The Painting by Ryan Casey Page A

smiled softly at Donny, a glimmer of regret in his bloodshot eyes.
    “I guess it is,” Donny said. “I… I don’t know how to thank you. I wish I coul—”
    “Don’t,” Reginald said, nodding his head. “Don’t. You just take that map and you go into those woods and find what you’re looking for.” He sat back against his seat, staring straight ahead.
    Donny reached his hand out.
    Reginald looked down at it and frowned.
    “Wait, don’t tell me you don’t know what a handshake is either?”
    Reginald opened his mouth in confusion and then broke into a grin. “Course I do,” he said, grabbing hold of Donny’s hand. “Course I do. Now go on—get out of here.”
    Donny smiled and pulled his hand away, opening the car door.
    “I should say,” Reginald said. “When you get closer to the gap, if we’ve got this right, you’ll know about it.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “You’ll see things. You’ll see things more vividly than you did on your way here. It… it might not be pretty but you’ve just got to stay strong. Stay strong and stay focused. If you let them get to your sanity, then you’ll let them get to you full stop and you’ll never get out of here. You got that?”
    Donny smiled and saluted in acknowledgement. “Got it. Thanks.” He started to close the car door.
    “And one more thing. If—”
    “Get your hands behind your head and get down on your knees.”
    Donny froze. He wasn’t sure where the voice came from. It seemed to come from all directions, all at once, but he could tell from the shift in Reginald’s eyes that he was behind him.
    “I won’t fucking repeat myself, fallout piece of shit.”
    Donny’s stomach sank as he placed his hands behind his head, his pulse pounding in his skull. As he did, something pushed him down to his knees and up against the side of the car, pressing his head against the glass. In the mirror, he saw him clearly, and he saw what it was that was pushed against his head.
    “That’s it,” the guard said. “Stay on your knees. Old man, you drive away now. I’m a reasonable guy so I’m going to let you just drive and pretend none of this ever happened.”
    Reginald’s eyes were wide, his entire body static in the seat of the car. He held his hands in mid-air. Donny could see his chest rapidly rising and falling as his mind struggled to make the decision.
    Just go. Just go.
    “Old man,” the guard said, throwing Donny’s face into the side of the car again. “I won’t ask you again. Get out of here. You know what they do to fallout sympathisers like you in prison, huh?”
    Instead of driving away, Reginald remained frozen in his seat like a portrait. Why didn’t he just go? He needed to get out of here. He’d got him this far.
    The guard tutted and threw Donny onto his back. “Fucking ridiculous. You stay there,” he said, pointing the gun at him. He stepped around towards the car door and swung it open, stuffing the gun into the side of Reginald’s head. “Are you going to get out of here or am I going to have to make you? Huh?”
    Donny couldn’t see what was happening as he remained on the floor, but he knew what he had to do. Reginald had got him this far, but there was nothing else he could do for him now. It was either both of them dead, or one of them dead. Both of them, or one of them.
    “I’m going to count to three, and you— Oi, come the fuck back here, right this minute!”
    Donny ran. He wasn’t sure where he was running to or how fast he was running, but he was inside the trees and inside the darkness. His heart thumped and breathing rattled as he hid behind a tree. He could still help Reginald. He could go back for him and help him.
    When he turned round, he saw Reginald on his knees, the guard holding the gun to his head.
    “I’ll give you five seconds to get back here or your friend gets it. After everything he’s done for you, you won’t let that happen, huh? You’re going to come back