“Oh my god, my babies!” Viola shrieked, throwing herself through the door frame. I ripped my tee back over my head and dragged myself after her as fast as I could manage, but she was already halfway across the forecourt by the time I got out of the door. She was heading full speed at the creature that was scrabbling at the car in a deranged manner.
“Viola, wait!” I called desperately, but she ignored me. Fighting through the haze of alcohol and shock, I took off after her in an unsteady run. Viola gave her daughters’ attacker no mercy as she flew into him, knocking him to the floor. I caught up just in time to throw her the knife from my waist, which she caught expertly and then - without hesitation - brought it down into the man’s chest. He howled as she stabbed him repeatedly, his wailing matched only by that coming from the girls in the car. I looked on in horror as Viola’s protective parent side took a life. The man’s cries transitioned into gurgled moaning, bubbling as the blood seeped into his lungs. Viola slumped back against the car, hard lines marking her face with disbelief.
My voice came out in a croak, “Vi?”
It didn’t register with her. She was breathing hard, staring at the blood enrobed knife in her hands. I looked into the car at the screaming children who had just witnessed the entire scene. I sighed, rubbing my temples with my fingertips.
“Vi, get up. Go to your girls,” I said, sternly, rousing her from her trance. She looked up at me, her face pale and her eyes haunted.
“I just killed someone,” she stuttered, turning the knife over in her hands. “I just killed someone, Mar.”
I racked my brain for comforting words, but all I could come up with was, “I know.”
I knelt down at her side and prised the knife from her hands.
“Viola, your children need you. Focus on them right now, and worry about this later,” I persuaded, giving her a nudge to try and get her up. Her face crumpled and she pointed to the lifeless body lying next to her, blooding seeping out into the sandy ground.
“I did that,” she enunciated, spitting the words out.
“Yes, you did; and your kids watched every second of it, so go and tend to them,” I replied, firmly. A million emotions flashed over her face before she pulled herself to her feet. She jerked her head sharply to look at me.
“Put pressure on your goddamn wound,” she snapped, turning on her heel and stalking around to the car. I looked down at my wrist, and pressed my hand against the now-crimson bandage.

When I pulled open the car door a few minutes later, Viola was talking in a calm manner to Hallie and Esther, who were still sniffing as they listened.
“Sometimes Mommies have to do things for their babies, okay? And that was something that Mommy had to do. That man was dangerous. He wanted to hurt you and I had to protect you. I know things are scary right now, and you two are being so, so brave for me. I love you both with all my heart and I will do anything I have to do to keep you safe. Now, we’re going to drive away from here, and we’re all going to stay together. We'll be ok,” she comforted, reaching back to stroke each girl’s hair in turn.
“Auntie Marina will keep you safe as well, I promise,” I added on as I climbed into the passenger seat, giving Viola a supportive nod. She gave me a faint smile before turning back in her seat to face me properly.
“Let me see,” she urged, gently pulling my arm towards her. She unwrapped the blood soaked bandage with a frown and slid the gauze off. Replacing it with a fresh one, she wound a clean bandage around it tightly and tied it off. “Keep on pressing on it. Don’t you dare bleed to death on me.”
“I’ll try not to,” I conceded, following her orders as she fired the car into life.
“Oh, crap. We never got gas,” she groaned, pointing out the gauge before muttering curses under her breath. She sat back in her chair, and closed her eyes in frustration like I’d seen her do so many times when Esther was being infuriatingly toddler-ish.
“Do we have a hose or something?” I asked, trying to put together a plan.
“Do we have a hose?” She repeated back to me, incredulously. “Of course we don’t have a hose, unless you made a stop at my non-existent garden shed on the way to the car?”
“Just trying to be helpful,” I grumbled, swatting a hand at her. “We have to get gas somehow, right?”
“Yes, Marina, we do,” she replied in a weary tone.
I scowled at her and hissed, “Can you not talk to me like I’m one of your children?”
“Can you put pressure on your damn cut?” she retorted. I groaned in exasperation and turned away from her to look out the window, putting my hand back on my bandage. We sat in awkward silence for a moment, while Hallie and Esther looked on, unsure of what had just transpired.
Viola gritted her teeth, “I’m sorry.”
I thought about sassing her but decided against it. We had all the time in the world for the bickering sibling routine, but right now we needed to solve the issue at hand.
“Me too,” I replied, casting her an apologetic look. She squeezed my free hand.
“Okay, so let’s figure out what to do,” she smiled, faintly.
“We need gas, maybe we can find a hose or something from a nearby house and break into the pumps? Either that or we’re ditching the car,” I shrugged.
“We are not ditching the car,” Viola shuddered, “it’s our only security right now. Imagine what could have just happened to the girls without it.”
“So we find a hose or a pipe of something. Any kind of tube,” I replied, looking around. “Hey, we could cut the hose of the actual pump?”
Viola’s brow furrowed for a second, “That could work, I guess.”
“Might as well try,” I pressed, “You got a better idea?”
She shrugged and checked the mirrors before getting out of the car. I followed, making sure the kids were locked in safely behind me.

I stepped over the quickly spreading pool of blood as Viola eyed the lifeless body on the floor.
“What do you think his name was?” she asked, swallowing deeply. I shook my head.
“No idea,” I answered quietly, taking in his appearance. I knelt down at his side and slipped my hand into his pockets.
“Don’t touch him,” Viola sputtered, horrified at my actions. Ignoring her, I delved into a second pocket and dug out a wallet. I opened it slowly, looking for his ID. It was readable through a windowed pocket but I slid it out into my fingers anyway.
“Carson West,” I read out, the card trembling in my shaky hands. Viola cast her eyes down at the floor, her shoulders slumped forward.
“I think that made me feel worse,” she uttered, numbly. “I took his life, Mar.”
“His life was already gone,” I reasoned trying to comfort her, though I wasn’t totally sure about that. They may not have been themselves, but they were still people.
“I killed someone,” her lip wobbled as she spoke. We were broaching dangerous territory. We could not afford any mental breakdowns, not right now.
“You protected your kids,” I replied, trying to justify her actions for her.
“In the worst way possible,” she countered.
I shook my head, “In the only way possible, Viola.”
She didn’t argue back, just fell silent. I knew she was still mulling it over, but we needed to move.
“Start cutting through the tubing,” I ordered, giving her a nudge. “I’ll go and look for something to put the gas in. They must have jerry cans here somewhere, right?”
As Viola turned away, I glanced again at the ID card in my hands. Something stopped me from giving it back to its owner. Instead, when I was sure my sister wasn’t looking, I slipped it into my back pocket.

“You ever been to California before?” Matt asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Uh-uh,” I muttered lamely, shaking my head. I didn’t really care to elaborate further than that.
“Mom always wanted to come here,” Hallie piped up. Matt turned his attention the more talkative of the two of us and struck up a conversation about the beaches or some crap. I don’t know, I stopped listening. Jimmy leaned into me, happily invading my personal space once again. He lowered his voice to almost a whisper, keeping his words between just the two of us.
“You know, Cali doesn’t usually make people grumpy,” he informed me.
“I’m not grumpy,” I replied, flatly.
“I beg to differ, your face says something else,” he whispered, staring at me intently, awaiting my answer.
I raised an eyebrow, “What does my face say?”
“Well, I’d go with 'fucking miserable' but that would be an understatement,” he snickered. I pursed my lips, battling with whether to let his carefree happiness infect me or to stay loyal to grieving Viola’s memory.
“Your sister wanted to come here, huh?” he asked, not giving me long enough to decide which direction to be swayed in.
“A dying wish,” I replied, dryly.
He nodded solemnly, “That’s heavy, dude. You wanna talk about it?”
“No.”
“K,” he replied with one syllable, matching my short answer. He went quiet and I relished the silence, but before long he started up again.
“Did you want to see California too?” he asked, peering at me. I wasn’t sure whether his intense stare was because he was genuinely interested, or if it was because he wasn’t wearing the glasses he apparently so needed. Either way, it made me shift uncomfortably in my seat.
“Do you always ask this many questions?” I countered, trying to swat him away.
“Yes,” he answered, simply. At least he was honest, I guess. “You want to ask me some?”
I closed my eyes, willing away his insistent conversation, “What could I possibly want to ask you?”
“I’m sure you can think of something,” he insisted, edging closer. I shuffled along, trying to put the already small distance back between us.
“Have you not heard of personal space?” I groaned, as he pulled a face.
“That’s a terrible question,” he smirked, but opted to stay put this time. Thank god, because I was nearly hanging off of the edge of the seat.
“Okay, fine,” I began, suddenly remembering our first meeting. I thought twice about asking, but Jimmy hadn't exactly been shy about the personal questions so I let my curiosity take over. “What's that thing that I see you twiddling around your fingers occasionally?”
This time, it was Jimmy’s turn to move away uncomfortably. He stayed true to his honest nature though as he cleared his throat and answered me.
“It’s a ring. Question time over.”
I sighed in relief, “Fine by me.”
I was more than happy for the interrogation to stop, though I was now secretly intrigued about the reaction I’d had from the blue eyed enigma that was Jimmy. It seemed out of character compared to what I’d seen so far. I wondered if he’d lost someone he loved too, and whether perhaps his sunny nature was a coping mechanism for that. Such a mechanism was an alien concept to me - I just found it easier to shut down if anyone mentioned Viola now, including Hallie. I was sure I owed it to her to keep the memory of her mom alive, but it was just too raw. She’d have to remember Viola by herself, because at present I was doing my best to forget.

Notes

Oh dear :( Everyone's having a wobble, past and present.