Page 20 of Patchover Fright Night
“You killed her,”my father whispered in my ear, and I flicked my hand at him to send him away.
“He’s not real, brother… uh… man…” Torch said quietly, sliding out from under both of us to help Stitch move.
“I think he’s hurt,” I said unnecessarily, and Torch snorted.
“Yeah, that’s what happens when dumb cunts jump off buildings with no fucking wings.”
“I have wings,” Stitch said instantly, then frowned, “what the fuck? Did I just say I have wings?”
“Yeah, and you tried to fly, man.”
I pointed at the building, again, pretty unnecessarily, since it was the only one close enough to be his attempted fucking launch point.
“You jumped off there.”
Stitch tried to turn to follow my pointing finger, and groaned again, lowering his head.
“My shoulder’s dislocated. Fuck!”
I took in the grim look on Torch’s face, and knew what he was thinking. We’d always been like that. Like we had one brain, at least until mine was clouded by so much fucking twisted hate, that I lost my mind.
“Lemme get behind him,” I said, scrambling to my feet, as I felt my dad’s twisted energy following me.
“Waste of space. Shoulda killed you when you were born.”
I turned to glare at him, wishing he’d shut the hell up, and go back to hell where he belonged.
“Why didn’t you, huh? Why didn’t you just fucking kill me then? You’re such a big fucking man, but you’d kill a baby? You sick fucking-”
“Micro, there’s nobody there, fuckhead. Can you give me a hand?”
“Who’s he yelling at?” Stitch asked, and Torch groaned.
“He’s hallucinating, man, just like you were. Yeah, that’s it, brace yourself, VP, this is gonna hurt.”
We worked together to snap Stitch’s shoulder back into place, and he gasped out a string of curses, as it hurt like a bitch. It wasn’t gonna stop hurting anytime soon either, but at least he was back in one piece.
“Coulda been worse, man. You jumped off a building,” I said, as I backed off and let Torch help him up. I nearly fell over Sophie’s corpse, as it seemed to be behind me now, and even though I was starting to realise it wasn’t real, I still felt the air rush out of my lungs, and the horror hit me, just like if it was actually real, if she was really dead. Why was my mind torturing me like this?
“Baby,” I groaned, dropping to my knees beside her. I reached out, and then froze. What if I touched her, and she was really there this time? What if she really was dead, and I just thought I was hallucinating it?
“Dammit, Micro, there’s nobody there!” Torch yelled as he dragged me to my feet again, turning me to face him. Tears burned my eyes, and I dragged the back of my hand over my face.
“How am I supposed to know what’s real? I’m so fucking lost, man. Help me.”
He swallowed hard, turning to see Stitch wandering away, and catching the back of his cut in his fist.
“Fuck’s sake. I can’t fix both of you, but we need help, yeah? I’m the only sober one out of the three of us, and that really sucks, because I’m not exactly the hero type, so can you just try and focus on the three of us, and getting to safety? Your dad’s not here, and whoever you keep seeing dead, I assume that’s Sophie?” I nodded, and he continued, “I promise you, she’s not anywhere near us right now, so if you see her again, don’t go there. She’s okay, but she’s here somewhere, and she needs you.”
“I need to save her, man. She’s having my baby, and I can’t lose either of them.”
“Huh?” Stitch spun to face us, as Torch couldn’t fight the smile on his face.
“Yeah? Congrats, man. So let’s go find your family, okay? Stay with me here.”
I think a little more clarity returned just then, seeing actual genuine happiness on Torch’s face, for me, for my news. Maybe there was still time to save what was left of our friendship after all. Suddenly my dad’s voice was barely permeating my senses, as we headed off together, to find our old ladies, and save the rest of the fucking club. If only it was that easy, right? The sound of a gunshot made us freeze in place for a moment, as we tried to figure out where it came from, and if one of us had been hit.
Torch
