Echo(2)

I take a moment and close my eyes when I feel the pulsing of a headache beginning to form. Loosening my tie, I open my eyes and they land on the manila envelope. With curiosity, I open it up to find a flash drive along with a note that reads:

Bennett,

I don’t want to say too much, but after overhearing a very strange phone call Richard was having the other night, I’ve been worried. I wanted to call you since I knew it had something to do with the company, but after finding this flash drive, I got scared. I don’t exactly understand what’s going on, but I fear it could be really bad. Please look at this ASAP.

Jacqueline

Opening the lid to my laptop, I plug in the flash drive and click on the only file that pops up. It appears to be the company’s financial spreadsheet, but the numbers are way off the normal spectrum. I scroll through the information, and when I hit the bottom, I see the account name and panic ignites.

“Oh my God.”

My eyes widen as I lean in closer to the screen because I can’t believe what I’m seeing. My stomach lurches when I notice faint noises on the other side of the door. Before I even have a second to think, the door flies opens, smashing into the wall.

The man’s face is a blur behind the stainless steel barrel of a pistol that’s aimed right at me. Chills spark throughout my body, causing my lungs to collapse as I desperately try to speak, but he speaks first.

“You won’t ever f*cking touch her again,” he snarls as he moves towards me with his arm straight out in front of him, marking his target.

I quickly stand on weak legs, holding my hands up in surrender, and plead through my crashing panic, “Declan, don’t do th—”

(bang)





(bang)





CRIMSON SOAKS THROUGH the white cotton, spreading its death through the fibers of his shirt as he stands there, wide-eyed. My body goes numb as I watch him slowly stumble backwards. The weight of the pistol becomes too much for my delicate fingers to hold, and the gun slips out of my hand, falling to the floor with a thump at the same time Pike does.

I’m frozen as I stand here, looking down at my brother. His body begins to spasm, his eyes never blinking, and the gurgling sounds in his throat turn violent as he starts choking on his own blood.

I don’t move to help him; instead, as if I’m watching a horror movie, I become a voyeur.

This isn’t real. This is a dream; it isn’t real.

The terror in his eyes is chilling as they glaze over, dilate, and stare into negative space.

His body stills, paralyzed to the ground, and then silence takes over. It’s in this moment that I begin to feel the warmth of blood flowing through my veins, and I move. Inching slowly towards Pike, my trembling body kneels next to him, but I’m too scared to touch him.

Is this real?

Simply observing, I note a tinge of blue blooming on his lips. I sit. The world unmoving. My mind drifts to a faraway place where nothing exists. It’s pure and empty and free from emotion. I settle in this solitary space, breathing in white noise, when suddenly the body next to me convulses. A retching of coagulated blood splutters out of Pike’s mouth as his stomach contracts in alarming pulses, and then instantly stops. My heart pounds in an unsteady rhythm as I watch Pike’s body soften into the floor beneath him. And when there is no more life, I wake up, snapping out of my trance as reality barrels into me.

Holy shit!

Grabbing his arm, I panic, jerking him. “Pike?” Shaking his arm, I murmur in fear, “Pike, wake up. Pike, come on.” I move to hover over his lifeless body, gripping his shoulders and shaking him profusely, begging louder, “Wake up. Wake up! This isn’t funny.” Tears burn my eyes, and I choke on my own words. “Wake up, Pike! I’m so sorry. Oh my God, I’m so sorry. Please, wake up!”

His eyes are still wide open, but there’s no movement. They’re frozen, locked in place, and utterly black.

What have I done?

Pain stabs my lungs as I throw my head up to the heavens and release the most God-awful severing cry, but there’s no sound that comes out of me. The agony is too much, so I wail in a torturous breathlessness. My heart, splintering, ripping apart, takes on a new meaning of misery, creating an emotion that never existed before this very moment, but it’s too much. I can’t bear it, but I feel its birth inside of me.

Looking back down, I no longer see the man I hated only moments ago. Instead, I see the boy who desperately loved me his whole life, and I crumple over, shifting his arm so that I’m able to nestle in the crook against his chest. He’s still warm, and like I’ve done my whole life, I selfishly take comfort from him. I’m nothing but rot, using Pike, even in his death, in an attempt to soothe myself. I wrap myself around him and cry, breathing him into my soul. His shirt is a soggy combination of blood and sweat, yet I can still smell the ever-familiar fumes of his clove cigarettes as I close my eyes.