How I Live Now

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Day 58

 

Detective Wheeler told me it would be good to write down my thoughts after the forensic investigators found my journal on the train. Personally, he has broken the law, given me my journal, a piece of evidence. Wheeler wanted to know what actually happened on the night. So, I'm going to try to recount it all. My mind has been a bit hazy, so this will be more difficult than I first realized. Looking back, it says Matias was acting funny, and now that I think of it, he was giving me all those shy, bashful looks. I remember the train didn't fill up like it should have, and we eventually snuck down into another coach with the cabins and occupied a room. The first thing we did, Matias did, was lock the door and draw the curtains. I knew something was up. The light in the room was dim, the carriage rocked back and forth, and I can recall the two of us were grinning. Like I still have that stupid grin embedded in my face after all this time. But the beeping from the ECG machine is starting to drive me into a downward spiral of madness.

 

It was incredible, and I was proud. It almost felt like an accomplishment that the two of us were the only ones to know we were occupying this cabin. I thought it was pretty mischievous not paying for the room and being so close, eyes lingering. I'm pretty sure my heart was going to pump out of my chest if I wasn't careful, and now, we were really close. We edged, nearer and nearer, our lips inches from one another. It was a spell, each under the influence of the other. Completely powerless to resist that urge, coming on faster than an asteroid plummeting to earth. The delicate sheen, the sweat on his face, his nervousness coupled with my nervousness, so we closed the distance, and we kissed. It was like everything washed away, and none of what was happening on that dreadful night remained.

 

There was laughing, yearning, but I fondly recall the longing. We were hot for each other, and our lips were meshed together, tongues wrapped, each fighting for dominance. The visceral acuity to it all, the slurping moaning, was all serene. I was backed against the door to the hallway; Matias kissed me, kissed me hard, and I just recall begging for it. I don't know what came over me, but suddenly, I just wanted to be held, protected and loved.

 

Matias's kiss left my lips, and the make-out session moved to my cheek, then my neck, down the side of my throat, and he started to gently suckle there. Our make-out session could've gone for a world record, but I didn’t even know what the world record was for kissing. I just recall how hot we were, how happy and how quick everything had come about. Suddenly everything turned erotic, and my hands were in his hair, playfully toying with it, and he gave me a hickey. My body was filled with this resistible passion, and I just wanted to make him feel good too. Pushing Matias toward the seats, we stopped our necking and made our way to one of the chairs. There was lip biting, then giggles turned to lust as we lay down beside each other.

 

The seats were oddly wide enough for the both of us pressed close together. Matias brushed the hair from my eye. My hand was rubbing the front of his pants, and I couldn't believe what I was doing, but it was just progressing, and I didn't have any problem with it proceeding further. It's like I wanted this for the longest time, but I never wanted to let myself slip. Now, what happened; I was allowing myself willing to take the dive. We were actually committing ourselves to the other, exploring those prolonged feelings. As if to show how much of a sweet person Matias is when he's not screwing things up, he held my hand.

 

“Are you sure?” Matias asked.

 

"Yeah...," I murmured.

 

With that bit of information, Matias took hold of my crotch, and the feeling was electric. I was already hard, and Matias just grinned, murmuring, "oh…" like it was a pleasant surprise.

 

We kissed, tittered, and without consulting, I went back to manipulating Matias’s erection. The act felt risqué, and soon his pants were open to get better leverage. I sunk down off the seat and pulled off his jeans, leg by leg. Adding to the naughty allusion, my striptease fueled Matias's arousal and presumably my own. I had gotten so dirty, but it just felt right.

 

Shredding my t-shirt, then pants, I was back on the seat making out. Matias grimaced as he doffed his t-shirt, but that smile was still ever-present. He reached for my hardness, and likewise, I went for his stiffy. Eventually, I jerked Mattias off. Since he was injured, we couldn't be too hands-on, and we realized this quickly, so the hot romp turned out to be more emotionally investing. We placed our heads against each other; Matias's touch was soft and electrifying, how his playful manipulation of my dick brought about a fantastic ejaculation.

 

My hand wandered aimlessly, exploring his beautiful unblemished body, except for a deep purple bruise under his rib cage where he presumably hit the car. Matias leaned back, and later, I went down on him, enveloping everything he had to give. When the heat of the moment spewed into my mouth with a passionate grunt, I felt satisfied. I was content with pleasing Matias, but he returned the courtesy, reappreciating my offer. I recall looking at the ceiling, maybe whimpering as it felt so good. The cabin filled with sounds of soft panting, some slurping, and faint whispers. When the finale came, I lay there spent, then I peered down to Matias. He grinned, and I smirked back, verifying that he did an amazing job. It was my first blow job, and it was marvelous. Not that I had anything to compare it to, but it was just wow.

 

As Matias climbed from the floor between my legs, I started wiping away the slick spit from my penis. Matias giggled and sat on the chair beside me. Eventually, the two of us leaned against one another, feeling somewhat tired. All we had the energy to do was stare at each other, but ultimately, we slipped off for a bit.

 

I woke to the train shunting to a stop, and it seemed like thirty minutes had passed. Half in a daze, I recalled what we had just done, and it made me feel all gooey inside. Yet, feeling thirsty, I concluded that I also wanted to drink. Gazing over at Matias, he was sleeping soundly, his head on my shoulder, and it hurt me to disturb him. Carefully, I shifted his head to the backrest, hoping he'd stay upright, but instead, he woke just as I stood.

 

"Where're you going?" Matias asked.

 

Smiling, I lifted my discarded T-shirt from the pile of clothing on the ground, donned it, and started to redress.

 

“Thirsty…. getting a drink. You want something?” I said.

 

Pulling my pants up, I navigated leg by leg, doing the balancing act.

 

"Sure, can you get something with orange?" Matias asked.

 

Nodding, I shuffled on my shoes, broke the distance to Matias, traded salvia with him then made my way to the door. Shimmying out, I saw Matias sit up, look down at his nakedness, and he grinned as I slipped out into the corridor. Strolling to the dining car, I made a detour for the WC to clean up. The sex was great. It was everything I expected it to be, and maybe more. Yet, I didn't want everybody in the world to know it. What if people heard us or figured out what we just did? Could people smell sex? My mind flared up with all these wild questions. And so, I focused on washing my face, giving my mouth a rinse, followed by drying myself with a clump of toilet paper.

 

Discarding the paper, it fell apart in my hands; the flakes had to be brushed from my fingers. Some stubble had also broken out on my face; it would be a long time before I'd have another chance to shave. But with the bathroom thing done, I traveled down to the dining car, the rocking of the train persistent in shoving me left and right. I considered getting something to eat, and as I felt the train slowing down again, I made my way into the dining carriage. I imagined the train would be nonstop to the finish, but at this rate, we'd be forever getting there. There was a man pouring a hot drink for a woman at the bar, and one or two other people were sitting eating snacks and sandwiches.

 

Approaching the counter, the woman who ordered the hot drink paid, then I stepped up, asked for two drinks, one with orange, which the employee gave me a can of Crush, and I decided to get Moutain Dew, Black Cherry Edition. When the train had stopped, we were now in a train station in which folks were boarding. Figuring the employee behind the bar would know about the stoppages, I decided to strike up a conversation. According to the man, we were late departing, and it didn't help that we were held up a few miles back when we had to stop at a red light for another train to pass. After that station, however, it should've all been clear. Usually, they stop at that station. Something about it being the last junction until we were nearly outside of Acreage. Hearing that made me feel great. Not so much about returning home, but about getting moving.

 

By the time the train began to move, whoever had gotten on must have taken their seats. I finished paying for the drinks I acquired. Now it was down to whether I wanted something to eat. Maybe it was fate that I looked. I glanced down at the food display then the rack behind the counter. I was going to suggest muffins to fill the gap, but I don't know why. Distractedly, I peered across the room toward the opposite end of the carriage. In the gangway, two men were approaching wearing black. Both were looking around suspiciously. One of those men happened to be Pauli. It was enough to ignite the panic in me, and I waved my hand at the employee, saying I wasn't interested, took the two cans of soda, and sprang away, hurrying back the way I came. The barkeeper called after me, saying forgot my change, but his question fell on deaf ears. Gazing over my shoulder, out the windows, paranoia took over. Pauli made his way toward me, noticing the commotion. My panic was oblivious as I rushed to gain some ground.

 

Passing into the next carriage, resorting to speed walking, it put some distance between us, but Pauli planted some oomph into his step. Now I knew he was coming for me, and I needed to alert Matias just so he'd have a fighting chance. So he knew people were coming for us. Without warning, guided by my fear, I spun around, fired the can of Crush at Pauli. The can of soda hit off the window beside him, exploding and the fizz coating him in a sticky mess. No sooner had the second can of pop left my other hand. This time it hit him in the chest, where it slightly winded Pauli. I didn't wait to find out what was to happen next. I turned on my heel and started running.

 

"Kyle, stop… we only want to talk,” Pauli called after me.

 

I didn't believe that, not for one second. If Salvatore didn't want to hurt us, why would he pursue us, come looking at Doug's apartment, and now, the train? Yet, this time, what really alarmed me was how he could've known that we got the train. Turns out, they located the cabbie that had dropped us off, and with some persuasion, he squealed. Well, that's what the detective said. I'm still not sure who to believe; I still haven't seen Matias, and all I know is what happened, and right now, it's just me.

 

The swaying carriage didn't help, but with constant glances over my shoulder back toward the Pauli. A deep voice inside of me surfaced, yelling flooded the train, my warning alerting everybody. I ducked around the next gangway, crossed over into the next carriage, knocked over a bike that was sitting against the wall. I hoped that it would slow Pauli down, and I kept on running. With my legs burning from the acceleration, I raced toward our room. Matias jutted out from the cabin, and when he saw me running, he came bounding out into the hallway and started to sprint also. Running pell-mell, we entered the economy car; some people were roused from the commotion.

 

Pauli took out his gun and began firing at us; the sharp pops ricocheted throughout the interior. People scattered left and right, fleeing into their seats for protection, and we lunged into some random seats, too, taking shelter from the gunfire. My heart sank, and I'm pretty sure my face turned ashen white. My hands were clammy, my lips trembling, and all I wanted to do was hide. It was a flawed approach to the whole matter, considering all Pauli had to do was walk down that aisle and put a couple of the bullets in me to make me obsolete. Truth be told, I was terrified to move.

 

The screaming from people didn't help my sky-high anxiety, neither did the flakes and shavings of wood and the interior feathers from seating. A man who I'd never seen before got to his feet, and he was carrying a weapon. He returned fire to Pauli. The instantaneous exploding happening from Tiny’s end ceased as this immense and brooding guy approached our seats, his gun held tight with his death-defying grip, One bullet was all it took, and he was on the ground. Detective Wheeler said that the man had just been a random guy, and he was carrying a permitted concealed weapon.

 

The stranger fell forward with a gunshot to his chest. His gun slid inches toward me, and without thinking, I stretched out, clutched it, and miraculously, I did not get hit with all the stray projectiles. It was a Glock, and I'm pretty sure he fired two or three bullets. We'd have some protection, but I wasn't very confident with the odds stacked against us. Across the way, Matias was holding his hand up, telling me to return fire. Beside him was a young mother with an infant baby, crying, and as she protected her young, I knew we had to make a retreat. So many innocent people were in the firing line, and if we could just get out of the way, it would be so much better. The deafening gunfire, the short pops sent stuffing from seats raining down.

 

Pointing to the exit, Matias agreed, and I sent returning fire over the top of the chair, shooting blind. Somehow it was quick thinking, but I peered down the gap between all the seats, and miraculously one guy was at the other end. He was crouched, but as I saw him, he saw me. I put the gun up the seat, fired down the centerline, and took him out. I was up off the floor while Matias ran for cover. The shooting on Pauli’s end died; it stopped instantly while he unmistakably came to terms that I shot his partner. However, it never dawned on me that I had just killed another human being, and thinking about it. It's… how should I feel about it? It just… it happened. It was either him or me, and I was protecting myself, even if it's a despicable thing I did.

 

When I made it to the hallway, the firing came up again. Yet, far off, down in the next carriage, somebody in black was making their way toward us. Not wanting to be in a chokepoint, the two of us bolted for the stairs to the second floor. Whoever approached began firing haphazardly at us, propelling stray bullets back into the carriage where Paulie was now ducking out of the way.

 

Taking the steps leading up to the second deck, I discharged a shot around the bend toward the new approaching guy then headed up. Six rounds had been fired if my math was correct. I learned this little bit of knowledge from movies; it's the only gun I actually know. You'd have sixteen rounds if the chamber were full, including the clip. Yet, that night it was like I had been using weapons all my life.

 

On the second level, we realized that another man was searching for us, and when he saw, he roared to alert his pals. Panicked, I lifted the gun and fired. The shot killed the man, instantly striking him in the head, then he collapsed. We backtracked on ourselves, striving toward the back of the train. We race-walked into the next car, yelling at people to get down, and they did as they were told. We exited on the landing beside the next set of stairs, and to our surprise, somebody, who happened to be Pauli, had made his way up. It all happened so quick, but there was a struggle, my gun went off, and I'm pretty sure it hit him in the foot. Following his screams of agony, I shoved him, and he tumbled down the rest of the stairs. I didn't wait for him; I took off running. The guy who had been shooting at us, almost hitting Pauli in the same instant, closed in from behind, discharging his weapon rashly with no regard to where he was aiming it. So, into another carriage, we went and sprinted the length of the car. Just as we were about to go down the stairs, I shifted, sending off two shots. Yet, somebody stood up then yanked the emergency cord, and the entire train jerked. There was a loud squeal, and I was launched forward; overhead luggage came off the hanging shelf, and some people got hit, and it eventually clogged the aisles.

 

The crazy man who fired everywhere and anywhere lost his weapon; his gun dropped to the floor then coasted down the center aisle toward us. One final shot, I launched out of cover, smacking into a seat, and got him in the chest. The man fell down like a sack of potatoes, and he was done. Matias ended running the weapon, taking up the gun, and we were off again, climbing over debris from the abrupt stop we had just experienced. The cubby area in each of the gangways was now harder to navigate. I could feel the thick layer of sweat on my face, my heart racing. I felt alive and equally terrified. I was making my own decisions, and I was in control for the first time.

 

As we descended the stairs of the next landing into the walkway, Matias fired a shot at some random guy coming down the carriage. Pauli was hot on our tales now, hobbling as he pursued us. Down below, we rounded the corner, and I stopped just out of sight from the stairs. The idea was that when Pauli came down, I'd put round in his chest. The thundering of his footsteps came down the stairs, so, I readied myself. When I put a bullet in Pauli, it didn't kill him, and it just agitated him further.

 

Grabbing hold of me, he headbutted me, my vision went white, second pain like no other tore through me, and it soon became a scuffle. Fighting back, I stomped on his foot, knowing I had shot him there. The yowl of pain was enough for him to break away from me momentarily. Yet, it was only temporarily, as Pauli was quick to deliver another punch, using the butt of his gun, which was equally as deadly as knuckle dusters. I've seen the medical report. Plus, I've seen my face; it's not good. I'll always have a scar from where he hit me because he ripped a clean chunk out of my cheek.

 

My attempt to swipe back with the gun I held in my hand failed, a shot fired off at the window behind me, making it all go white, and the gun slipped from my grasp, falling to the floor. I attempted the kick the much larger man in the balls. However, that never worked because he was just too powerful, and to help, Matias fired a shot then realized the clip was empty. That asshole who had been firing bullets manically had depleted his entire ammo reserve.

 

Now infuriated, Pauli gave me one last punch squared to the face, dropped me on the table, and lunged at Matias. What follows next is probably the most horrific sound I've ever heard another human being make. As Pauli began to hit Matias, occasionally kicking him, the groans and shrieks of his agony were revolting. It sounds like a gazelle being disemboweled on the discovery channel. I could feel every last strike, every blow; I felt it. Somehow, and I'll never know until the day I die, I managed to rise off the table, pluck up the gun that I had dropped and shoot Pauli in the back. Getting the Glock on the floor is still a blur. However, this time the Pauli fell forward, almost crushing Matias. I stood in the aisle, staring down at the carnage. I was relieved to see Matias wiggle his way out from underneath the dead body. I found myself grinning, and I had single-handedly stopped him. I saved Matias, but the next thing I remember, I suddenly felt numb. There were two loud pops, then the numbness reached me first, followed by the searing heat.

 

In the blink of an eye, I was on the ground staring up at the ceiling. Matias was screaming, crying, his voice even breaking.

 

“Kyle, no, no,” Matias moaned.

 

He managed to crawl to me in the silence. I thought this was it. Laying there, I waited for the end. The subtle fire worked its way deeper into my spine, floated into my stomach, and from behind, a man stepped over me. I was paralyzed; I couldn't move. Salvatore staring down at me. That fucking man. I shifted then winched, my body weak but still wanting to fight. The man collected up the two guns between us. Presumably, the one Pauli owned, the other Matias had carried. Except, I could feel the weapon I had been holding trapped under my leg. If I had moved to get it, he would've noticed and killed me there and then. So, I continued to stare up at the ceiling, playing the victim. I groaned softly with pain, but everything just seemed lifeless. We had come so far, and now, we were going to die. It seemed like a rotten dream, a wasted effort.

 

Staring down at me, giving me a sympathetic look, Salvatore said, "it's almost over for you. You won't suffer for much longer."

 

Salvatore turned his attention to Matias, and as I lay there welcoming death, I smirked. I'd fought back this time around. Me... one who always acted beatings, no questions asked. Now, I chose my outcome. Salvatore glanced from Pauli to Matias.

 

"It's a shame; he was my best man. I'll have to find some loyal dogs now, huh?" Salvatore chided.

 

Salvatore's attention returned to me, his arm extended, the gun pointed at me. I wanted to close my eyes. I was tired, and I wanted to die. Yet, I desired to look him in the eye, hoping he'd be forever haunted for pulling the trigger for the rest of his life. Every time Sal looked at himself in the mirror, he’d see my eyes staring up at him defiantly, one last act of rebellion.

 

“Leave em’ be,” Matias croaked.

 

The vicious beating that Pauli had given Matias had finally caught up with him, and he was frail. Yet Salvatore shifted his attention to Matias. It dawned on me that maybe I should have seen this through to the end. What was another bullet? He will kill me anyway? You might as well make it a bullet worth dying for? If I managed to get a fatal hit on Salvatore, that would make dying so much more satisfying. And so that brought about the moment when I began analyzing how I'd get the gun. There couldn't be any sudden movements; Salvatore was the kind of person who shoots first and asks questions later.

 

"You went and really bollixed it up. Both of you have one job. That cockroach Copeland will be all over my ass now. I don't know what I saw in you. I believed I saw myself, if I'm honest. But… I wouldn't have fucked up. When I got into this business, I met this guy. The man said, 'even if the boat is sinking, don't let yourself drown without taking some sewer rats with you. If it's your fault, own it, and if it's someone else's, make them regret it. I'm not sinking alone,'" Salvatore said.

 

Sal was peering down at Matias, then it dawned on me. Salvatore cares so much about his ego, and he doesn't like it if you bruise it. If I were to insult him, he might resort to kicking me, and then I have an excuse to turn over onto my stomach to get the gun. So, doing what I have always done, pretending that the punches and kicks my father gave me never hurt, I smiled.

 

"Fucking coward," I jeered. "Can't drown on your own, so you take the whole ship with you."

 

I broke into a frenzy of hysteria, shrieking and laughing. Sal gave me a look of contempt, insinuating I shouldn't go there and not to push my luck. Though what use was it? I was gonna die.

 

"Shut up!" Salvatore demanded.

 

With a good swift kick, just like dad's, Sal fuelled my fire. The laughter grew louder, and that displeased him, so he gave me a kick again. If I did one good thing with my life, saving another person would be a great deed. Another blow came; my head felt hot, my conscience clear, my mind open. I twisted onto my side, another boot to the abdomen. It began to hurt, hurt so well.

 

"Fucking cowards way out…." I groaned, spitting out a concoction of blood and God knows what.

 

I heard Matias's voice squeal, "stop… you're killing him."

 

My hand snaked down the side of my body, searching for the gun, and my palm locked around it, my finger weaving its way to the trigger. If to prove his point, Salvatore turned his back on me, wagging his finger at Matias.

 

“And that’s what I’m going to do… kill him,” Sal said.

 

With his attention glued to Matias crying, aided with my fuelled adrenaline, I turned over somehow. Everything hurt, and with a faint breath, I raised the gun.

 

"Not before I kill you," I said gravely.

 

Bang

 

The shot pinged through the carriage, and there was a quietness. Sal dropped his gun, squeezed his hand to his throat as he realized he was now bleeding out. There was look of... not concern, but remorse. Salvatore believed he couldn't be duped. He started scrambling, stepping over Matias, leaning against the backrest of all the chairs. He left a trail of blood, and eventually, Sal caved into one of the seats, his legs left blocking the aisle. Had this been what I was meant to do? I don't know, but all I do know is that Matias was safe. Matias sat up, clutching his torso, and eventually, he dragged himself to me. Seeing as the danger had gone, I let the gun drop to my side. It made a dull clank. But just to be sure, because I couldn't be sure anymore.

 

“Did I get him?” I said

 

“Yeah…” Matias murmured.

 

I'd like to think I smiled, not that I have much information of what happened next, but I'd like to think I close my eyes with a smile. I never thought that killing someone would be so satisfying, but Salvatore deserved it. Now that I'm writing, this may be his particular murder was justified. And with an aching body and fulfilled heart, I decided it was time to rest.

 

"Stay with me…." Matias cried.

 

“It's okay…." I said.

 

Well, I'm assuming he cried after me, and I don't know. That seemed tragic and romantic all at the same time. Yet, I was just tired, and I wanted to stop fighting, so I just gave in, let go.

 

That's all I can really remember, and supposedly I've been in a coma for nearly a week, and Matias is... I don't know. Somewhere. I've had no visitors yet, but I think Amy might have come by when I was unconscious. I'm beginning to feel tired again, so, I might rest for a bit. I guess I'll keep you updated as things progress. But... here's what I know... Salvatore is dead, and I'm alive. Now that's something.

 

Talk soon,

Kyle

 

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