Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Alysa: Thanks. Your review definitely made me warm and fuzzy inside.

Choices

Russell Farm

“Hi.”

The woman smiled. Her eyes were soft and warm and he liked it. Her hair curled around her, cascading down her back. She reached out a hand and it was warm when it touched him.

“Hello J.”

“You look like her.”

She continued to smile and he felt safe and warm and without pain. He watched intently as she took a step closer. The air around her wavered and then settled again. It was almost like he was watching the heat waves distort the air on a hot summer’s day.

“Are you real?”

“For now. Turn around.”

He obeyed, not questioning. The living room was still there, just slightly distorted. He could see his body lying between his brother and mother. His eyes were closed, his skin sallow. Blood coated his side where Lyle had knifed him. He broke his gaze, looking at his own side and finding his skin unblemished. He looked back to the scene, watching as his mother filled his lungs with air. He saw his chest rise with the forced breath and then his brother placed his hands over his sternum, pushing down, counting. Five reps and then his mother’s turn again.

He looked towards Lyle and all he saw was a darkness that surrounded the man. His captor was watching the scene with interest, his gaze almost predatory. When she said his name, he turned and looked at her and felt at peace again.

“Is this a dream?”

“If you want.”

He glanced at the scene again. His brother was saying something to his body but he couldn’t make out the words. Somehow it didn’t matter so much.

“I wanted to tell him that I’m sorry for all my hatred.” He turned away, looking at her fully. “That I’ve forgiven him for what had happened to me at Donoterase.”

“He’ll understand.”

He took a step away from the scene and stopped. He turned back again. “How long do I have?”

“Not long.”

She held out her hand, inviting. He took it, felt it fold around his. His brother wiped at his eyes before continuing with the compressions. Lyle stepped towards the scene. The darkness followed him, curling around his body like a blanket. J didn’t want to leave.

“They need me.”

“Do you want to go back to the pain and hurt?”

He was silent as his thoughts turned inwards. He could see the road stretch out before him, his choice. One led to peace where he didn’t need to fight anymore, where he wouldn’t hurt anymore. The other was dark and uncertain. Did he want to continue?

“They need me.”

“Are you sure? I cannot protect you from Lyle if you go back.”

He smiled briefly and said, “I understand. This is my choice.”

She nodded and bent down, kissing him softly on his forehead. It felt soothing and he wasn’t afraid. “Go in peace, J.”

He watched her disappear. He gave her a last wave and then felt something tug at his consciousness. Gray surrounded him and then he felt the floor against this back. His body exhaled air when his brother pushed against his chest, the compressions almost at the end of the cycle.

Then he took his first breath in what felt like a lifetime. He sucked in the air in a great wheezing whistle, arching his back as the pain returned full force. Calm hands pushed him down and he started to cough. Each wracking spasm contracted and expanded his muscles and with it his knife wound. He had never known pain like that and for a brief moment he wondered if he had made the wrong choice.

“Come on J, deep breaths.”

His brother’s voice brought him back as he tried to follow the softly whispered words. The coughing finally ended and he didn’t move, absorbing the waves of intense throbbing that emanated from his side. A hand was softly stroking his. It had a calming effect and he felt himself slowly relax. He heard a voice singing softly a lullaby and he smiled inwardly. He wasn’t a kid anymore and yet the song was blanketing the pain until the intense ache subsided to bearable.

He finally managed to open his eyes.

“Welcome back.”

He looked at the grief ravaged face of his brother. He could trace each path the tears had tracked on Jarod’s face. His brother’s eyes were still moist and they were dark with emotion. He tried to say he was sorry but his voice wasn’t working. He shifted his head slightly, seeing Lyle looming over his mother.

“J, do you want some water?”

He wanted to say please but in the end just nodded, his mouth so dry he wondered if he would ever be able to parch his thirst. His mom left and returned a moment later. Jarod helped him lift his head and he took a small sip, feeling the coolness fill his mouth.

This time he managed to thank them. He wanted to sleep but he fought against the heaviness that pulled his lids down.

“Lyle, he needs a hospital. He needs professional care. Please.”

His brother’s voice was full of desperation and fear. He could almost hear the glee in Lyle’s voice when their captor denied Jarod.

“I trust you.”

He didn’t know why he said it but Jarod jerked, staring down at him. He didn’t flinch, didn’t turn away while he tried to convey his love for his brother in that one moment.

“I don’t know if I can do this, J. I…,” his brother swallowed and then as if remembering his mom continued, “…we might lose you.”

He smiled even though it was painful. “It’s ok. I trust you.”

Ever so slightly Jarod returned his smile and the faith he was putting in him. “This will hurt.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

There was nothing more to say. They both understood what needed to be done.

“He’s stable for now,” Jarod said, leaning back and wiping his eyes tiredly.

Lyle glanced at his watch. “Good. Then he can be moved.”

Jarod rose swiftly, angrily. He ignored the gun Lyle suddenly extracted from somewhere and had pointed at him.

“I just spent the better part of an hour to get him to this point. To move J now could mean his death.”

“He trusts you,” Lyle replied mockingly, “I’m sure you’ll find a way to get him into the van.”

Jarod lunged at Lyle, his anger overcoming his common sense. He was prepared to choke Lyle’s life from his body, even if he had to do it with a bullet in him. Lyle easily sidestepped him and then pistol whipped him. He dropped to his knees and then his hands, bracing himself. He heard a small cry from his mother and he tried to rise. He dropped back to his knees, his head swimming.

“Just leave my family alone, Lyle. This is between us.”

“Oh no, Jarod. It doesn’t work that way. Your family stays with me.”

He stood more slowly and this time he managed to keep his equilibrium. Lyle had a painful grip on his mom’s wrist, his gun aimed at her temple.

“Do you want to try that again?”

He looked at his mom’s frightened gaze and managed to choke out, “No.”

“Good,” Lyle lowered the gun and then flung Margaret at Jarod. “You have a choice, Jarod.” Lyle said suavely. He pointed his gun at J’s outstretched body and continued, “Take Gemini to the van or…” he didn’t finish the statement, instead leaving it open, knowing that Jarod will fill in the blanks.

Lyle moved backwards as Jarod stooped besides J. He squeezed J’s shoulder while he slid his fingers along his brother’s wrist and felt for a pulse. It was steady but weak. “J, wake up,” Jarod encouraged with a soft whisper. J’s eyes remained tightly closed and Jarod touched his face. J’s head rolled to the side but otherwise didn’t respond. Jarod didn’t need to look at Lyle to know that their captor was getting impatient.

“J, I need to move you.”

“I don’t think I can walk,” J mumbled weakly.

“It’s ok. You can lean on me,” Jarod offered, helping his brother to sit. J couldn’t suppress the cry when he rose. He hunched, grabbing for his side. His brother’s arm snaked around his back, holding him tight against his own body.

“I don’t think I can do this. It hurts.”

“We’ll take it one step at a time.” Jarod grunted, his broken rib protesting as he took more of J’s weight. His brother was telling the truth. He was barely responsive. They stumbled towards the door and out. J’s breathing was harsh and too fast when they finally reached a nondescript delivery van. Lyle opened the back doors and Jarod help his brother inside, settling him on the floor. J was barely lucid. Jarod knelt by his side and touched his cheek. It was abnormally warm.

His mother climbed in, sitting on the other side of J. The doors closed and they were left in darkness, the only sound J’s laboured breathing.

“What do we do now?” Margaret asked when the van started moving.

“Mom, if you have a chance to escape, I want you to take it.”

“I’m not leaving you,” she argued firmly. “J needs both of us.”

“I can look after him. If you escape, it’s one less person I need to worry about,” Jarod said firmly, wanting her to see the logic. “I need you to make sure that Sydney is safe where Lyle can’t get to him.”

She didn’t reply, knowing that Jarod is right but she also knew that even if she did manage to escape, that Lyle will make Jarod pay for it. Her heart was being torn in two, the decision a hard one she had to make now. When an opportunity came, she wouldn’t have the luxury of hesitation that would come if she hasn’t made her mind up all ready.

“You would have a better chance of evading Lyle. You’ll be able to out-think him.”

“It wouldn’t work, Mom. J needs medical attention and I can give that to him. You have to do it,” Jarod said while he extended his hand, touching the panel. He traced the outline, finding the seam of the door. He sighed in frustration when he found no door handle. It had been too much to hope for anyway. Making sure he had contact with J, he leaned against the panel and closed his eyes, trying to think.

“When we stop, I’ll try and distract Lyle. I want you to run. Even if I manage to overpower him, I still want you to run. Don’t stop and don’t look back.”

“Jarod, don’t do this. He’s unstable. You have no idea what he’ll do if you don’t…”

“He’s going to torture you and then kill you in front of me. I’d rather not witness that.” He was surprised that his voice was steady when he said that. His emotions were flat, his inner turmoil kept carefully balanced.

“You don’t know that?”

Jarod was glad for the darkness. It kept everything hidden. The hopelessness he felt. The defeat that he couldn’t hide. The knowledge that Lyle was in control. That with J’s injury he was hobbled in his decisions and choices. He could no more leave his brother alone with Lyle then kill his brother. The outcome would be the same.

“He told me in great detail what he’s going to do to you and dad and…,” he had to swallow, keep his hold on his emotions tighter, “…miss Parker. Someone needs to let them know.”

“Don’t ask this of me, please. I can’t lose you and J again.”

“There’s no other way and you know it, Mom. Think about it. If Lyle can’t find you, he can’t use you against me. He’ll leave. You’ll be safe.”

“But you won’t be.”

“I’ve survived the Centre for thirty years. I’ll find a way for me and J to survive Lyle. We’ll escape, when J’s stronger or when there’s an opportunity for me to take on Lyle and win. Please don’t let me beg.”

The silence that followed after Jarod’s last words were heavy and it settled slowly between them. He waited, feeling the slight shudder when they left the tar road.

“Ok”

That was the last word spoken and nothing more was said between them for the rest of the drive.

“They’re gone. We’re too late.”

She didn’t answer. They had entered the house cautiously, guns extended. Now they stood in the centre of the living room, trying not to look at the blood. There was too much blood to be healthy. They didn’t want to speculate on whose it was.

“Why is Lyle doing this?”

She didn’t answer the question. It was rhetoric. Lyle wanted payback, beyond that it didn’t have to make sense. She walked out the house, staring at the distant mountains. They were both tired, stretched to their limits. They had slept no more than an hour in the past twenty four hours. Her eyes were grainy, red and she knew without a doubt that if they didn’t rest, mistakes will be made.

“Where do you think he’s taken them?”

She rubbed the back of her neck tiredly, closing her eyes briefly. “I don’t think Lyle will go too far. This is a game and he wants us to play.”

“So do we wait till he contacts you again? We have no idea where he’ll take them.”

“I don’t know. Someone’s hurt.”

She didn’t say more, didn’t want to think that it could be Jarod’s blood drying inside. Major Charles turned and walked away and she didn’t follow, knowing he needed the time to be alone and think. Her phone rang and she looked at the caller id first before answering it.

“The Centre knows where we are.”

“Are you hundred percent certain, Broots?”

Dumb question. She didn’t reiterate, instead waited for his stumbling answer. “Y…yes. They’re sending three teams. ETA is four hours.”

What was her brother playing at? Why would he let the Centre know where they were? He was putting his own life in jeopardy and she had never known him to take risks like that without some reward.

“Broots, I want you to double check. See if you still have some friends left down in communications.”

“Ok, but it might take time. What are we going to do with Sydney if it’s true?”

“We’ll worry about it when the time comes.”

The moment he heard the key in the lock, Jarod prepared himself. The light had barely become a slid when he jack knifed his legs against the door. He heard a crunch and then a thud. He stopped the swinging door with his hand, blinking against the light. Lyle was already moving from his position on the ground, a gun in one hand. He didn’t wait but lunged himself forwards.

“Mom, now!”

He didn’t have time to even glance backwards to see if his mother was running. All his attention was on the writhing body beneath him and trying to keep Lyle’s gun hand busy. Lyle anticipated his move and shifted, jabbing upwards with his other hand. He managed to keep the scream bottled against the agony that now flared in his ribs.

Wasting no time in dealing with the pain, he kept hold of Lyle’s wrist. He was weak from the past few days. Jarod was fighting using solely instinct now. There was more at stake then just his life. Another punch to his ribs left him gasping for air and seeing stars.

“Give up, Jarod. You won’t win,” Lyle grunted. Jarod didn’t answer. His fingers were slipping on Lyle’s wrist, his strength almost gone. Taking a risk, he let one hand go.

Lyle grinned, tearing his gun hand free from Jarod’s remaining grip. He was bringing the weapon around, to push it into Jarod’s side when a fist came out of no-where and send him straight towards darkness.

Jarod breathed hard, slumping down over Lyle’s motionless form. Sweat was dripping down his face and the raw pain from his side nearly crippled him. Aware of time, aware of where he was, he pushed against Lyle and took the gun. He pointed it at Lyle’s head, his finger tightening on the trigger.

“Jarod?”

J’s voice was soft and weak. He turned his head, watching his brother slowly pushing himself into a sitting position.

“Will it be worth it…in the end?”

Jarod said nothing, the handle of the gun feeling rough against his skin. One bullet will end this nightmare for them. He had the power to end it.

“Jar?”

His brother had only used his name in that way once or twice. It brought pause to what he was preparing to do. He remembers Damon and how it had felt afterwards. There was better ways of dealing with Lyle.

“Why don’t we get out of here, J? Let the police handle Lyle.”

Making sure the safety was on; he slipped it in his waist belt. He ruffled Lyle’s clothes, finally finding the keys to the van.

He had to lean against the side of the van to keep himself from falling. He made it to the front and got in behind the wheel, inserting the key. Out of habit his eyes drifted to the gas meter and when he finally registered the reading he slumped over the wheel. Lyle must have been driving on air for the last few miles. There was no way that he would make it past the first mile before coming to a dead halt.

Lyle was still unconscious when he made it to the back of the van again. Turning the man on his stomach, he used his jacket to tie his hands. It wouldn’t hold for long but it would buy time. A slight bulge in Lyle’s top pocket caught his eyes. It was a cell phone and he flipped it open to be greeted by a mechanical voice stating that the signal was out of reach.

He’s head dropped. How could his luck be that bad? Gathering his remaining strength, he stood and went over to the back of the van.

“We need to walk.”

Margaret had no idea where she was. They were somewhere on the outskirts of a deserted town. The warehouse she had left had been a standalone. Huge open areas covered all sides and she had run for the nearest cover. She had stumbled on a service road and decided to take it, going towards where she could see broken down buildings. Her only hope was that she’d find a pay phone that would still be working.

She hated leaving Jarod and J. She wanted to turn back, make sure that they were ok but she didn’t. She was their hope. She needed to find help.

Her stubbornness set in and she continued her awkward jog.

It took Lyle the better part of an hour before he managed to loosen his hands. He ignored his throbbing head and nose. The door had impacted on his nose, breaking it again. He could feel the bone grate slightly when he touched it and his eyes darkened.

Jarod and his brother couldn’t have gotten that far. Gemini was seriously injured, in need of medical care. He doubted that the boy could walk without aide. Jarod was not that far off medical attention either.

He stood, stared at the ground and then smiled. It wasn’t going to be that hard to find them for as far as he could follow with his eyes, small splatters of blood made a straight line for the door. Gemini was bleeding and both pretenders were either too injured to notice or had failed to stem the boy’s bleeding.

He opened the cubby hole of the van and his fingers curled around the handle of his knife.

The hunt was on.