Losing Light in the Morning

“He’ll be there.”

Even in the pitch black, Dustin looked so sure his sister almost believed him. It was more difficult to stay hidden in the forest than one would expect. Fallen leaves in the winter crunched, and cold wisps made it difficult to contain whimpers as they brushed against reddened cheeks. The moon only permitted barely enough light to see your left foot march in front of the right, and it would always seem as though shadows lurked in every nook and cranny of your peripheral.

He never much liked the dark, or forests; but their best bet of making it home were both.

“What if he isn’t?” Talia hissed, glancing sporadically around the shrubbery which surrounded them. What if he isn’t? Dustin couldn’t afford to consider it.

“He will be Lia. Just you watch. He’ll come for you, has to even.”

“He doesn’t care that much!”

“Fishing. He does enough for you.”

He watched as she huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. She was small for her age, most girls of 12 towered above her and she’d yap about it any chance she got. She had one of those bright spirits, fueled more by curiosity than any actual glee but bright enough for Dustin to worry she may be too small to carry it all. Now though, tucked away between a large stump and its fallen trunk, he’d say she was lucky for it.

He checked his watch gingerly, hoping it was the right time. Every now and then the mechanisms in the back were slowed from the rust, and suddenly he’d find himself running half an hour late. 11:37pm. Still a little less than half an hour to go. If they could lay hidden for just a little longer, they’d see the headlights of their rescue vehicle barrel down Crowman’s Highway. They’d found their hiding spot about 100 meters from the road, on a slightly more elevated hill face. The area looked to be a development site of some kind, so rows of trees lay cut for hectares on end.

A little deeper into the woodlands lay the battered remains of their ransacked camping ground.

“What did the text say again?”

Dustin fished out his mobile from his coat pocket. It was probably unwise to waste his remaining 6%, but he knew from the tone of her voice Talia was beginning to grow restless. She’s always been like that he scoffed, since she was 5 phones would shut her up.

“Meet at 12. Crowman’s. I’m coming. Well, he sounds more than worried doesn’t he Dustin?”

“Surprised he could spell all the words, really. At least he’s coming.”

“And am I supposed to thank my father for coming to rescue me after I’ve been thugged?”

He shoots her a look, but ultimately falls into a defeated crouch beside her. Admittedly, the text could have shown a little more concern, but Marvin Orwin had never been the most caring, let alone affectionate parent to either of them.

If Dustin weren’t as humble a boy, he’d have every right to say he’d been more of a parent to Talia than Marvin had ever tried to be. He was four years older than his sister, but he taught her to read, to write, to play her first three chords on the guitar. Marvin was a recovered alcoholic, on paper at least. Ten years making love to bourbon left him a shadow of the man he used to be, and an illegitimate son he found all too easy to take his frustrations out on. Some nights Dustin would stare at his reflection and trace over the map of bruising his father’s fists had left. He’d long since given up on understanding what he’d done to deserve the marks.

“We shouldn’t have gone camping, Lia. He’ll be so pissed we didn’t listen.”

“Mum said we could.”

“You’re not the one he’ll hit.”

“Hit him back then!” she glares. She could never quite understand why her brother was so submissive when he could certainly take the man in his poor drunken state, or why Marvin seemed to hate him more than her mother did. He was his child, albeit the product of a drunken affair, but the same blood nonetheless. She always heard the bitter words her father would spit at her brother, and within the confines of her bedroom would chant prayers he’d drank enough that night to pass out quickly. More often than not though, he’d land a good couple of hits in before he did. Once he’d collapse into a drunken heap, she’d watch in disbelief as Dustin dragged him across the living room and dumped him on the couch. Every night since he was strong enough to handle Marvin’s weight like the dutiful son he was. Her brother was too good of a person and she tried her best not to resent him for it.

Once or twice, she’d found herself wedged between the two, earning herself a purple, swollen eye each time. She’d discovered that once his palm made contact with her cheek, a light bulb would go off in his mind and he’d recoil like he’d been burned. He never apologized, but he’d grit his teeth and quickly stumble his way to the bedroom to retire for the evening. Each time her brother had raced to the kitchen and back with an ice pack, and fussed over how reckless and stupid she was being. If it were up to her, she’d use herself as a human shield every night, but Dustin had a new trick of shoving her into her bedroom and barring the door from the outside.

Crunch!

Both heads whipped towards the sound where they saw the unmistakable blots of flashlights.

“Shit! Dux they’ve found us!” Talia lunges into a full sprint down the hill dragging her brother by the wrist. Heart in his throat, he allows gravity to pull his momentum down after her, praying his feet don’t choose now to stumble. Faintly, he hears the thugs shout disoriented orders from behind them.

There! Down there!

Dustin scans their surroundings desperately as they run alongside the road, looking for any promising hiding spaces, but the dark envelopes everything beyond a couple meters heavily. They could follow the highway and hope for an oncoming vehicle to pass, but he doubted Talia could outrun grown men for so long. If they made for a beeline deeper into the woods it would be easier to hide, but he was sure they weren’t called the wolf district for no reason and couldn’t risk landing them any more lost than they already were.

Making a split-second decision, he shoved his sister to the ground and roughly dragged her over to another cut down stump. He threw his phone and half-emptied bottle of water to her side and pressed his index finger to his lips as steadily as he could.

“What are you doing?” Talia’s voice shook.

“Stay low, go home with Marvin.”

Without delay, Dustin whipped and broke off into a sprint towards the tree line making as much noise as he could along the way.

Fuck’s sake! Move to the trees! They’re going to the trees!

Even in his panicked state, a relieved wheeze left disgruntled from his throat as he pushed his legs to carry on.

-

It’s 7:30 the next morning by the time Marvin’s truck pulls over.

“Get in.”

“Where were you? Those guys chased Dux into the trees, we have to find him! If anything happened to him it’s your fault! You said you’d be here!”

Marvin snarls as he grips Talia’s arm and all but heaves her thrashing form into the truck. If any car were to drive by, this would look much like an abduction.

“What are you doing? I said we need to find him!”

“Shut up! If he listened he’d be fine girl! S’what happens when you’re a stubborn little shit like the boy, S’what happens when you step outta line like he does!”

“They’re going to hurt him!” the veins in her neck bulged and her eyes twitched. Surely he wouldn’t leave his son out to die? He could hate him, but surely not so much he’d just abandon him in the woods?

She watched with her face pressed up to the window as he stood a few paces from the truck, hands on either hip. He seemed to be scanning the tree line, slumped hungover from the night before. In the sunlight, she sees what his ale has done to him more than she ever has. Dark bags contoured beneath his eyes, and greasy curls pointed disheveled in every direction. She thinks, this may be the furthest he’s gone from their house in a decade, and he looks rightfully out of his element with no notion of what to do – no bottle in his hand.

Finally, he acquiesced to his thoughts and dragged his feet behind him as he trudged towards the trees. If he were any other human being, Talia may be relieved someone was searching for her brother; but watching him grunt into every step forward only made her hope further dwindle.

She rolled down her window in quick, frustrated bursts.

“Stop half-assing you old man, look for him!”

If he hears her, he doesn’t show it. She watches as he continues in the same pace with no semblance of conviction.

It’s a sunny day out, a great contrast to the night before. Still. Nothing about it seems very bright.

End.