They Call Me Daring

Chapter 46

"We gather here today in memory of a great man, a daring man." The preacher said. "A man named Liam Trackerson."
A great man... I liked that.
"A man who gave his life to save ours." He continued. "Who fought till his last breath, which we thought had come so many times. A man who put himself before others."
Why did they keep calling me a man? I was fourteen. Since when did that qualify?
"Liam was bitten on the eve of his fourteenth birthday... and yet he fought against the poison. He kept his mind sound (for the most part) and eventually discovered the cure to the disease which has plagued us for these ten years of hardship."
So they had tested it then... I wondered whether they had launched the bomb yet.
"Liam was a quiet person. Not many knew him well. As his father, I pride myself in being one of those few people who did." Suddenly the voice was recognizable. Since when had my father been qualified to preach? "Liam was strong, though, and he usually hid it. He was strong enough to resist until the very end-" Dad stopped, his voice cracking.
The Doc's voice, now. "Thank you, Eddie." Apparently he stepped forward and began to speak.
"Liam was an admirable boy, no doubt about that-"
Oh, now I was a boy again. Great.
"-And tonight, in memory of this brave founder of the new world, we will honor him by launching the bomb on the lawn," He said proudly. "-after the funeral, that is."
What? That was what this was? A funeral?
Now it was Clark's voice. I could tell he was trying not to cry. "-And when the bomb is released and we're finally rid of this plague, and we begin to rebuild our world; remember Liam. Remember the quiet boy who hung at the corner of parties, who wore a paper bag over his face so we wouldn't lock him up for being infected; who acted strange, did weird things- and ultimately was the bravest person I've ever known." He finished, choking up a little near the end.
What did he mean, known? Why were they talking about me in past-tense?!
"Liam was a dumby-head." Jess's voice as he summed up my entire life. I knew he meant it in the most remarkably brotherly way possible, though. Probably.
Then it was Meg's voice. "Liam... I thought Liam was dead quite a few times, actually." A scattering of subdued, reminiscent laughs. "And I still find it hard to believe he's really not going to hop out of his casket and walk away, even now-" Her voice suddenly got very high, and I got the sense someone was trying to pull her away from the microphone.
I tried to call out to them. To scream that I was actually alright. Somehow...
"No. Liam was strong. He just didn't like to show it." She said with determination, her voice finding newfound strength. I searched myself for my strength and tried to stand up. But my body refused to respond.
"Liam set an example for us all to follow. He dared to stand against what what everybody else said, to challenge the very laws of nature-" She paused to take a deep breath. "Liam dared to be different. An individual. He dared to stand up for what he believed in, for what was right. He dared to give his own life up to save others."
"Liam, well," My father's voice again. I struggled against my own body, which bound me, encaged me like a prison. "Liam... Liam was daring."
The words struck at my soul and I concentrated, hard. My eyes snapped open. I was staring up at... blackness. Crap. What was that they said about a casket?
"It was at the hands of a single man that we lost this brave individual," My father carried on. "And there will be a day to take our vengeance on the killer. But that is not this day. Today is the day we mourn the victim."
The what? Now I was a victim?! They were making me seem harmless! I wanted, needed to shout- to scream and thrash and be alive. I wanted to let them see that I wasn't dead! I should have been, though... I frowned in concentration, then felt elated. My muscles were coming back to life.
"And next time you look out at the new city, rid forever of the plague; next time you see somebody doing something brave, or you have a hard decision to make- remember Liam." It was Clark. "Remember the quiet boy who seemed to be able to turn invisible. Who knew just how to get on your nerves-"
Got that right.
"-and annoy the crap out of you." He chuckled softly. "This is the second time this week I've been prepared to think my little brother was dead... but I just can't believe it's real this time..." He choked up.
That's cause it's not real, stupid! I needed to shout. I was infuriated that I couldn't even move, and just had to lie there, dead for the second time in what had apparently been a week. Just listen to them cry over me, which they never would have done while I was alive.
I felt frustration building in my chest, and I wriggled my shoulder, just a little bit. I smiled slightly, and flexed my fingers a little. Yes, just a little bit more.
Sad organ music filled the room. Great. A large room, apparently, though the sounds were muffled by the casket. I rolled my shoulders as much as the small space allowed, every joint in my body popping and snapping, as my heart began to speed back up. My arms and legs tingled almost unbearably, my entire body, as blood spread back through.
"Goodbye, Liam." I heard Jess whisper through the walls of the casket- not at the microphone, but close. Right next to me.
My blood ran cold, and I growled in frustration, or at least imagined I did, wriggling a little more, trying to get the blood to flow. Slowly, feeling drizzled back into my limbs. I was wearing a suit... why was I wearing a suit? I didn't even own a suit!
"See ya later, man." Clark sniffled next to my coffin, and I struggled harder. They were saying their goodbyes- no! I wasn't gone yet! I was still here, my heart was still beating, my lungs were still working!
I tried to shout, to beat my hands against the roof of the casket. But my hands were still too numb, and my voice cracked when I tried to speak.
"Goodbye... Liam." Dad said next to the coffin, and then I was squirming with every fiber of my being. I managed to make a sick mewing noise from my mouth, like a dying kitten.
"Shh!" It was Meg, next to me. So close... "Did you guys hear that?"
I nodded, wanting her to feel my encouragement. I tried to bang against the roof of the casket, but it was padded, and any sound was absorbed.
I tried to growl again, but no sound would come up, my voice cracking, my vocal cords stiff from lack of use.
Silence filled the room.
"Meg-" Somebody began, but she must have shrugged them off.
I heard her quiet sobs as there was the sound of people beginning to disband, getting up, a soft murmur echoing through the room. They were leaving! They were going to bury me!
"Meg, he's not coming back." Clark muttered quietly to her, his voice cracking as he tried unsuccessfully to hide his sobbing.
"But I could have sworn I heard something-"
"Why don't you understand!" He raised his voice. "He's not coming back, Meg! He's gone! He's- he's gone, actually gone-" His low, broken sobs filled the room.
Meg's voice was almost right in my ear as she whispered, "Liam... I thought you said it would be a happily ever after? Why did you have to die, Liam!"
Then the sobbing. Soft and quiet, sniffling as I heard footsteps, and the last two people turned to leave me, dead brother, dead boyfriend.
Dead Liam.
I groaned as loudly as possible in a final desperate bid to live, sounding like a sick cat, and there was no way they could possibly hear it over the sound of their own anguish, but-
"Clark- listen!"
Silence.
I closed my eyes and mustered up every ounce of strength in my body, reliving every moment in my life over once more in a faction of a second- from the look on Clark's face when he saw me doing weird things, to the feel of Meg's hands, small and delicate, in mine, the warmth of her skin, and the smiles on their faces during those rare moments when they were happy...
"I'm....not.... freaking.... DEAD!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, my voice muffled almost to the point of silence by the thick wood.
I could practically see them looking at each other in stunned silence.
"L-....Liam?" Clark called tentatively.
"Yeah... Wassup?" I replied, my voice coming back, less crackly the more I talked. I heard Meg and Clark's slight, unbelieving gasps of amazement.
"You... you're alive?" Meg squeaked, the hope in her voice practically unbearable.
"Barely." I muttered. I grunted, pushing against the roof of the casket.
"A little help would be nice!" I called, kicking at the coffin.
"Sorry." They both said. Light peered in through the crack as they slowly pried open the lid.
"Thank you!" I gasped, sitting bolt upright once it was off and sucking in the cool air, replenishing my lungs and letting the light blind me thankfully.
"Oh my God, Liam!" Meg screamed, throwing herself at me and wrapping her arms around my neck in a death grip.
"Yeah-uh-choking-" I wheezed as she contracted my lungs. She continued to squeeze- then suddenly pulled back and slapped me across the face, hard.
"OW!" I yelped, pressing my hand to my face. "What was that for!?"
"For pretending to be dead, you idiot!" She shouted- then she was hugging me again, and then she kissed me.
I didn't even get to enjoy it this time- she was sucking all the air out of my lungs- I just blinked in surprise and tried to register just what was going on. I couldn't see anything- the light was too bright after the absolute darkness. I blinked rapidly, trying to see anything. I found Clark's outline and widened my eyes, silently begging to for help. He just laughed.
"Meg- I think you're suffocating him..." Clark said gently after almost an entire minute of uninterrupted kissing and hugging.
"Right." She pulled back away, and I gasped in more air, finally able to make out vague shapes. I blinked at the rows of empty seats in the old stone church.
"Where'd everyone go...?" I said numbly, my voice sounding weird in my own ears.
"They're all outside, about to launch a bomb in your memory." Clark explained. He frowned. "You, eh, you might want to get out there. Like, now."
"Yeah, on it." I agreed, and went to hop out of the casket. My feet missed the floor completely, and I crumpled to the ground.
"Maybe walking can wait." I murmured with my eyes closed, wriggling my still-numb feet slightly.
"But you can't. Everyone thinks you're dead!" Clark said. He and Meg each draped one of my arms over their shoulders and proceeded to half-drag me to the far door.
"I thought I was too." I muttered.
"How are you alive, though?" Meg said in awe.
I shrugged as best I could, and answered honestly. "No clue."
We would guess many times over the years as to how exactly I survived a bullet directly in the heart, but we would never know for sure. Some people thought it was the hint of the beast inside me that healed me after the doctors had removed the bullet and proclaimed me dead- but I knew the beast had died the day I fought as a human for my family.
         Some said it was the remainder of the euthanasia in my blood, but that didn't make any sense.
I never told anybody this–not even Meg–and I don't think they would've ever believed me if I had. It's not the kind of thing you tell to people, even the ones you trust. But I felt sure that for some reason, somehow, I had earned my right to live. I had stood up for the people I loved and the things I believed in, and something had kept me alive.
We would never know the true answer, though, so I simply accepted the gift I was given, and didn't question it.
"Come on, Liam." Meg looked at me, and I realized I had withdrawn my arms and was standing still, staring at the ground. "You've got a world to save, remember?"
"I remember." I grinned, putting my arms around their shoulders again and walking forward with them, like friends do. "Right. A world to save." I stopped right in front of the doors, before my world would again be turned upside down, and looked at them both, enjoying the feeling of absolute peace.
"And I think I've got a book to write."