Chapter VI

	Dark.

	Well, it was night, after all.

	It had been three days since she and Barry had left home --
sprinted away from home, more precisely.  Three days, eating only a few
apples, drinking only a little water found in a lake, never changing
clothes, and all the time fleeing from the men that must have killed
their parents.

	They were just plain in sorry shape.  Jen _had_ to be wearing a
dress, didn't she?  She'd cut off the bottom half of it just minutes
after they began their run, used it as a sling to hold whatever stuff
they had.  Barry was holding the bag, with whatever worldly posessions
they still had remaining -- which was basically the gun.

	She looked over at Barry.  He was lagging behind a little bit,
not surprising after days of travel.  He looked bad; his clothes were
torn, worse than they had been when they had started out, his skin was
covered in small scratches from sleeping in bushes, his hair was full of
burrs...Jen kindof wondered what she looked like herself, having gone
through the same stuff as Barry.

	"Barry, you want a rest?  We can afford it."  She hoped they
could afford it, at least.  She stopped walking.

	Barry didn't answer with words.  Instead, he just walked on,
parallel to the huge city that they had been trying to avoid for days.
He passed up Jen, and kept on moving.

	"Barry!  Please!  We need a rest!"  She was tired too; why did
Barry have to do this?  They could use a rest.  They could go in the
city, for God's sake; what would it hurt?

	Barry kept walking for about two steps.  Then he stopped.  He
turned towards Jen; his eyes moved towards hers menacingly.  For a brief
instant, their eyes met -- and then he closed his eyes.  He dropped to
the ground.

	Shit.  She'd offended him.  He'd never say it, but he was
offended at her yelling.

	She walked over to him, and sat down.  "Barry, I'm sorry.  We
just need rest."  Maybe she could snap him out of this; she knew how
stubborn he could be, and they couldn't afford to stay stopped.  "It's
alright, Barry.  I'm sorry I snapped at you."

	Barry responded in much the same way he had before.  His eyes
opened, glared at her for a fraction of a second, then closed again.  

	"Barry, I'm sorry."  No response.  "I'm sorry, Barry.  Barry, we
just needed to rest.  Do you understand, Barry?"  No response.

	This was hopeless.

	Jen stood in disgust.  This rest wasn't going to work.  "Look,
if you don't want to rest, we won't, alright?  Come on."  She started
walking south next to the city; if he didn't want to rest for a second,
then let him suffer.  Let's move.

	About twenty seconds later, she glanced back to make sure that
he was coming.

	He was still sitting in the grass, unmoving.

	"Barry, come on!  Get moving!"  

	No response.

	He wasn't going to move.

	"Barry!  Get up!  Now!"

	No response.

	"Barry!  Stand your ass up _NOW_!"

	She hadn't meant to say that.  She didn't like to curse at her
brother; he was screwed up enough as it was, and he didn't need abuse.
But goddammit, they needed to get moving!  They couldn't sit here!

	Yet, there was still no response.  None at all.

	"Barry!  Get the hell up right fucking NOW, dammit!  I'm not in
the mood for this crap, and I'm not going to deal with it.  We need to
get moving, and if we stay here we're going to die.  Do you understand
that, Barry?  We're going to die!  STAND THE FUCK UP, GODDAMMIT!"

	For a few seconds, there was no response from Barry.  Then, he
suddenly dropped the bag of stuff that they still carried.  It burst
open, revealing all of their possessions -- a few apples, a few small
pins, some buttons...and the gun, with some ammunition.

	Before she could react, he grabbed for the gun.  Before she knew
it, the gun was pointed towards her.

	"Barry!  What are you..."  She stopped.  She realized that he
was further gone than she had thought.  He was going to try to kill
her.

	She stood there, shocked, as Barry pulled the trigger.

	The gun didn't go off.  He'd forgotten the safety, but he
wouldn't forget next time.  Jen ran to get behind a hill, to somewhere
that she could be safe.

	She heard a click.  The safety was off.  She had to get to
safety _fast_.  

	Then she realized she wasn't going to make it.  No way.  The
nearest cover was a hundred meters away.  

	She turned, her hands above her head.

	"Barry, put down the gun, bro.  It's alright.  I'm not going to
hurt you.  I'm not going to yell at you.  Just don't kill me, Barry.
Just put down the gun.  It's alright."

	That's how the guys in the books she read had always talked down
the guy with the gun...

	Barry pulled the trigger.  This time, there was an explosion.

	Jen felt a thump in her right leg.  The bullet had hit somewhere
below the knee, she assumed, because she didn't feel anything below
it...

	Her thoughts on the matter fell short when she realized she was
also falling.  She hit the ground with a thud and a crack; she almost
lost consciousness, but for some reason held on...

	She croaked out just one word.  "Barry..."

	She looked up, expecting the next bullet to kill her.  But it
didn't come.

	Instead, she saw her brother turning the gun towards himself.

	A thought came to her with sudden clarity.  Barry had gone
insane.  He couldn't deal with the deaths of their parents.  Why hadn't
she noticed it?  The signs were there; my God, he hadn't even talked for
days, ever since he'd told her what had happened...

	He was going to kill himself.

	She didn't have much energy, but she had to try.  "Barry!  No!
Don't do it!"

	Barry looked again at her.  His eyes were open; his eyes were
full of sadness.  This time, they also didn't look away from her.

	"They're dead, Jen.  And I should be too."

	Jen let out a scream as Barry pulled the trigger of the gun.