Bright Eyes

A gunshot broke the night, but the town did not wake up. Gunshots were not uncommon, and anyone who wanted to be out at night already was. 

A small man and a large woman crouched in a bush watching a graveyard caged behind an iron fence and a locked gate. A light was visible, faintly, through the trees on the far side, but it was still and had been for some time. 

“I don’t think anyone is watching.” She said. He did not reply. 

She stood up slowly, and darted her eyes back and forth. Seeing nothing, and hearing nothing, she hurried across the open ground to the edge of the fence. She turned back and waited, but he never came. She waved to him. 

He stood up heavily and walked slowly across the road, keeping his face down and one hand to his chest. When he arrived at the gate, she took his free hand. Balancing against her, her stepped through the gap between two bars of the fence. He waited there while she pulled herself up the fence, carefully braced one leg against the bar, and held her weight over the pointed top of the fence while she passed over it. Then, she jumped. 

She fell heavily, and he collapsed too. She pulled herself up with the fence and rushed to his side. “Are you alright?” she whispered. 

The sound of an engine in the distance made both of them start, and the light at the far end of the graveyard began to move slowly. 

“Come on.” she said, and she helped him stand so they could rush to cover in an empty grave. It’s headstone stood between them and the gate. It was unmarked. 

The two of them crawled down into the grave. He reached down and clawed feebly at an exposed root for support as she strained. She held him with one arm, and kept them from falling in pell-mell with the other. As she reached farther into the pit, she contorted her shoulder to hold her arm as far and crooked across his chest as she could to distribute his weight, and leaned him in against her chest as much as possible. 

“We’ll be safe here.” she lied. “Just for now. Just as long as we stay quiet.” 

“I want to die.” he breathed. She did not hear him. 

She laid him down in the bottom of the grave, and he relaxed. His expression was still taught, and his breathing was shallow, but his limbs could finally be limp. As his weight settled into the uneven dirt, he began to roll onto his side, but with a stifled whimper, he lay down again, flat on his back. She lowered herself to the bottom with relief. Without room to lay by him, she supported her weight on all four limbs. It was still an effort, but compared to the climb it was a relief. She smiled, weakly, and wiped the blood from his belly. 

“Thank you.” he said.

“You can’t go in there.” said a distant voice from above. 

She held one finger up to her lips to signal silence. 

“We’re not trying to break the law officer.” said a new distant voice. His eyes got wide with panic, and she stroked his hair and forced a smile for him, then held herself in place as still as possible.

“You kids stay tonight.” said the first voice. Then, the sound of a gate opening, and laughter. 

She held her smile, but began to shiver with fear. 

“Thank you officer, you too.” said the second voice. They could hear their pursuers walking, spreading out into the graveyard.

The sound of a gun being readied to fire carried to them in the grave. He screwed up his eyes, and she let her smile drop, holding her entire body as still as possible. 

“What’s that?” came a sharp voice. 

“I was just going to shoot some of these bodies. Doesn’t hurt anything, and they might be hiding under one.” said another voice. 

“Waste of bullets.” said the sharp voice. “Besides, we don’t want to make it harder for the officer on watch than we have to. He did us a favor.”

The guns made no more sounds, but the footsteps of the men came, indirectly, closer to their hiding place. 

The sound of feet passed them, and they both made themselves as still as possible. Though tired, she held herself as close over him as she could to look like she was resting, dead, on top of him. The feet receded, and they both breathed a little deeper. Distant voices, that would otherwise have been terrible, confirmed the distance between them and the men chasing them. 

The footsteps came near again, and they both shook. They were too exhausted to hide anymore. She tried to hold herself low again but the strain hurt her and she slipped, brushing him slightly. His face showed all the blunt agony of his untreated wound, and he let out a faint sigh. Both of them shook with terror at the sound. The footsteps receded again, and then with the sound of the gate there was silence. 

After some time, she stood up in the grave and looked around the graveyard. Seeing nothing, she waited and watched. Unsatisfied, but unanswered, she stopped to help him out of the grave. She held him with both arms, but he was too weak to hold his body straight, and the movement put a strain on his bloody belly. When she set him down, he sighed in pain again, more loudly, as the terror was not so imminent. At the sound, she looked around. 

There was nothing. She stopped again to help him stand, but as they rose the gate made a sound. Both of them looked up, wide eyed.

All that met them were bright eyes in the darkness and the crack of a whip, it’s length shining as it rolled through the only shaft of moonlight.