The one lost in the wind

The Incident (chapter 1) remastered

Zack breathed a shaky sigh of relief as he stared down at what he had done.

For the past two years, he and his little brother, Jamie, had endured their stepmother's abuse. Ever since their mother's death and their father's remarriage, home had stopped feeling like home. Their father was constantly away on business trips, leaving the boys alone with a woman who seemed to hate them more with every passing day.

Tonight, something had finally snapped.

The fire extinguisher was still clutched tightly in Zack's trembling hands. He had struck his stepmother over the head with it during another argument, but now the anger that had fueled him was gone. All that remained was fear.

She lay motionless on the floor.

Blood slowly pooled beneath her.

"Oh God..." Zack whispered.

He dropped the extinguisher and immediately fell to his knees beside her. With shaking fingers, he checked for a pulse.

Nothing.

He checked again.

Still nothing.

His heart pounded violently in his chest.

Then—

Creeeak.

Zack froze.

He slowly turned toward the doorway.

Jamie stood there.

The seven-year-old boy was clutching his teddy bear against his chest, his eyes wide with terror. He looked frightened, but beneath that fear was something Zack recognized immediately.

Relief.

Jamie had seen everything.

"Jamie..." Zack whispered.

His little brother didn't answer.

For several seconds, neither of them moved.

Then Zack stood up.

"We have to clean this up."

Jamie looked at him in disbelief.

"What?"

"We have to clean it up before Dad gets home."

Their father was supposed to return from his business trip in two days.

Two days.

Zack couldn't even imagine what would happen if their father came home and found her like this.

"Jamie, get some napkins. And bleach."

Jamie hesitated.

"Now!"

Jamie flinched before running into the kitchen. Zack closed his eyes for a moment, trying to steady his breathing.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

He hadn't planned it.

He hadn't wanted to kill her.

He had only wanted her to stop.

But now she was dead.

And there was no taking it back.

───

They spent the rest of the night trying to erase what had happened.

Neither boy spoke much.

They worked in silence, cleaning what they could and trying desperately to make the house look normal again. Eventually, under the cover of darkness, they buried her in a secluded patch of ground.

By the time they returned to the house, it was nearly one in the morning.

The living room was completely silent.

Zack and Jamie sat beside each other on the couch, staring at the floor.

Neither one made eye contact.

Neither knew what to say.

Then Jamie's face crumpled.

A sob escaped him.

Zack looked over.

"I'm sorry," Zack whispered.

That was all it took.

Both boys broke down.

Jamie buried his face against Zack's chest, still holding his teddy bear between them. Zack wrapped his arms around his little brother as tightly as he could.

They cried until there were no tears left.

Eventually, exhaustion won.

They fell asleep on the couch, still holding onto each other.

───

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains as Zack slowly opened his eyes.

For a moment, everything seemed normal.

Then he remembered.

His stomach twisted.

He looked over at Jamie, who was still asleep.

Zack carefully stood and walked into the kitchen.

He began making breakfast.

Eggs.

Toast.

Whatever he could prepare without making too much noise.

The smell of food eventually woke Jamie.

The two boys ate together at the kitchen table.

Neither of them mentioned the previous night.

Then Zack's phone buzzed.

Dad.

Zack stared at the screen.

His father had called their stepmother's phone first.

They had ignored it.

Now he was texting Zack.

Dad: Good morning.

Zack swallowed.

Zack: Good morning.

A few seconds passed.

Dad: Is your mom okay?

Zack's fingers hovered over the keyboard.

He knew he was lying.

Zack: She's fine.

Another message appeared.

Zack: She said she was a little under the weather and was sleeping in.

Dad: Tell her to get better for me.

Zack: Alright.

Dad: Remember, I'm coming back tomorrow.

Dad: Bye.

Zack: Bye.

Zack put his phone down.

Jamie stared at him.

"Does Dad know?"

"No."

"But he's coming tomorrow."

"I know."

Zack looked toward the hallway.

They couldn't stay.

Not anymore.

───

After breakfast, Zack sat across from Jamie.

"Jamie, we might not be able to stay here anymore."

Jamie frowned.

"Why?"

"If Dad finds out what happened..."

Zack stopped.

He couldn't bring himself to say the rest.

"We might have to skip town."

"Where?"

"Our aunt's house."

Jamie blinked.

"In Norway?"

Zack nodded.

"Yeah."

Jamie looked horrified.

"Norway is miles away from Colorado."

"I know."

"We don't have money."

"Don't worry about that. I saved some."

"How much?"

Zack went upstairs and pulled an old box out from beneath his bed.

Inside were envelopes filled with cash.

He had been saving money from summer jobs since he was fourteen.

He counted it carefully.

"Two thousand..." Zack muttered.

He counted again.

"$2,000-something."

Jamie looked at his older brother.

"That's not enough to get to Norway."

"I know."

Zack glanced toward Jamie's piggy bank.

Jamie immediately shook his head.

"No."

"Jamie..."

"No."

"We need the money."

"But that's my money!"

"We can put it back someday."

Jamie crossed his arms.

"I don't wanna break my piggy bank."

"You don't have a choice."

Jamie grumbled as he grabbed a hammer.

SMASH!

Zack jumped.

"Jamie! You scared me!"

Jamie looked at the broken piggy bank.

"You told me to break into it."

Zack sighed.

"Right."

They counted the money together.

Coins.

Bills.

Everything Jamie had saved.

When they finished, they had $3,467 between them.

It wasn't much.

But it was everything they had.

───

By evening, the house looked strangely different.

Not because anything had changed.

Because Zack knew they were leaving.

He packed clothes into a backpack and added whatever useful things he could find.

Jamie packed his own bag.

His teddy bear went in first.

Then a few clothes.

A small flashlight.

Some snacks.

Finally, Jamie found an old family photograph.

It showed the four of them together back when their mother was still alive.

Their mother was smiling.

Their father had an arm around her.

Zack and Jamie stood in front of them, much younger and happier.

Jamie stared at the picture for a long time.

"I'm taking this."

Zack nodded.

"Yeah."

They also found the piece of paper with their aunt's address written on it.

Zack folded it carefully and put it into his pocket.

As the evening grew darker, Zack walked around the house one last time.

The pantry was next.

"We need food," he said.

They filled their bags with snacks, bottled drinks, canned food, and anything else that could survive the trip.

Then Zack found the old walkie-talkies.

"Pass me those."

Jamie handed them over.

Zack stuffed them into his bag.

Jamie looked at him.

"Will we ever get to talk to Dad again?"

His voice cracked.

Zack stopped packing.

He didn't have an answer.

"Maybe not."

Jamie looked down.

"But he's still our dad."

"I know."

Jamie started crying.

Zack sighed and pulled him into a hug.

"I know."

For a moment, Zack almost changed his mind.

Maybe they could stay.

Maybe they could tell their father everything.

Maybe he'd understand.

Then Zack remembered all the times they had tried to tell him about the abuse.

All the times they had asked for help.

And all the times their father had ignored them.

Zack's jaw tightened.

"We have to go."

───

Before leaving, Zack sat down at the kitchen table.

He took out a piece of paper and a pen.

He stared at the blank page for several seconds.

Then he began writing.

Dear Dad,

We're running away. It's not your fault.

Zack stopped.

His eyes burned.

There was so much more he wanted to say.

But he couldn't.

He folded the paper and left it on the table.

Jamie was crying again.

"Shh," Zack whispered. "Come on. We have to go."

Jamie wiped his eyes.

Zack grabbed their bags.

They stepped outside.

The cool night air hit them immediately.

Zack locked the front door and stood there for a moment, staring at the house.

This had been their home.

But it didn't feel like one anymore.

"Thank God Dad taught me how to drive," Zack muttered.

They climbed into the car.

Jamie buckled his seat belt and held his teddy bear tightly against his chest.

Zack put the key into the ignition.

The engine roared to life.

He looked at his little brother.

"You ready?"

Jamie nodded.

Zack pulled out of the driveway.

Neither boy looked back.

The house disappeared behind them as they drove down the dark Colorado road.

For the first time in years, they were on their own.

Zack gripped the steering wheel tightly.

They had no real plan.

They had barely enough money.

They were two brothers running from everything they had ever known.

And they had a very long way to go.

Zack glanced at the road sign ahead.

DENVER — 12 MILES.

He took a deep breath.

"First order of business," he said quietly, "we need to get out of Colorado."

Jamie looked out the window.

"Then what?"

Zack stared at the road stretching endlessly into the darkness.

"I don't know."

The car disappeared into the night.