There was a lot about the night’s events that Jackson was certain he’d never forget, and a lot that he thought was just plain insane, and even more that he had no way of comprehending; but at the moment, nothing confused him more than Luke Tuan. In fact, as Jackson sat on the ground at the bow of the boat, his arm around Mark as they tried to get his nose to stop bleeding, Jackson decided that he was tired of trying to figure Luke out.

Luke was crazy. End of subject.

Made perfect sense. But not really.

The last long minutes of Jackson’s life hadn’t made sense at all, because no one had seemed more shocked to see Luke on that boat than Raymond Tuan. In fact, Jackson was under the impression that Raymond had never expected to see Luke again, but now that he’d figured out that wasn’t the case, Raymond seemed overly pleased with the more unstable of his two sons. He’d even produced a second weapon, and disturbingly, Luke seemed to be very comfortable with it in his hands as he watched over Mark and Jackson.

Braving a glance over his shoulder, Jackson saw his father watching him from above where he was seated next to the wheel. Raymond was now in charge of navigation, and both of them looked irritated, but then, both of them had faces swelling in places due to badly aimed punches.

And it was quiet. Except for the sound of the engine, the water hitting the sides of the boat, it seemed too quiet. The tension was suffocating, and the fear... Jackson didn’t really want to think about the fear.

“What are you doing?” Jackson whispered. He didn’t know exactly why he was talking to Luke, but it was likely out of desperation.

Luke smiled at Jackson, much like a parent amused by a confused child. “I’m surviving, Jackson.”

“You’re out of your mind,” Jackson retorted. “Look what your parents did to you... Your mom’s dead, Luke... and your dad...you’re helping your dad.” Nothing about the notion was comprehensible for Jackson. “He was going to go to jail for a very long time. Now what do you think is going to happen to you? Neither of you will get away with this. Jay called people from your house... someone’s gonna know what happened. And what about your brother, Luke? What happens to Mark?”

Mark frowned at Jackson, as if he’d really rather not think about that himself.

“If I were you, Jackson,” Luke replied, “I’d be more worried about myself. See, it doesn’t really matter when it comes to anyone else. Think about it; if you don’t survive, and let’s face it, there’s a good chance you won’t, then what does it matter what happens to everyone else after you’re gone. They’re their own problem. It’s out of your control...I mean, unless you take control.”

“And is that what you’re doing?” Jackson replied.

Luke shrugged. “Maybe. I might as well have it, right? I don’t trust anyone besides myself... and lately I’ve been thinking that it was stupid to think I could.” He seemed to direct this last remark at Mark, who became visibly upset by it.

“I don’t want you to be in trouble anymore, Luke,” Mark said.

“I know you don’t,” Luke replied. “But the thing is, that just isn’t up to you anymore, Mark. Never was.”

“Luke!” Raymond suddenly called. “Stop playing around with them and help me look for a good spot.”

Luke looked in his father’s direction calmly, right before he held his middle finger up in Raymond’s direction. Raymond snorted, and Luke rolled his eyes as he stood from the railing he’d been leaning on and flicked the barrel of his gun in Jackson and Mark’s direction. “Don’t go nowhere,” he remarked. “You won’t want to miss what happens next.”

Above them, Ricky released a frustrated breath that he hoped covered his nervousness and looked at Raymond. “This is ridiculous. Why don’t you just let the boys go, alright? We can settle this ourselves.”

Raymond laughed. “Sorry, Ricky. I just can’t bring myself to do that.”

“They’re just kids!” Ricky snapped.

“I know, and trust me, we wouldn’t have nearly as much fun without them.”

***

In the sixth grade, Jeremy Bethard tried to join the football team at school. Twenty minutes into his first practice, he was tackled during an exercise and fractured his collarbone, and learned exactly why an athletic cup was invented. So after careful consideration, he decided that he wasn’t one to do pain and took up photography instead.  But he’d always wondered if giving up on becoming the school’s most popular jock, perhaps the future homecoming king and maybe even superhuman babe magnet, had been worth abandoning just to avoid a long series of injuries that he would likely endure as a result of following those dreams. Waking up in the Wang’s bathroom with broken glass stuck in his hair only convinced him that he had, indeed, made an appropriate decision.

“Jeremy? How many fingers, Jeremy?”

Jeremy opened one eye, then the other as he stared up at the woman talking very loudly over him. “You’re pretty.”

Sophia Wang liked to think that she had a sense of humor, but this didn’t seem like the time to display it. “Can you get up?” she asked.

Jay thought about it for a minute, among other things. He thought until he remembered exactly how he’d ended up on the bathroom floor with sore places that he hadn’t even known he had, and then he answered her question by bolting upright, looking around as if he half expected to be assaulted again.

“Are you alright?” Sophia asked. “Do you know where you are?”

Jay gave a short nod, partly in response, and in part to test his stiff neck before his eyes settled on Shayla, who was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, looking pale in the face. Suffering a moment of confusion, the redheaded little girl he saw was his sister and his concern was immediate. “Destinee?”

Both Shayla and Sophia looked at him oddly, and he shook his head, attempting to pull himself together. “Shayla,” he corrected himself. “Are you doing alright?”

Shayla sniffed, wiping away invisible tears. “He took Mark.”

Jay looked towards the door, and with Sophia’s assistance, found his feet.

“We think they left the house,” Sophia explained. “Jay, what’s going on?”

“We have to get out,” Jay replied, moving to try the doorknob.”

“It’s jammed from the outside,” Sophia said, but she’d hardly finished the sentence before the bang of Jay’s body hitting the wooden door echoed through the room, and then again, and again as he repeatedly rammed the side of his body against it, and then for good measure, he started to kick.

“Jay...” Sophia started to object, but realizing that the boy’s idea was better than any she currently had, she ended up next to him, the two of them attempting to knock the door in.

“Mommy!” Shayla objected, covering her ears.

“Maybe we should wait for help,” Sophia suggested, causing Jay to pause and look at her.

“If they left the house, I don’t think there is help coming,” he replied. “Raymond killed his wife... he knows we know it, and if he doesn’t already have Jackson, I think he’ll be going after him next.”

Sophia took a moment to digest what she was hearing, and a moment later she was kicking at the door with Jeremy again.

Down the hall, past the kitchen and in the living room there was a coffee table wedged up against the back of the sofa. A keepsake Sophia had acquired from her late grandfather. Unbeknownst to her, someone had carelessly left a pile of old receipts and pages from one of Shayla’s many coloring books scattered over the surface, beneath a low-burning candle that had recently been standing decoratively atop the dresser in her bedroom. A stray cat that Jackson had refused to place outside sat on the floor, wagging its long tail as it watched the shadows from the flame with interest, releasing a loud mew as a colored picture of a horse caught fire and went up in flames; and as the small fire slowly spread the feline’s instincts did exactly what they were supposed to do as the animal fled out a crack beneath the kitchen counter, into the woods, and away from the danger.

***

“How long was I down there, Jackson? How long was I...nothing.”

It had started sprinkling again, the raindrops tapping the trees, water feeling unclean as it dripped down from above. Jackson’s shoes were soggy, his pants drenched from tracking through waist-deep water as they made their way into a little cove, away from the boat. No porch lights in the distance, no lights from the dock. He felt disoriented as he looked over his shoulder at Luke, who trailed the line Raymond Tuan led with Jackson, Ricky and Mark somewhere in the middle.

“You weren’t nothing,” Jackson replied, insisting to himself that now was not the time to say anything cruel, anything provoking.

“Just answer the question,” Luke responded.

“Nine days. I think.”

Luke released a bemused little sigh. “That’s all? Felt longer.”

“I’m sor–”

“Of course you are. Now,” Luke interrupted.

Jackson continued walking, sharing a glance with Mark, who was in front of him. It was meant to encourage each other, but if that was the purpose, their efforts failed miserably.

“Do I get to ask a question now?” Jackson asked Luke.

“You don’t have to,” Luke replied. “I already know what you’re thinking.”

“I doubt it.”

“It’s not that hard to figure out. You’re wondering the same thing that I was wondering for... what was it? Nine days.”

“Luke...”

“You want to know what’s going to happen to you,” Luke continued.  “You want to know if this is really happening, if you’re going to die before the sun comes back up. Bet you’re wondering if it’s going to hurt.”

“Okay. Just stop,” Jackson stated.

“Wouldn’t that be nice? If we could all just stop... wake up in our beds tomorrow and know...”

“Know what?” Jackson asked.

“That we’re somewhere better.”

“You can stop this,” Jackson whispered, his voice becoming a little more shaky than he was comfortable with. “Luke, you can...”

“You’re not listening,” Luke cut him off. “You can’t ask for my help. You have to trust yourself... you’re the only one out here you can trust. So... aren’t you going to ask?”

“Ask what?”

“What’s going to happen to you?”

“I would... if I didn’t think you were going to tell me it was up to me.”

“You don’t think it is?”

“I don’t know, Luke,” Jackson responded irritably. “If I had a choice I’d run... but then you’d shoot me in the back.”

“So don’t run, it’d be a bad choice.”

“Luke...”

“It’s all about choices,” Luke said. “You’ll see... and if you let him in your head, you’ll probably make the wrong one. But it’ll happen, Jackson. He’ll be in your head. He’ll put you in the dark.”

“Is he in your head, Luke?”

“D’you think so?”

Jackson simply shook his head. “What I think... is that you’re all a bunch of ing lunatics.”

Luke laughed something that was so void of humor that it only proved as another reminder that he was definitely not Mark, and thinking of Mark had Jackson picking up his pace to catch up to him. Mark, who had no place out here. It was a mystery to Jackson as he wondered how Mark could have turned out the way he had with a family like this.

“I wanna go home, Jackson,” Mark whispered.

“I know you do,” Jackson replied, lifting a hand to squeeze his friend’s shoulder.

Up ahead of them, Raymond Tuan suddenly looked back, his eyes settling on Jackson. Ricky saw it, and purposely moved in front of his son, but it did little good as Raymond shoved him aside and grinned at Jackson again.

“Why don’t you come up here with me, boy,” Raymond said. “We’ll get to know each other better.”

“No,” Jackson replied. “That’s okay.”

Raymond frowned and looked at Ricky. “Nice boy you’ve raised,” he remarked, and then pointed his rifle at Jackson. “I wasn’t asking.”

Jackson looked at Mark, who shook his head. Jackson couldn’t tell if Mark was telling him to follow orders or to ignore them, but having a gun aimed in his direction didn’t really give him any desire to be disobedient. He glanced at his father, who had paled over the last few moments. Maybe, Jackson thought, if he could keep Raymond distracted then his dad and Mark could get away. Maybe they could get past Luke. But then, the look on his father’s face was enough to tell Jackson that that wasn’t going to happen. His dad wasn’t going anywhere. There was something funny about that; the fact that he had to be in mortal danger to get the old man to stick around. Something about it made Jackson angry, and he found himself moving towards Raymond Tuan, now not only to avoid getting shot, but also in a blatant display of disobedience towards his father. He just wasn’t sure if it was worth it when Raymond Tuan threw an arm around his shoulders and pulled him against his side.

Walking stiffly, Jackson tried to ward off a sudden burst of nausea as they continued forward.

“Nice out here, isn’t it?” Raymond remarked, as if they were supposed to be on a peaceful nature walk. “I’ve been taking my own boys out here since the day they’ve been able to keep up. It’s good for fathers and sons to do things like that, don’t you think?”

Jackson found it in his best interest not to answer.

“I bet there was a time when you and your dad spent a lot of time together,” Raymond continued. “But that was a while back, wasn’t it? Now you don’t want to listen to him, do you? That’s disobedience, boy. A sin, you know. But, I’m sure you shouldn’t blame yourself, Jackson. ‘Cause it’s not your fault, is it?”

Jackson found himself glancing back at Ricky, wondering how he found the energy to be irritated with his father at a time like this.

“Why don’t you tell me what he did, Jackson. I know you don’t get along with him. But what did he do to make you so angry. You are angry, aren’t you?”

Jackson continued on in silence, but only until Raymond Tuan seemed to squeeze him harder. Something about it was smothering, warning Jackson that he couldn’t get away with allowing this conversation to pass him by, and that was an irritation in itself. Not only had Raymond Tuan kidnapped him, now he was forcing him to think about festering wounds that Jackson wasn’t yet willing to deal with, let alone during a crisis.

“Is there a reason why I shouldn’t be angry right now?” Jackson finally responded, causing Raymond Tuan to laugh out loud.

“Of course you’re angry right now, but we’re talking about the old man, Jackson,” Raymond responded, lifting a fist and rubbing his knuckles against the top of Jackson’s head in a way that caused him to wince.

“Hey,” Ricky said, “leave him alone!”

“Is that what you want Jackson?” Raymond asked. “D’you want me to leave you alone, or do you want him to leave you alone?”

“I want both of you to leave me alone!” Jackson snapped, and with no further regard for his current situation, he found himself furiously pulling away from Raymond Tuan until Raymond suddenly shook him, and Jackson found himself face to face with Mark’s father, the barrel of a rifle pointed at his chin. He stilled, his eyes intensely on his captor.

“It’s time to calm down, Jackson,” Raymond warned. “I’m just trying to help you here.”

“Go help someone else,” Jackson retorted.

“I would, but I think I’m better with solving father-son dilemmas,” Raymond said thoughtfully.

Jackson raised an eyebrow. “If this is an example of your credentials, it’s not that impressive.”

“Jackson,” Ricky warned, as if to say don’t antagonize the guy holding the gun.

“You stay out of this, Daddy,” Raymond growled, glaring at Ricky. But his warning only escalated the situation when Ricky took a threatening step forward, wanting nothing more than to separate his child from a threat. He was stopped short, though, when he found the rifle in Luke Tuan’s hands aimed in his direction.

“Don’t!” Jackson shouted, speaking to Luke this time. He looked at Raymond. “I’m angry, okay? Now just stop... please, just stop.”

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Raymond asked, giving Jackson a pat on the back that the boy visibly shied away from. “So let me ask you something, Jackson. Why are you so mad at your dad, huh? Your parents got divorced, did they? I bet your dad didn’t work hard enough to keep the family together. Keeping your own together’s important, you know.”

“Is that why you killed Mom?” Luke suddenly asked, drawing attention from everyone and a dirty look from Raymond. Luke seemed pleased with himself, but nonetheless, shrugged and added. “I don’t really miss her or anything, I just think it’s funny... you talking about togetherness and all.”

“You getting bored, son?” Raymond asked him irritably.

“A little,” Luke replied unapologetically. “But go on, maybe we’ll get this done sooner.”

“Look,” Ricky interrupted. “Why don’t you just tell us what you’re planning to do... better yet, just take us back home; no one has to know anything, I’ll take my family and...”

“Now you want your family back?” Raymond cut him off. “What do you think about that, Jackson? Kinda highhanded of him, ain’t it? I mean, the nerve of this man, right Jackson? First he leaves, now he wants you back? I’ll bet he’s already got that little sister of yours won over.”

“Don’t talk about Shayla,” Jackson snapped, his stomach knotting as he wondered where she was, and his temper flaring as he thought about his dad having lost track of her. Jackson knew it was a mistake the moment he divulged those feelings to his father with one look, but it was too late. Raymond Tuan had already seen it.

“Why don’t you just tell him, Jackson. Tell him you don’t want him anymore. I can see it in your face... this bastard had the nerve to hurt you and yours, and now he’s back to do it all over again, ain’t he?”

“That’s not true,” Ricky insisted, looking at Jackson as if he was losing him, but again, the look on Jackson’s face told him he might have already. “Look, just leave my son alone!”

“You don’t have a son anymore,” Raymond replied. “Ain’t that right, Jackson? Why don’t you tell your old man to get lost... then you and I can talk about things. What d’you say?”

Jackson stared at Raymond Tuan for a long moment, trying to understand the meaning behind his words before he gave a slow, careful, nod. “Okay,” Jackson said quietly. “I don’t want him here.”

“Because you’re angry,” Raymond said.

Jackson looked at Ricky. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I am.” And he meant every word.

“Good,” Raymond said gently. “Now you’ve just gotta show him, Jackson. Make it all better... I can help you do that.”

Jackson wasn’t sure when it happened, but suddenly Raymond Tuan was turning him, turning him to face his father, and there was something cold and hard beneath his hands. “What are you doing?” Jackson demanded, a panicked edge entering his voice as he looked down to see the rifle in his hands. “What are you doing?”

“Shh. Shh, Jackson,” Raymond insisted. “It’ll be okay. I just can’t do this for you.”

“Do what?” Jackson shouted, but the answer to his question came when he found himself with a gun aimed at his father.

***

 Lawrence Rizzo opened his eyes. He’d done that a few times before, too, but each time he’d considered keeping them open just damn inconvenient. This time was different, though. Perhaps he was slow to realize it, but Mr. Lawrence Rizzo was pretty sure that not all was right in the world. He was also pretty sure that when this was over, he’d be grounding a few members of the town’s youth himself, if he couldn’t get their parents to do it first, and at least one of them would be working off any damage to his truck.

He wanted to get up and saw how bad it was; of course, that would have been made easier if Lawrence Rizzo had actually been in his vehicle. But he seemed to be in someone else’s. Looking up out the back window, he found it difficult to conclude where exactly he was, too, but there seemed to be something wrong with the sky. It was glowing crimson, and dark clouds seemed to be covering the sky, swirling about in unnatural patterns. But then, he wasn’t seeing it right, because as Mr. Rizzo slowly pulled himself upright he realized that he wasn’t seeing clouds at all, but a mass of smoke beneath quickly growing flames spreading through a structure that looked an awful lot like the Wang house.

Fumbling for the door handle, Mr. Rizzo forced his way from the vehicle, catching himself on wobbly knees that didn’t feel as strong as they used to be and he stared up at the house, mouth agape and eyes wide before reflexes took over and his gaze drifted around him, taking in the family’s vehicles, the occasional fleeing cats, and most importantly, what he couldn’t see. He didn’t see the Wangs, and common sense would dictate that if Lawrence Rizzo could see a black cat disappearing into the woods fifteen feet away, then he’d likely see people fleeing a burning house, and anyone with the slightest bit of common sense would most definitely be retreating from the house in front of him.

But, what Mr. Rizzo didn’t know was that behind a narrow bathroom door jammed with a chair and barricaded with a heavy dresser full of keepsakes, Jeremy Bethard was trying very hard to get out as Sophia Wang shoved a wet towel against the crack at the bottom of the door to keep out the thick smoke that had recently assaulted them.

“Jeremy, get away from the door!” Sophia screamed as she went back to her daughter, but didn’t dare get between the adamant teenager and the wooden surface he insisted on assaulting. It had cracked in three places already, but unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be enough.

“It’s the only way out!” Jay retorted, coughing as he drew an arm over his mouth and nose, hoping to keep out the smoke that was already making him feel light-headed. He could hear Shayla crying, not the most encouraging of sounds, and as he turned to look at Jackson Wang’s family he found himself experiencing a strong sense of helplessness as he saw the look on Sophia’s face and silently agreed with what she was thinking. Even if he got the door down, there was a still a chance they wouldn’t get out. The thought made him nauseous, made him feel cornered. Sweat broke out over his face as once again he scanned the small room for another way out, all his hopes eventually moving back to the door.

“I don’t want to die in here,” he said decisively, and once again the side of his body felt the sting as it collided with the wood.

***

I don’t want to die out here. Jackson wasn’t sure where the thought came from, but he was certain that he needed to have it. Furthermore, he didn’t want to watch anyone else die out in the cold woods, either. And as he realized that those fears had been somewhere on hold in his mind since the moment they’d left the boat, he’d never once considered that he’d be the cause of any of it, and yet Raymond Tuan was forcing his shaking fingers into place, and there was nothing Jackson felt he could do to avoid it. One wrong move, he thought. That’s all it would take, and any number of things could go wrong. Things Jackson didn’t want to think about while he was the one aiming the gun at his father.

“What are you doing?” Jackson asked again, his lips seeming incapable of producing a more intelligent question. He didn’t even know who he was asking, what answer he expected. His eyes locked with Ricky’s, and Jackson felt himself go numb from head to toe.

It all felt so strange. Jackson Wang of all people knew how delicate a relationship between a father and son could be given the right circumstances. And this man, his father... just that morning Jackson had wanted nothing to do with him. He hadn