Survival and Sacrifice

Vin heard her words but believed nothing would get them out of that situation. Still, he mindlessly reached inside his pocket and then withdrew his skateboard tool. One side had a pointed screwdriver head, but it was nearly inconsequential.

"We can do it," Lynn said faintly. She told Vin to wait there, then wandered over to where the Jeep had been bashed up. While she was gone, he began to ruminate on how she was that much stronger than him. What drove her? Or maybe she'd been the first of them to go insane?

Regardless, Lynn returned. She carried a white container, but the first thing she handed him was a photo.

"There were child-sized skates in the trunk…"

Vin knew what she was implying and exactly what she'd handed him. He looked at the photo and discerned a family of four. A young girl about their age was on the left, and a boy much younger on the right. In the center stood a lovely wife and her dashing husband, who, despite suddenly appearing in a foreign world, called out to two unknown kids with the urgency of a great father.

"I memorized their license plate, so you should keep the picture. We can find the family after we get home," she said.

"Sure…" Vin breathed, crushed at the mere idea of having to tell that family they'd be without a father. At the same time, he missed his own household.

The case Lynn had carried was a first-aid kit. It included an antiseptic spray, an assortment of bandages, medical scissors, gloves, a cold pack, and a few other standard supplies.

It was a good find, but after a glance at Lynn's weakening body, Vin also asked, "No food or drinks?"

Lynn shook her head but revealed an item she held underneath the case. "No weapons either, but there was a lighter in the glove compartment."

'Even David had a slingshot against Goliath.'

Then again, why was fighting even an option on his mind? It was unthinkable. Did her stupidity rub off on him? Who knew? But at the very least, Vin didn't want her to perish there with him.

"Let me wrap your head," she muttered, handing Vin the med kit to hold while she operated. First, she removed the jacket she'd previously used as a placeholder. It was stained with dark, dried blood, but the wound on his head was mainly clotted. Still, she used antiseptic spray to disinfect it, filling the space with the smell of alcohol.

While she acted, Vin felt remorseful. She'd been too generous to him after everything he'd done to her. 'There may not be another chance to say this, so-'

"Lynn," Vin weakly whispered, obtaining her attention.

Unlike before, Vin found it easy to form the words and plainly told the girl, "Sorry for everything that'd happened before."

"I'm not happy about it, but I get it, "she replied.

"It must have been difficult being the only genius in our scene," she added, placing the spray back inside the case and grabbing clean bandages.

Vin's tone involuntarily softened as he grew light-headed, and his legs struggled to hold him. Even though the girl patched up his exterior, his vitals were declining. "That's not entirely it… I was frustrated and probably jealous."

"Of me? Why?" She returned in surprise.

"I don't know, man. Guess I just don't take rejection well... I don't approach many people, so it pissed me off to be discounted."

"You were always so cool while skating all alone. You looked dejected, but I could tell you were happy despite constantly losing."

Lynn wrapped his wound tightly and casually ignored most of his words. "I would have won that last race."

"Doubt it," Vin exhaled.

"Then, once you get better, we'll decide whose better," she proposed.

Vin closed his eyes, wheezed, and replied, "You can have as many as you want; you'll never win."

Lynn placed everything back in the medical case, then lightly punched his chest. "Jerk."

It wasn't hard, but the sudden pressure triggered a mainly controlled cough that he was able to quiet quickly. Lynn apologized, then modestly covered her mouth softly, saying, "I was going through a lot when you approached me that day... I had a perfect losing streak in my previous town and moved to the city with everything to prove to my family. You were just a distraction I couldn't afford."

Vin, feeling faint, lowered his head and closed his eyes while fighting the urge to crumple: "You know my father's famous; I could have helped you, ya know."

Lynn saw Vin's instability, then worriedly tapped his cheeks several times until he stirred, "Well, afterward, you started acting like an asshole. My nose bled for an hour after you undid my shoestrings, and I fell."

"I was horrible to you, and I'm sorry," Vin responded. He weakly handed her the med kit and took the antiseptic spray and lighter. He flicked the flame and then sprayed the solution from behind, simulating a miniature flame thrower.

"I'll burn this monster to death to make up for it," he jested in a lethargic manner.

It was a trick he learned, and often got in trouble for in grade school. Guiltily, he was still intrigued by it and played with fire as a teenager.

Lynn didn't seem too impressed; he guessed starting fires was just a guy thing. Vin cut the gas from the lighter, then was struck by a revelation. He blanked momentarily, stepping away from his body and into his mind.

'Starting a fire…' he thought. Strangely, like in his surreal dream the other night, he could visualize an intense blaze, the roaring intensity, the sound, even loosely the feeling of its heat. Vin thought it might have been a side effect of being so near death, but his imagination had never been more powerful.

"Hang on..." he said numbly. Everything that followed this request felt like a fever dream. All he thought and would soon do was the actions of a man with one foot in the grave, discombobulated and disassociated from reality.

Before Lynn could ask what his plan was, he was already in the medical case, unwrapping every pack of bandages. She watched him curiously as he began to slothfully tie them all together with individual knots until he had a rope about 4 feet long. Next, Vin took the antiseptic spray and unloaded the canister onto the line, soaking it in alcohol.

He could see it so clearly.

"Wait here," he asserted, limping away. The vehicle was mangled, but luckily, it was right-side up. Even more fortunate was that it was a truck, so its tires were suspended, leaving a good chunk of the vehicle above water.

He roamed to the driver's side door, which was smashed in and impossible to open. Fortunately, the owner had lowered the window when they landed in the swamp. Vin didn't need to get inside, only lean in to reach the dashboard.

He peeked inside to observe the control panel layout, then noticed shattered bottles of beer that'd marinated the vehicle in the stink of booze. 'Lynn didn't mention there was beer in here…'

Vin nonchalantly leaned far inside to grab the only bottle that hadn't fractured. He flipped the cap off the drink using the car's roof and sipped.

His face warped in repugnance once the liquid's taste registered, thinking, 'Gross. I don't know why Dad drinks these…'

Vin looked at the rope he'd previously tied and rued using all the bandages. Since he was out of material, he mindlessly untied the wrappings on his head and tucked half of it into the bottle while the rest dangled on the outside.

'A molotov.' His degenerate fascination with fire actually served him for something.

He wasn't sure if the beer was as flammable as he'd seen in movies, but the new weapon was just icing for the cake he was baking.

Vin held onto the bottle as he returned to the driver's side, then sat it on the roof. He reached inside the vehicle and felt around the inner console until his hand eventually hit a switch that popped open the gas cap.

'Good,' he confirmed, roaming to the fuel port. Next, he tucked the tied, alcohol-drenched rope into the car's gas tank, leaving part hanging out.

'Alright,' He began. 'The car's alarm system stopped blaring when that thing rammed into it, but hopefully, the manual horn still works.'

Lynn had watched him from their hiding spot. He knew she was hardheaded, but he prayed just once that she'd sit still and let him pay his debts.

Without much further thought, Vin slumped inside the driverside window. He just about shut down, but he forced his arm to intentionally press the center of the steering wheel, which triggered the car horn.

He held it for a while to ensure the message got across, then he withdrew to the open gas tank and collapsed in front of it. While prone, the water rose to his chin, which really hammered the disgusting stench into his nose, but he didn't need to worry much longer.

The girl in glasses had begun a mad dash toward him, but the mud had severely slowed her down. 'Of course, she's coming… I'm glad I didn't tell her the plan.'

He knew that the fuse to his current car bomb was relatively short. It'd need to be lit while the monster was as close as possible to the vehicle. Otherwise, if they lit the rope and ran, the hungry monster would only follow them away from the explosion.

Before, he had wondered if he could be as brave and selfless as Lynn.

Probably not.

Even as he sat there, holding a lighter up to the alcohol-drenched rope that led into a gas tank, he didn't think himself valiant.

'Whatever.' He was okay with that and resolved to stay there as the decaying slug dashed into his sights from the north and veered straight for him.

In a solemn, last act, he flicked the lighter mechanism, igniting the drenched rope's lowest part. The flame steadily rose upward, directed toward the gas port.

Perhaps because he felt accomplished in his goal, his body went completely numb after the fire was lit. It was time to rest-

'Oh…' he remembered, his mind mostly a dying haze. 'I was supposed to throw the molotov at it too.'

'Oh, well,' he finished, closing his eyes.

…

He voided. He felt blessed to have lost most of his senses. The violent crunch on his upper right body didn't hurt as much. He couldn't see, but the visual of the stranger being torn apart gave him enough info to imagine what was happening.

That cursed monster only knew forward. It'd likely been biting him while slamming its body head-first into the Jeep. And, as luck would have it, they were stationed right next to the fuel port.

Vin had hoped Lynn would have given up, but of course, faint yelling echoed in his head. It was outside of his perception, but a hand had gone through his pocket and withdrawn the utility tool. The girl used it to stab the monster in its last good eye, and simultaneously, the rear of the car burst into flames, burning the right side of Vin's body.

It wasn't an explosion as he'd hoped for, but, with his, it burned the head of the decaying monster who released its deadly grip in agony.

Vin's hair and clothing had caught fire, so there was little Lynn could do but forcefully submerge him in the rotten water. The water quelled the flames while she dragged him around Jeep, which had begun to illuminate the foggy swamp in an intense blaze.

Still, the monster swirled around, in pain but very much alive. Its rampaged moves swept waves of water that quelled the flames on its form. After a while, it was utterly fanned out.

Lynn carried Vin to the opposite side of the Jeep, then hailed a voracious scream to antagonize the now completely blind monster. With nothing left but its hearing, it charged mindlessly toward her voice, only she was positioned behind the Jeep, and it was baited into driving its decaying body into the flames once again.

The fire climbed its wounded form, burning its already rotting skin. Still, it'd only be a matter of time before it danced in the waves again to soak itself. Knowing this, Lynn had grabbed the molotov from the roof and, with a furious howl, launched the bottle at the monster. Since its body was already ignited, she didn't need the lighter to light the fabric.

A harrowing shriek fled the monster's maw, and its squirming intensified as it whipped and thrashed in torment. The grasp of flames was not easily extinguished with its body soaked in alcohol; it thrashed about for minutes while Lynn prayed aloud for it to die. Inevitably, it did begin to slow, then ceased movement.

It was larger, stronger, and more deprived than the two youths, yet after a day and night of anguish, they'd slain it. The owner of the Jeep could hopefully rest in peace knowing their killer was destroyed.

The two had prevailed over one hurdle, but it wasn't over for them. Not yet.