Rivers of the Dead - 4. 1-4 - The Truth

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The mirror taunted Caleb with his shirtless body, seeming to accent the stains of red on his skin. He knew he should clean them off, but he didn't have the motivation. It was Ethan's blood, his life force, and washing it off would make it seem like he was washing away the memory of what had happened. Tragic as it was, he wasn't prepared for that. The rain had let up as they'd waited for the paramedics to arrive at the park, and nature itself seemed to want him to bear the signs of the tragedy, at least for the time being.

An old man entered the hospital restroom and gave him a strange look. A small part of Caleb wanted to laugh, knowing he must look like a total mess, but he couldn't even manage a smile, nor even a twitch. He glanced down at his lower half, the part the mirror didn't reflect. His jeans were stained red, completely covered in the drying blood of his best friend. He realized he didn't need the blood on his skin to remind him of what had happened. There was plenty of evidence to go around.

He took a small handful of paper towels and began scrubbing away at his skin, removing the dry, crusty blood. It came away easily in the warm water, and he was soon done, ready to go back out to the waiting room and face everyone else. With one last look at his reflection, staring at eyes that were in danger of slipping into utter apathy, he finally walked back out of the restroom.

Liz was waiting for him, just finishing a phone call when he stepped up to greet her. She gave him a pain-filled glance, looking down at his pants and then back up to his face. Without saying anything, she stepped up and wrapped him in a hug. It was the first time he'd touched someone since Ethan, and the contact felt distant, even though there was only the thin layer of Liz's blouse between them. Blood coated her blouse, too, and the dry yet sticky cloth felt familiar.

When they pulled apart, Caleb could tell Liz wanted to talk, but he didn't want to talk about Ethan. Not yet. Not until there was word about Ethan's condition. "Hey, um . . . how's your . . . how's work?" He asked awkwardly.

"They told me not to worry about it," Liz said. "It's not . . . not like I'd be worried about that, anyway."

"Yeah . . ." Caleb said, walking around her and looking at the people in the waiting room. Most of them were foreign to him, since they were in the ER at Rocksburg General, almost thirty miles away from home, but one of them was incredibly familiar. Mrs. Pallet paced near the window, every so often glancing out into the evening sky. Caleb knew she didn't notice the sky, or the window, or even that she was in a hospital waiting room. She was elsewhere, in an operating room down the hall, waiting for the revelation that everything was going to be okay.

"How's Ethan's mom?" Caleb asked, despite his revelation. "She . . . I don't know what to say to her."

"We spoke, briefly. She wanted to know what had happened, so I gave her the details. I tried to keep it less . . . graphic," Liz replied. "How are you?"

Caleb shook his head and walked away, but Liz followed right after him. "I don't want to talk about it yet. I just want him to recover. That's it, okay?"

"Yeah, I understand," Liz said. "I'm not very good with silence . . . you know me."

Caleb nodded. "Yeah, I get it, maybe we could—" he turned as he saw Ethan's doctor coming their way. "Mrs. Pallet!" Caleb said, catching Ethan's mother's attention. She looked confused at first, then recognized Caleb and nodded before starting toward where the doctor waited for them.

To Caleb's surprise, Mrs. Pallet took his hand in hers and squeezed it for support. Mr. Pallet hadn't made it yet, Caleb realized, and he was the closest thing to family she had here. He squeezed her hand back and nodded resolutely, then turned to face the doctor.

"How is he, can we see him?" Mrs. Pallet asked.

"We did absolutely everything we could, ma'am. He . . . he didn't make it," the doctor said quietly. The words rang hollowly on Caleb's ears, and he was certain he'd misheard the statement. It wasn't until the doctor kept speaking that Caleb started to realize the doctor was being serious. "Your son died a few moments ago. He started seizing in the ambulance, and we didn't know why. We tried to rush the blood test to see if he'd taken anything, but we couldn't do it quick enough. He died before we had the answer."

Neither Mrs. Pallet or Caleb heard most of the words, and they shared a look of complete denial. She spoke first. "My son is dead? You're telling me my son is dead?"

Caleb was getting angrier by the moment, wondering why the doctor would confuse two different patients at a time like this. Ethan couldn't have died, not now. Fate couldn't be that cruel. "What?" He asked, shaking his head. He let go of Mrs. Pallet's hand and took a step toward the doctor. "No, we're talking about Ethan Pallet. How is Ethan? Can we see him?"

"Son, I'm sorry," the doctor continued patiently, "your friend—"

"No!" Caleb shouted, his hands clenching into fists. "That's not possible. We made it in time! We stopped the bleeding—"

"Ethan!" Mrs. Pallet wailed, collapsing to the floor. Liz tried to catch her but failed, and ended up awkwardly groping at her shoulders. Mrs. Pallet didn't notice, and continued to cry, tears of anger and despair streaming down her cheeks. "No! No, this can't be happening! No!"

Caleb looked from her and back to the doctor, his face contorted in fury. He wanted to punch the lying bastard in the face as hard as he could, to drive the truth out of him with his fist until he learned where Ethan was so he could go to him. "It's not true. It's not!" He shouted. He took another step forward, but Liz caught his wrist and held him fast.

"Caleb, stop," she said. He turned to her, to see her red eyes and running eyeshadow. He saw the blood on her blouse, the blood on her pants, the terror on her face. He wanted to deny it all, he wanted to fight, but his control was slipping.

"Liz, tell this doctor—" he tried in one last ditch effort to fight back reality.

"Caleb . . ." Liz pleaded. "He's gone. He's gone . . ." And then she collapsed into him and pulled him down with her. He fell to his knees as her arms wrapped around him, but he wasn't able to hug her back, not yet.

"No, Liz," he said, his arms hanging limp as his fists slowly came open. "No! I can't . . . I can't, not when I just . . . not now!"

"Ethan!" Mrs. Pallet wailed, "I need to see my son, I need to see my son!"

"I'm sorry," the doctor said, reaching out to place a consoling hand on her shoulder. "We'll let you see him shortly. Hopefully we'll have some answers for you."

"Answers?" Caleb heard Liz ask.

"I don't think the blood loss killed him, but I'm not sure yet. I think he took something," the doctor explained.

But Caleb no longer listened to the doctor. Reality had finally found its home within his soul, and one by one his senses were failing him. He wrapped his arms around Liz as sight faded, and he latched onto the fleeting images of the boy he loved. The last sense to fail him was touch, as the ghost of their first and last kisses danced across his lips like a haunting memory. "Ethan . . ." he mumbled, caressing the memory of him with his tongue one last time, "my sweet Ethan . . ."

Don't forget to comment and react to this chapter! Also, special thanks to my Patreon Supporters: Michael, Bill, Charles, Amr, Don, James, Joe, Jos, Mark, Mark, Paul, and Steve. Couldn't have done it without them. Ask me how you can help and get access to chapters early!