returned to Baja’s home that day, all of us did except Jess, Wren and Rowan. I don’t think any of us wanted to be alone. Not that I think it mattered, as from the moment we entered each of us reached for alcohol. Ben grabbed up a bottle of scotch and disappeared into the study, Elijah’s choice was rum, Baja lay out on the bar and consumed everything and anything that was within reach.
I lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply as I wandered up to the roof. A wave of sadness washed over me as I thought about Izzy’s words, her acts of kindness, her gags and banter with Baja. Tears rolled down my face as my chest felt the weight of it all. Leaning up against the wall I looked out over the ocean. How had it come to this? At least the undead didn’t know what they were doing. What on earth was to be gained through such a senseless act? Why had they released us? None of it made sense.
I’m not sure how long I was on that roof before Baja appeared. Thirty minutes, maybe an hour. When he emerged he had a bottle of Jack Daniel’s in one hand and a bottle of Heineken in the other.
“Johnny B. Goode. Go, Johnny, go, go,” he slurred in a drunken state as he staggered across the roof and collapsed onto the white outdoor sofa. I watched him swig back on the bottle before raising it in the air.
“To the girl who never knew how beautiful she was. To the one that made every sunrise and sunset worthwhile. To you, Izzy,” he swigged his drink and closed his eyes. “I loved her, Johnny.”
“We all did, brother.”
“No. I really loved her and now she’ll never know.”
I studied his face feeling his pain. There were no words to describe the loss that all of us felt.
“She’ll know. I have to believe that she is still with us in one form or another.”
He swung his legs around. “You were right, Johnny. None of this matters. We were never safe. It was all just an illusion.” He let out a chuckle before tossing his empty bottle at the wall. It exploded and glass scattered.
“All I wanted was to…” he trailed off unable to even form words in his sorrow.
“We’ll get them,” a voice said from behind us. It was Rowan.
Baja starred at him. “Get out of here.”
“What?”
“If you hadn’t charged in there…”
Rowan’s eyes darted between us as if somehow he thought I was going to intervene. I knew it wasn’t his fault. Wet behind the ears or not, he was just following orders.
“Look, I’m sorry, Baja.”
Baja rose to his feet, grabbing up another bottle. “You’re sorry?” he chuckled looking at me. “He’s sorry, Johnny.” One swipe of his hand and the bottle smashed against the table leaving just the neck end in Baja’s hand. He jabbed it out in front of him.
“I should fucking cut you from ear to ear.”
“Baja,” I muttered but he didn’t hear me.
“Or perhaps…” he trailed off bringing the broken bottle up to his own throat.
“No, no.” I moved forward knowing that all it would take was one smooth motion and his jugular would be sliced.
Tears streaked his face. “I don’t want to deal with this anymore, Johnny.”
Keeping my hands in front of me I felt as if I was on a tightrope hundreds of miles up in the air, knowing that even the slightest movement could mean certain death. I inched my way forward.
“You think Izzy would want this?” Rowan asked.
“Screw you. You don’t get to have a say in what she would have wanted,” he replied.
“Baja, it’s not his fault. If anyone’s to blame, it’s Sebastian.”
“I don’t care anymore. It’s all gone, Johnny. What little hope is gone. Hope…” he chuckled. “There’s no hope, no future, no nothing.”
Dear god, please don’t slice, I repeated over in my mind as if I could will him to not do it.
“Drop it, man,” I said. “Don’t. This isn’t the way.”
“It isn’t? What is this then? Because all I see around me is loss. Maybe today we live but tomorrow someone else will be gone. I don’t think
I lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply as I wandered up to the roof. A wave of sadness washed over me as I thought about Izzy’s words, her acts of kindness, her gags and banter with Baja. Tears rolled down my face as my chest felt the weight of it all. Leaning up against the wall I looked out over the ocean. How had it come to this? At least the undead didn’t know what they were doing. What on earth was to be gained through such a senseless act? Why had they released us? None of it made sense.
I’m not sure how long I was on that roof before Baja appeared. Thirty minutes, maybe an hour. When he emerged he had a bottle of Jack Daniel’s in one hand and a bottle of Heineken in the other.
“Johnny B. Goode. Go, Johnny, go, go,” he slurred in a drunken state as he staggered across the roof and collapsed onto the white outdoor sofa. I watched him swig back on the bottle before raising it in the air.
“To the girl who never knew how beautiful she was. To the one that made every sunrise and sunset worthwhile. To you, Izzy,” he swigged his drink and closed his eyes. “I loved her, Johnny.”
“We all did, brother.”
“No. I really loved her and now she’ll never know.”
I studied his face feeling his pain. There were no words to describe the loss that all of us felt.
“She’ll know. I have to believe that she is still with us in one form or another.”
He swung his legs around. “You were right, Johnny. None of this matters. We were never safe. It was all just an illusion.” He let out a chuckle before tossing his empty bottle at the wall. It exploded and glass scattered.
“All I wanted was to…” he trailed off unable to even form words in his sorrow.
“We’ll get them,” a voice said from behind us. It was Rowan.
Baja starred at him. “Get out of here.”
“What?”
“If you hadn’t charged in there…”
Rowan’s eyes darted between us as if somehow he thought I was going to intervene. I knew it wasn’t his fault. Wet behind the ears or not, he was just following orders.
“Look, I’m sorry, Baja.”
Baja rose to his feet, grabbing up another bottle. “You’re sorry?” he chuckled looking at me. “He’s sorry, Johnny.” One swipe of his hand and the bottle smashed against the table leaving just the neck end in Baja’s hand. He jabbed it out in front of him.
“I should fucking cut you from ear to ear.”
“Baja,” I muttered but he didn’t hear me.
“Or perhaps…” he trailed off bringing the broken bottle up to his own throat.
“No, no.” I moved forward knowing that all it would take was one smooth motion and his jugular would be sliced.
Tears streaked his face. “I don’t want to deal with this anymore, Johnny.”
Keeping my hands in front of me I felt as if I was on a tightrope hundreds of miles up in the air, knowing that even the slightest movement could mean certain death. I inched my way forward.
“You think Izzy would want this?” Rowan asked.
“Screw you. You don’t get to have a say in what she would have wanted,” he replied.
“Baja, it’s not his fault. If anyone’s to blame, it’s Sebastian.”
“I don’t care anymore. It’s all gone, Johnny. What little hope is gone. Hope…” he chuckled. “There’s no hope, no future, no nothing.”
Dear god, please don’t slice, I repeated over in my mind as if I could will him to not do it.
“Drop it, man,” I said. “Don’t. This isn’t the way.”
“It isn’t? What is this then? Because all I see around me is loss. Maybe today we live but tomorrow someone else will be gone. I don’t think
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