Chapter Nineteen
678 Words
"They should be here by now, Daws," Karl grumbled for the ninth time in the last few hours.
He paced worriedly up and down the little room they were occupying on the fifth floor of an apartment building overlooking the pit. His shaking feet carved a path through the settled dust on the wooden floor, as if it were sand on a beautiful flat beach.
"All we can do is wait," Dawson chimed yet again, her replies like clockwork to his worries.
Karl's shuffling feet came to an immediate halt, as his heals spun on the dust and took three purposeful steps towards Dawson.
"Wait? That's all you've said for two days now! When do we stop waiting and f*****g do something?" he yelled, all his anger and worry for his brother's safety pouring out into one emotional scream.
Dawson stepped back, unfamiliar with being on the back-foot in an argument. She was used to calling the shots and being confident in the decisions she made, but in truth, she had no idea what to do.
"I don't know, Karl! I don't know, okay?"
"Good!"
"What do you mean, 'good'?" Dawson asked.
"I'm sick of you pretending that everything is okay, Daws! It's not. They've been missing for days, we have no idea if they're dead or alive, injured or clicker food!"
"We can't give up on them," Dawson urged.
"Isn't that exactly what this waiting is? Giving up. Hoping they turn up, and preparing ourselves for the inevitability when they don't?"
"What else would you have us do?"
Karl slumped against the wall and slid down it in a heap on the floor, "I don't know," he conceded.
"We'll wait a little longer," Dawson said confidently, attempting to convince herself of the possibility of their return.
"Daws..."
"What's up?"
"When do we accept that they're dead?"
Dawson thought for a second before firmly stating, "We don't. Not unless we see the bodies."
***
Dawson hadn't moved from her perch next to the window. She stood like a hawk, surveying the ground below with an unflappable sense of concentration. If someone or something moved, she would know, but so far there was nothing.
She found it strange, not seeing any sign of JJ and Max aside, she hadn't even seen any movement coming from inside or around the pit itself. It was quiet, almost looking like an abandoned ant farm from all the way up here.
Had the brotherhood left? Had someone else moved in? had they just gone underground?
"Still nothing?" Karl asked, without a hint of hope shining through his miserable tones.
"Nothing at all. That's what has me thinking."
"What do you mean?" Karl asked with increasing interest, clambering up to get a good look too.
"Well, we've been here what, two days or so?"
"Yeah, about that."
"Well in all this time, I haven't seen one guard patrolling the pit. Not one fight going on. Not a single person moving in the entire compound. From all the stories Max told us, doesn't that seem strange to you?"
Karl pondered over this, "You think they've moved on?"
"I don't know, but it definitely isn't business as usual."
"Do you think Han is still down there somewhere?"
"I don't know, but this could be our best chance to find out," Dawson said, hoping that Karl wouldn't misconstrue it as the decision to give up on JJ and Max.
"We can't help JJ or Max right now, but that doesn't mean we can't help anyone else."
"You think we should go have a look?" Dawson asked.
"Rodney is staying up here anyway with the kid, as long as he can keep a look out for my brother, I think we should, yes."
Dawson glanced across at Rodney who was sprawled out in a huge comfy armchair, with little George snoozing on his shoulder. Rodney nodded, careful not to wake up the sleeping child. "If they turn up, I'll get to them, I promise," he whispered.
"Thank you," Karl replied sincerely.
"Okay then, it's settled, get your stuff together, we leave in five," Dawson ordered.
Karl nodded, collecting up his knives and packing some essentials into his nearby backpack.
"Don't forget your stick," Rodney whispered.
Karl moaned and grumbled as he fetched the cue, "It's a f*****g spear!"
- Writer
