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He was driving fast. Too fast. But this was a literal life or death situation and there was no time to obey traffic laws. Thank god it was the middle of the night.
He’d been driving for over an hour, and he knew he should try to put a bit more distance between them and the mercenary massacre they just left, but 032 was running out of time.
006 glanced in the rear view mirror at his brother sprawled across the back seat. His breaths were slow and shallow and his already pale skin was sheet white. He had lost so much blood. He knew because it was plastered all over 032’s clothes and skin. 006 clenched his teeth and focused on the road again.
In the distance he could see a town coming into view. He slowed down a bit, if only to be able to see what he was looking for. His eyes scanned the buildings as they breezed through until he spotted it. He slammed on the brakes and veered into the parking lot of a corner store with a pharmacy, grimacing when he heard 032 flop to the floor between the seats.
“Shit. Sorry man,” he whispered shakily as he threw the car in park and turned off the engine. He opened the back door and lifted his little brother up off the floor, placing him back on the seat before locking the doors and running towards the building.
It was easy to get in. A quick scaling of the building, rooftop hatch accessway, and two locks to pick. Easy. There were cameras, sure, but he spotted them clearly and could avoid most of them. The two in the room he needed were quick to take out with a silenced pistol.
006 made quick work of collecting the supplies he needed. A couple saline bags, syringes and needles. Tubing and wraps. Alcohol, bandages, antibiotics, painkillers and a rebreather, just in case. He threw everything in a plastic grocery bag he found by the registers and slipped through the window into the store. He grabbed some snack items and water, then made his way back out the way he came in.
They made their way back out of the town until he spotted an abandoned barn and parked around back, out of view of the road. He quickly collected the bag and his dying kid brother in his arms and rushed them into the dilapidated building. There was a pile of musty hay that looked as good a place as any to play doctor and he laid 032 down gently before reaching into the bag to remove his supplies.
He striped 032’s jacket, shirt and pants off and assessed his wounds. Stab wound to the stomach. Gash on his arm, forehead. Three gunshot wounds; two in the leg, one in the arm. All in and out. Bruising up and down his sides, neck and face. Jesus. This was bad.
The stab wound was the part he worried about the most. It had stopped bleeding for the most part, plugged up by dried blood that was clearly days old. His eyebrows cinched as he reached for the alcohol and towels and started cleaning around the clearing festering wound. It didn’t seem like the knife had hit anything too important, given that his brother was still alive, but infection and blood loss were a huge concern at the moment. It pained him that 032 didn’t even react when he poured the alcohol straight on the hole.
Once the stab wound was properly bandaged, he took out a couple needles and sanitized them with the lighter in his pocket before attaching them to a bag and a plastic tube. After a quick swab of an alcohol pad, he found a vein in his own arm and began filling the bag. They were brothers, so they could share blood, right? Shit, he hoped so…
He filled the bag until he started feeling light-headed, then ripped the needle out, not bothering to cover the pinprick. Another needle, another swab, and a few pokes later and he watched the bag slowly empty into 032’s arm. He set it higher on the hay pile to let gravity take over, hoping he did all that right.
In the dim lighting from the moon coming in through the holes in the ceiling, he could see the bluish tint to his brother’s lips. He grabbed at the rebreather and fitted it to 032’s face, giving it a few pumps. This was so bad. The worst he had seen, now that he thought of it. Usually when someone was this hurt, the best way to treat them was with a bullet between their eyes. He pumped a few more times, then set to work cleaning and patching the rest of his wounds.
It took almost an hour to properly clean and sew and bandage 032’s broken body, and given that he was down almost two liters of blood, 006 was grateful when it was over. He was dizzy, hungry, cold and dirty. Not to mention: absolutely terrified. He let out a harsh breath as he collapsed next to 032 on the hay pile.
006 wanted to sleep, but he knew that was the blood loss talking. Come to think of it, when was the last time he slept? Oh. It’d been a couple days. He sighed softly and glanced over at his brother. The bag was almost empty, and he found himself relieved that his body was pulling it through his veins.
006 sat up slowly and took out a few items of food he had grabbed at the store. He wolfed the granola bars and snack cakes down quickly before emptying a bottle of water. He felt a bit better. Less dizzy. He picked up the breather again and pumped a few more lungs-full of oxygen into 032. He watched his brother’s chest when he took it away, letting out his own deep breath when he saw it rise and fall with more vigor.
He set the contraption down on the floor and stood to assess his current lodgings. The building was falling apart, but would certainly hold up for as long as they needed to stay here. He rummaged through the abandoned crates and cupboards, looting the old building for items that might make their stay more comfortable. He was lucky enough to find a moth-bitten wool blanket, which he batted a few spiders off of before draping it across 032’s battered body.
006 sprawled out next to 032. He looked so young. Hell, he was young. They both were. Being on his own, away from the tyranny of the camp for the past few weeks had really made that fact sink in.
He sighed and curled up next to his brother, conceding he had done all he could do for now. The night was quiet. There were a few crickets chirping in the distance, but it was cold and their songs were slow and melancholy. He stared up at the stars peeking through the collapsing roof.
“You remember that time dad took us camping?” he began, needing something to fill the silence. “There were so many stars that night. We hadn’t ever seen that many, because we lived in the city. There were crickets like this too, but there were more, and they were so loud. It took me forever to fall asleep because of those damn crickets, heh.”
006 glanced over at his brother and watched his rib cage heaving slowly. He turned back to the sky.
“I remember complaining to dad about the crickets being too loud, and the ground being too hard to sleep on. The smoke from the campfire bothering my eyes. How cold it was in the morning, even though it was the middle of July. I was such a little bitch when I was eight, psh. It was still fun, though. I liked swimming in that river, and all the frogs and tadpoles, and the s’mores and the hot dogs. Dad was so good at hot dogs. He would burn ‘em juuust right.” He smirked, then let his face fall into a frown.
“I miss mom and dad. I barely remember them anymore, and that sucks.”
His voice cracked on the last word and he cleared the lump from his throat.
“We’re gonna figure this shit out, man. We’re gonna fucking LIVE from now on, not just survive. Gonna take care of each other. I promise.”
006 reached over and grabbed 032’s wrist and gave it a squeeze, leaving a finger draped over his pulse, then closed his eyes and relaxed against the damp hay. The sound of the sad crickets and the labored breathing of his brother next to him became a lullaby, and before he knew it, he had fallen asleep.
He woke to the sound of coughing. 006 sat up quickly and turned to face his brother. His bruised face was scrunched, his mouth contorted in pain, but it was clear he was awake. It was just past sunrise, and the morning sun revealed a more colorful hue to his pallet. 032 blinked open one eye and swallowed thickly before speaking.
“00- COUGHCOUGHCOUGH!”
“Hey, take it easy, Caleb. Here, have some water.”
006 reached for another bottle of water before putting a hand on his brother’s back to prop him up and bringing the bottle to his mouth. 032 drank it greedily. Too greedily it seemed, as he hacked again, rolling forward, causing him to hiss in pain. 006 pulled him back down against the hay.
“Slowly! You’ve been half dead for two or three days. Take it easy!” 032 blinked back at him.
“—the fuck did you call me?”
“Your name, dumbass.”
“My…” 032 sat up a bit and grabbed at his head, hissing again as he reached for his side. He looked down and pulled the blanket away, taking in the bandages, and the fact that he was nearly naked. He threw the blanket back over him and glared at his brother. A sunbeam caught his eye and he blinked and turned away, finally taking in his surroundings.
“Wh-where are we?” he rasped out.
“In a barn about 4 klicks outside of some little town.”
“Why?”
“Because you were dying and I needed to get you treatment as soon as possible.”
You could see the lightbulb go off in 032’s head when he remembered what he had endured the past few days. He gave 006 a look of grief and confusion before speaking.
“How did you find me? H-how did you get me out?”
“The hell do you mean, ‘how did I find you?’ Finding people is my specialty, Caleb, come on.”
032 furrowed his brow in anger. “Why do you keep calling me that?”
“Because that’s your name, idiot.”
“I know that, but you haven’t called me that in ten years! Why are you suddenly calling me that?”
“Because 032 is dead. And so is 006 for that matter.”
032 stared at his brother for a moment, his eyebrows knitted, before moving his gaze to his lap. “How did you get me out?”
“Had some help.”
“Who?”
“001.”
“What?!”
“And 004, technically…”
“WHAT?! COUGHCOUGHCOUGHCOUGH!”
006 chuckled and handed his brother the water bottle. 032 grabbed at it and brought it to his mouth, slower this time. “I’ll explain more later. You hungry? Think you can eat?” the older brother began, turning towards the grocery bag. He pulled out a couple energy bars and another bottle of water and opened all three, handing a bar to his brother as he settled in against the hay pile. 032 took it and nibbled slowly, leaning back as well.
They ate silently, watching the clouds float by, bathed in orange and pink and gold. When 032 had finished his bar and polished off the bottle of water, he turned to face his brother.
“Am I supposed to call you ‘Liam’ now?”
“Call me what you want, man.”
032 rolled his eyes and focused back on the morning sky. He followed a flock of birds between the ceiling cracks as they flew by. When they had left his view, he turned back to his brother, noticing the thin stream of blood dried to his arm. He pointed at it as he said, “you’re bleeding.” 006 looked down at his arm and shrugged. “I was. It stopped. It was just from the needle.”
“Needle?”
“From when I took my blood out.”
“…why did you take your blood out?”
“To put it in you. You lost too much, so I gave you some of mine.”
032 just stared back, his eyes wide, his mouth agape. He turned to look at his own arm and saw a wrap around his elbow.
“Why—why did you go through this much trouble. It would have been smarter to just leave me there. I was as good as dead anyway. You could have been killed.”
006 rolled his head to face his brother. “Because we’re family. There’s not much I wouldn’t do for you, kid.” When he finished his thought he turned back to the morning sky, now pearly blue and speckled with clouds.
032’s breath hitched and his throat tightened. He looked around and saw the blood bag and the tube lying on the ground, as well as dozens of bloody rags and wraps and a bag of medical supplies. He looked hard at his brother, tears forming in his ducts. A small sniffle escaped his face before he realized it was there and he froze when he felt 006’s arm gingerly wrap itself around him and pull him to his chest. He hesitated for a moment before leaning into his brother’s embrace, and felt all his muscles melt when he felt fingers running through his hair.
“We’re gonna be ok,” 006 began. “I don’t have a plan yet, but I’m gonna think of one, and I’m gonna take care of you, and—and we’re gonna be ok. I promise.”
032 gripped his shirt and nodded into his chest. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes. “We’re gonna take care of each other…” he murmured before he let sleep take him once more.