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DANCROW CART

As if it were happening in another world, a dream in my subconsciousness, I felt the arm pull away from me, and I realized I had been squeezing it so hard my knuckles were white. As my mind slowly got over the shock, I noticed that the bullet had come to a rolling stop. Gavril stood up next to me, and I carefully got to my feet.

Liorah took off her other boot and flung it at the wall with all the force that desperate anger provided, and, to tell the truth, I very much wanted to do so myself. But dignity kept my boots on my feet, even though they were quaking.

“That was actually a pretty good idea,” she said to me, and in the back of my mind I was grateful that she didn’t mention my jerking her down, of all the trivial things to worry about in the moment. “I was about to try with my sling. I’m not going to be bossed around by a big block of bricks!”

Good for you gal; keep up the spirit, I thought sadly. But she’ll probably die. I was starting to feel really sick. I leaned against the wall and put my head back, closing my eyes. So I’m going to die. This is it, then.

I hear the clunk of metal, and look up to see the walking arsenal fiddling with the door. I didn’t even think about trying to defy this evil being that’s controlling us, but I don’t think it would end well — not that any of this will end well, that is. Suddenly, however, the metal man stamps his huge foot and sends a crack riveting across the floor with a sound like snapping trees. I jump in surprise, and he rams his shoulder into the door.

This has all just gotta be a dream, I fancied desperately as I watched the crack slowly spindle out into tinier cracks. It just has to be. I’ll just wake up and be home, safe in bed. All safe. Not trapped in here with these strangers.

But no.

Somehow, I know this is for real. Some sixth sense lets me know. I glance down at my hands and realize they’re clenching my gun as if it’s my only hope.

And maybe it is.

Maybe I could just end it all now. I squeeze the revolver tighter and stare at the shimmering reflections on its surface. The cool metal grows warm and slippery with my sweat. I could end it now. 

But would that leave one extra person? Would that mean that one less of us got to live, because I didn’t decide to die the way this thing planned? Maybe I could offer them the service of my gun. Maybe we could all just end it together and not have to —

“I’ll do it.” It was Gavril. I turned to look at him, and because the hair gel was starting to lose its stickiness, a lock of chocolate hair fell in front of my chocolate eyes. Usually, I would have slicked it back, but now I just let it hang, staring at it. He’s staying.

“I’ll do it too,” Gwen said in a sturdy voice. Her eyes were both hard and soft.

“I’ll go, it’ll take more than a drop to kill me.” Arsenal said with sureness.

“I fear no death,” the blind girl laughed with a sound like bubbling water.

And then Liorah cried “and he’s dead! You promised!” Gavril pulled her to him and hugged her, and I felt a tear forming in the corner of my eye. What? I’m sixteen years old. I can’t cry. Not even now. I whip it away and feel embarrassed regret building in my chest. They are willing to die, and I’m not? This brother willing to give his life for his sister, Gwen and that man for strangers, and the blind girl? Of all of us, she should be the one to stay alive.

Who am I kidding? This is not the me I know. I gave an oath to give my life for my buddies if it came to that. And in the Book, I read that there is no one greater than the one who gives his life for his brother.

I remember Royal. I remember how we saluted at the door that day as he walked away. I remember how with his eyes he forgave me. Forgave me for fuming at him when he needed me most. And I’ll never get a chance to say with words how sorry I am, to the one person I could let my heart out to. But, if I go now, I will.

I can feel the other’s strength filling this dark, deadly room. And I know what I have to do. But there is one thing.

Am I really sure that I’m going to go to Heaven?

All the bad things I’ve ever done roll through my mind. All the times I got mad at someone for doing something I would have done, all the times I thought only of myself.

Father, I’m a terrible man. I’m selfish and I’m not worthy of your grace. But you gave grace to those who didn’t deserve it, and I’m one with them. So I ask that you’d take me up to you today. I want to be with you. 

That’s all I can formulate in my whirling head, but I know He’s heard me, because I feel a great peace rise in my heart. I can die ready. I know what I’m doing now, and I slip my gun back into my holster.

I hear the curly headed girl rapidly giving instructions, but I don’t think we’re getting out of here. But maybe we will. Anyhow, I’ve made my decision.

“I’m staying.” I said firmly. And then I repeated it more quietly to myself, just for assurance. “I’m staying.”