…that was a beautiful shot you made.”

“Oh, I’ve made that shot a thousand times. This was the first time that my target was actually in the flesh, though. And hey, congrats on taking a bullet and living through it like a fuckin’ champ.”

“Turn right. Yeah, who knew I would excel at getting shot. I wonder what sort of career I could make out of that.”

Kimber shrugged. “Bullet tester?”

She was different now. Gone was the anxious, despondent version of her that I had come to know in the past weeks. This was Kimber as I remembered her before her mother died. Happy. Unburdened. Hopeful. I couldn’t believe that I was about to strip it all away from her. But she deserved to know.

“Take another right up here.”

“Where are we going?” She asked, finally.

“You’ll see.”

Kimber’s smile wavered. “I’m not sure if I like that at all.”

“At the end of this street, we’re looking for house number 445.”

“There.” She said, and pulled into a spot at the front of a large, gothic-styled house. “This place is…off-putting. What is it?”

“It’s a group home.”

“A group home?” She laughed. “What for?”

I didn’t say anything but watched her carefully. Kimber sobered.

“I don’t… you mean…” Her hands, which were tucked back into her sleeves, suddenly covered her mouth as she realized why we were here.  Kimber began to shake her head. “But Jimmy said- I heard him say- “

“Well, contrary to Jimmy Prescott’s last words to me, I don’t believe everything says.” I took a deep breath. “The Landy’s left town with just about everybody else two days ago. According to Grant they didn’t take their oldest son with them. Just Parker.”

Kimber continued to stare at the house with her hands over her mouth. She looked like she was about to cry.

“And…” I continued. “Grant ordered Kyle’s caretaker to stop giving him his daily meds until they could get ahold of his doctor – who skipped town with the rest of Drisking.”

“So…Kyle is inside.” Kimber breathed. “And he’s been off his medication for, for…”

“For days. Which means if he has been sedated for all this time, like Jimmy said, he…might not be anymore.”

Kimber coughed into her hands but it sounded more like a suppressed sob. I put my arm around her. “Are you okay?”

She pulled her hands away from her mouth and shook them loose of her sleeves, then reached for the key and turned the car off. “I’m fine. I’m ready.”

“Good. Let’s go get our fuckin’ boy.” I said.

We rang the bell on the palatial home and a young woman answered, looking frazzled and annoyed.

“Hi, we’re here to see Kyle Landy.” I told her.

“Landy? Are you family?” She asked, brushing unkempt brown hair back from her face.

“Yes, we’re family.” Kimber said.

The woman crossed her arms and leaned against the door jamb. “Kyle’s family hasn’t visited once in all the years he’s been here. Are you on his authorized visitation list?”

“I doubt it.” I laughed wryly.

“But we’re coming in anyway.” Kimber added, mimicking the woman’s defiant posture.

She sighed and dropped her arms. “Fine. I don’t care. I’m the only one here, everybody else has left town because of the scandal.”

She moved aside and we walked into the foyer. The woman closed the door behind us and gestured up the grand staircase. “He’s in his room. Second door on the left.”

We turned to go. “Oh, and please remember that he’s non-verbal, so don’t expect him to talk to you or move or anything. If you want to bring him downstairs let me know and I’ll get the key to the elevator.”

“Fine. Thanks.” Kimber said to the air behind her as she climbed the stairs.  I followed behind more slowly, taking deep, measured breaths. Please, Kyle. Please. Please be real.

By the time I got to the top of the stairs Kimber was standing in the open doorway of Kyle’s room as if she couldn’t bear to go any further. She was crying softly into her hands and when she turned and saw me she began shaking her head. “I can’t. I just can’t, Sam.”

I walked over and gave Kimber a hug. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be fine.” I said into her hair. I took a few moments to mentally prepare before I finally turned around and glanced into the room.

Kyle was in his wheelchair, which was facing the bed, and he was staring straight ahead at the swirling oak of the wall in front of him. He didn’t react to our voices or move in the slightest; I couldn’t be sure he was even blinking. I released Kimber and walked slowly into the room. I sat down on the edge of the bed in front of Kyle to study him. His injuries had all healed, other than his nose which remained out of place and broken. He was wearing flannel pants and a non-descript white t-shirt and socks. His hair was long and a red beard covered the bottom half of his face. His eyes were fixed over my shoulder, lazily settled on the wall behind me.

“Kyle.” I said as I moved into his line of vision. “It’s Sam.”

He blinked. Kyle’s eyes seemed to try and focus on me but when I moved they didn’t follow. I could see there was no one behind them but I couldn’t accept it. Not after all we’d been through.

“Kyle, please fucking tell me you’re in there.” I begged. But there was nothing to show that he’d understood. His eyes glazed over and I knew that what remained of Kyle was only the barest of brain functions.

“Fuck!” I swore.

Kimber was now openly sobbing. “Stop.” She whispered. “Sam, stop.”

I worked to get ahold of myself. Over the last two days I had convinced myself that there was more to Kyle than I had been led to believe the last time I’d seen him. I’d needed him to be more than the soulless vegetable I’d left behind. But being confronted with the human shell in front of me made the truth hurt even more.

I stood up from the bed and walked over to the window to watch the snow fall outside: a new powder to cover this place. We had come so far, but not far enough. We’d won in almost every conceivable way on the barest of odds but it still wasn’t enough. I wanted Kyle back too. I wanted to be whole.

I heard Kimber leave the doorway and turned to watch her sit in front of Kyle. She took his limp hands into hers and held them while she softly told him that she had missed him and that she loved him. Then she laid her head on his lap and continued to whisper to Kyle through her tears. I turned back to watch the snowfall.

And then I heard a voice that hadn’t spoken since the day it had told Jimmy Prescott to go fuck himself ten years before on the now silent mountain.

“Kimber.”

THE END