FFJ - 29 - Bobby Miller

Bobby Miller was a good man. The honest, hardworking sort. He sweltered in the farm day in and day out knowing it was futile. There were enough potatoes to get the village by for another season with their delicate herd of cattle. But what was another year? The end point was defined. Westfield was dying along with the rest of the villages. It was a slow death, measured in decades not years. Bobby went on anyway, as most of us did. It didn’t do any good to sit around and wait for it to come. He busied himself as we all rode this damnable ride to its end. 

So, it surprised me when Bobby held me at the end of a well-kept rifle. It was a beautiful thing, one of the few left in our region. Black barrel and with a polished walnut stock. It didn’t surprise me so much that Bobby had one. He was a private man, the type that could keep such an heirloom secret for so long. He had developed a tremor over the years, but it lay dormant now. The oiled barrel pointed steady at my chest. 

“Tell me it's not true.”

“I can’t.” 

He lowered it for a moment as he shook his head. I considered making a grab for it, but I couldn’t out wrestle Bobby. He was twice my size, tall and wide.

“You’re going to them?” 

“I am.”

Bobby chambered a round, sliding the bolt home. His face had gone placid. No furrow or frown wrinkled his features more than they already were. His hairline had all but faded to the back of his splotched head. Sweat beads dripped into grey eyebrows far past the need for a trim. I sure didn’t have the physicality to go running and weaving hoping he missed. He couldn’t see as well as he used to, none of us could, but I doubted he’d miss a slow moving target a few paces out.

“Bobby, let me go.”

“I can’t.”

I stepped forward, but he raised the rifle in front of my face. “Why?” I asked. 

“They’ll kill you.”

“And you won’t?”

“They take your soul. I won’t do that.”

“What would you have me do, then?"

“Go back home.”

“To die, Bobby? There’s barely any of us left. I don’t care what they take. I don’t want to die out here without trying.”

“We die human. We don’t become them. I won’t let you go and become one of them. I won’t.”

“Then I’ll let you make that choice. I’ve made mine.” I turned and walked away.