Five Survive

by Holly Jackson

Simon had always been able to get away with anything, he was too funny, too quick with it. You couldn’t stay mad at him.

A small kindness he never knew he’d given her. She should give him one back.

She was kind and caring, and she always knew just how to help her. And, most importantly, she always cut sandwiches into triangles.

And was Red imagining it, or did his voice sometimes soften for her? No, he was just nice to everybody.

As far as Red knew, they were just awkwardly flirting, neither of them very good at it, and in a few months he’d move on with his life, like everyone else.

“Sure, just a misunderstanding. There’s a sniper out there with a high-powered rifle and a laser sight who’s decided to use us as target practice. But yeah, just a misunderstanding.”

“Unless someone also happened to pack a rifle for spring break and we can snipe him back.”

“Yeah, that sniper won’t know what’s hit him when I slowly charge at him with my Gillette razor.”

“We are getting out of this alive,” she said, “you and me.” Always you and me with them, since before they could walk and talk and think.

a pair of scissors, a lighter, a headlamp, a flashlight, spare batteries, a hammer, a screwdriver, duct tape, Scotch tape, vodka and a kitchen knife.

“What if I said you were the right people, in the right place at exactly the right time.”

“Oliver Charles Lavoy. “Madeline Joy Lavoy. “Reyna Flores-Serrano. “Arthur Grant Moore. “Simon Jinsun Yoo. “Redford Kenny.”

Even on her worst day, Red didn’t look like a closet door with stick mop-arms and a giant beach ball head.

“Would you think closet-beach-ball-mop-man was real if you saw him out and about?”

“Want to know a secret?” Arthur said, his voice dipping into whispers, eyes flashing from behind his glasses. “I think you’re smarter.”

Delegate. Motivate. Celebrate. All the qualities of a natural leader,

Save our souls. Save us. Please save us.

That was when Red knew for certain that she and Oliver Lavoy did not live in the same world. She could never hear a helicopter and think it was sent for her. No one loved her enough for that.

Seemed he recognized that Oliver was the natural leader here. How could you not, with that straight back and those fierce golden eyes?

It was strange, hearing her name like that, forgetting that it belonged to her, that it wasn’t just a misplaced splash of color.

“It’s me,” she said, framing each word carefully, choosing the right ones. “I’m the witness.” She paused. “The protected witness, in the Frank Gotti case.”

“YES to leave, NO to stay.” NO to live, YES to die.

They couldn’t have voted for her to die, could they? These were her friends.

She wasn’t fine but she was alive and, really, how was that much different from the rest of her life?

Red wasn’t sure now if Maddy was more scared of the man out there with the rifle, or of that look in her brother’s eyes.

Not rock paper scissors, but scissors knife rifle. Scissors lost every time in that game.

Red once thought Oliver looked at her like a spare sister. She’d been wrong about the second word, though, the one that mattered.

Maddy Lavoy couldn’t die. That couldn’t happen. Red couldn’t let it.

One sniper. One gun. One red dot. And one liar. This whole time.

“My name is Arthur,” he said, pausing, eyes flicking to Red, latching on. “Arthur Gotti.”

Guilty if she did, guilty if she didn’t. A betrayal either way.

It was Catherine Lavoy. Catherine Lavoy murdered her mom.

All of them changed, by this RV, by each other.

She wasn’t thinking about last words, she was thinking about all the words, all the memories. It was love; thorny and complicated and sad and happy. But it was a red feeling too.

I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to protect you. I’m sorry I never got to tell you. I’m sorry I never kissed you.

It should have ended with you and me.

His whole life has been a war, that does something to your head, I think. It’s done something to my head.

I guess none of us—the five that survived—will ever be the same after that long night.