After he tied the tourniquet with his good hand and his teeth, he placed one large square of gauze on the wound and then another before wrapping the tape around his arm on each end.
I held out a can of antibiotic spray. “Do you need this before you tape it?” I asked.
He looked up at me, hopelessness in his eyes. “It won’t do any good.” He stood up and looked at Halle and me. “I’m so sorry, girls.” His eyes filled with tears. “I’m so, so sorry.”
We hugged Dad again—this time, with no understanding and no peace. We were all sobbing.
Dad sat down and leaned back against the tree. “I’m going to rest for five minutes.”
“Halle, give him the water,” I said.
The anger had gone away, leaving only an empty ache mixed with fear. I thought about how Tavia had leaned over her brother’s body and how that scene hadn’t been anything like what I was feeling. I thought about Connor and how he existed every day with emptiness in his eyes. I always believed he was just suffering unbearable sadness that he couldn’t describe with words, but sad was wrong. Sad was a common term, and this was very specific. It was unique only to those who had been unlucky enough to experience it, yet it was different for everyone. Dad would run into burning buildings for a living. He would bring people back to life. He was invincible. But there he sat, next to a tree, mentally preparing to die, to leave his young daughters alone. He didn’t say it, but I could see the torture within him, swirling in his eyes.
“We’d better go,” he said. I reached to help him to his feet. “I don’t know how long I have.”
“Back to Shallot?” I asked.
“I’m sorry, Jenna. I really am,” he said, his voice breaking.
“Whatever you want to do. Let’s just get you somewhere to rest,” I said.
“C’mon, Pop Can,” Dad said, reaching out for Halle.
My bottom lip quivered, and I supported his every step, slow but steady, all the way back to where we’d started. With each step, the guilt bore down on me. It was heavier than Dad. He’d had a bad feeling. It wasn’t because of a deadline or even that Mom wasn’t going to be there when we arrived. He’d felt his last day coming, and I’d pushed him into it.
Once in a while, he would groan at the pain in his arm, and it spread to his wrist and shoulder. Then, the headache began. By the time we got back to the dark green two-story house that had been our home for the past month, Dad was pale and soaked in sweat.
I helped him up the stairs of the back porch and into the living room where he collapsed onto the couch.
I looked at Halle. “I’m going to check the house first. You stay here.”
Checking each room, behind every door and inside every closet, I made certain the house was clear, and the windows were still secure. I couldn’t take care of Dad and worry about what might sneak up on us.
I ran into the bathroom and ran cold water onto a washcloth. I tried not to cry, whispering to myself to be strong. He was going to die, but I could make it easier on everyone if I kept it together. I looked up at the dusty mirror. My hairline was wet with sweat, my face pink from the sun. My clothes were filthy, my eyes sunken and dim.
This was not like the video games. We didn’t get to start over.
I went into the living room. I knelt next to the couch and propped Dad’s head with a pillow. He sucked in air through his teeth, making a hissing noise.
“Everything hurts?” I asked.
“Like the worst flu in the history of ever,” he said with a weak smile.
I wiped his face with the rag and then folded it before gently laying it across his forehead. “This is bad,” I whispered in a brittle small voice. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Yes, you do. Jenna, listen to me. We’ve planned for this. I had the flu shot. I’m going to go downhill fast.” His stomach and chest heaved once, and then he swallowed.
“Go get a bowl,” I said to Halle.
“But—” she began.
“Now!”
“Jenna,” Dad said, “keep the gun on you until I quit breathing.”
I shook my head. “I don’t wanna do this. Please don’t make me.”
“Don’t wait. Don’t even say good-bye. Have Halle go into the other room, and take care of it.”
I pursed my lips, trying to hold in the sob. My vision blurred with tears. I was going to have to shoot my dad. What kind of world was this? Nothing could have prepared me for that conversation and definitely not for the act itself.
“Daddy…”
He furrowed his brow, and then pulled me against his chest. “I’m sorry you have to do this,” he said, his voice breaking. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too,” I said through faltering breath. “I love you, too.”
He let me go. “Promise me, you’ll take care of your sister, no matter what.”
“I promise,” I said, wiping his face again.
Halle returned with a large bowl, her cheeks wet and red. When she saw my expression, her lip jutted out and trembled.
He pulled his mouth to the side, regret in his eyes. “Jenna, you’re smart. You’re smarter than me, and it’s going to save you and your sister more than once. Trust your instincts. Use your head, not your heart.” He grabbed the bowl and heaved into it, expelling the contents of his stomach, which wasn’t much. He leaned back against the couch, his face a sallow color. The veins beneath his skin were beginning to darken.
“I don’t want you to die, Daddy,” Halle said, sucking in breaths.
He pulled her in. “It’s going to be okay, Pop Can. You’re going to be okay. You’re so strong. You’re both so strong. I trust your sister to take care of you. You have to trust her, too.”
“Okay,” she said, sniffing and nodding against his chest. He let her go, and she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I want you to be okay though. Please be okay.”
Dad’s bottom lip pulled up. “I can’t. I wish I could. I’m sorry.” He swallowed and then vomited again.
It was happening fast. I had the strangest sensation come over me. I didn’t want him to leave us, but I was desperate for his suffering to end.
“Don’t get in a hurry to leave,” Dad said. “Don’t make emotional decisions. Think about things first—for several days, if you have to. When you think you have it all figured out, think on it some more. And get a good feel for the neighbor before you talk to him. Take a gun, but don’t let him know you have one. Teach Halle how to protect herself.” He looked up. “I’m forgetting something. I need to tell you everything. I should have taught you how to drive a car, how to—” His stomach lurched, and he groaned as he threw up into the bowl again.