Chapter 8: Marin with Blood
The morning sun filtered through the thinning trees of the Madi forest. The river was close now. Frank walked ahead in silence while Mark and John trailed behind him.
Mark glanced at John, his voice low. “Still afraid?”
“You didn’t choose anything, Mark?” John replied, exhaustion in his tone. Maybe he hadn’t rested since Maria died. Maybe even before that. “Frank is a madman, he’ll wound us before he dies.”
Mark wanted to believe in peace again—to forget everything and hope for something better. He forced a small smile. “Hold on to hope, John.”
They reached the Marin River. Mark had heard it was filthy, black with runoff from distant cities. But here, it was unexpectedly clear, drifting over smooth white sand, shallow enough for a man to walk through.
Frank sat down on a splintered log near the riverbank. Mark approached him. “Are you still hoping for them to join, Frankie?”
“I don’t know,” Frank replied, staring at the water. He touched his wound and saw his hand was stained with blood.
“Is it hurting?”
“Yeah. It started this morning.”
Mark frowned. “We have to go beyond Walton for your safety, and we’ll also have vaccine there.”
Frank narrowed his eyes. “You’re believing him?”
Mark hesitated, then said it. “Frankie… I think John is right.”
Frank turned slowly, his gaze sharp. “So, you chose to follow him?”
“No. I chose to protect you. You should at least listen to him. The IFA is corrupted, Frankie.”
“He was never my friend. And I’m done listening.”
Mark met Frank’s eyes. “What if he’s right?”
Frank stared at the ground, hesitant. “He’s bluffing.”
Mark took the bottle from Frank’s bag and tossed it to John. John caught it and drank deeply, nearly finishing the whole thing.
Mark muttered, “I realized that you were telling truth, John.”
“How you came to that point.”
“I called IFA and…”
“What?” John cut Mark’s word in middle. “You called them? Are you mad? I told you to be careful. You did the same mistake as I have made.”
“Sorry, John.”
John wiped his mouth. “The end is near, Mark. Ready for the consequences.”
Mark didn’t answer. He turned back toward Frank just as Frank’s phone rang. He answered in a low voice.
“Frank? Are you there?”
“Yes, Master. I’m totally here.”
The voice on the other end was cold. “We can’t come, Frank.”
Frank was shocked but didn’t show it. He knew what was coming. Everyone on the riverbank did.
Mark turned to John and shouted, “Run, John! Run!”
John understood and slowly rose. Frank’s hand moved to his hip, pulling out his pistol, his eyes locked on John.
“We’ve decided the traitor must die. Get him, Frank.”
The call ended. As Frank drew his gun, Mark shouted, “Run!” John started to run, but Frank aimed. Suddenly, Mark lunged at Frank, tackling him to the ground with a thud. The gun flew from Frank’s hand, skidding across the dirt.
Frank scrambled toward his pistol, but Mark grabbed his legs, pulling him back. “Frank, don’t,” Mark murmured.
Frank ignored him, eyes flashing red. He thrashed, slamming his heel into Mark’s face over and over. Mark yelled, “Frank!” but refused to let go despite the pain. With a sudden shove, Frank broke free, sending Mark sprawling. He grabbed his pistol and turned, searching for John, who was far away, running.
Frank aimed and pulled the trigger.
The shot rang out.
John collapsed, dead.
Mark lay numb on the ground, eyes wide, gasping for breath. Hope was lost. The IFA was corrupt. His father, the man he believed to be a hero, had blood on his hands. He wanted to save John, but it was too late. He slowly got up, gripping his Lifesaver tightly. His voice trembled but was firm. “What have you done, Frankie? You proved him right. This world isn’t a place for hope.”
Frank’s voice was soft. “At least now, we can live in peace.”
Mark raised the Lifesaver, aiming it at Frank.
Frank’s eyes narrowed. “What are you doing, Mark?”
Tears streamed down Mark’s face. “I told you not to do this.”
“You’ll kill me for him? I was your friend. I saved you. He was just some guy from yesterday.”
“I believed you were my friend, but you… you disappoint me, Frankie.”
“The traitor is gone. It was needed.”
“It’s time to flee.” Mark reloaded the Lifesaver, still aiming. “Goodbye, Frankie.” Frank screamed, “No! Mark, no!”
Mark pressed the Lifesaver to his throat and fired.
The shot echoed, a final, terrible sound. Frank gasped, staggering back. “No! Damn it, God! You ruined everything!” His voice cracked. “Oh God…” Dizzy and broken, he looked down at Mark’s lifeless face, the bullet wound in his throat. The IFA was corrupt. His friend was gone. Maria was gone. Everyone was a traitor. He slowly reached for Mark, holding him in his arms. “Mark! I’m sorry. You are a true friend. A gentle man.”
There was no food. The IFA agents weren’t coming. The dagger wound was killing him slowly. It felt like the virus was getting inside of him. He gasped and fell to the ground with hopeless, vomitting.
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Next Story when??
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