Backtracker (25 page)

"
So lose some weight
!
"
said Dave.
"
Go on a diet and work out like crazy, and maybe you
'
ll take off some pounds!
"

"
I
'
ve
tried
!
"
Though his voice was raised to a booming volume, it possessed a pleading quality, more desperation than rage.
"
I
'
ve
starved
myself! I
'
ve
exercised
!
I
'
ve
pushed
myself till every muscle in my
body
hurt! I
'
ve tried
everything
,
and none of it does any
good
!
I
'
m
stuck
like this, Dave!
"

"
You
'
ve gotta
'
keep trying
!
"
rallied Dave.
"
You can
'
t just give
up
on everything...especially not like
that
.
"
Pointing at the gun, he scowled and shook his head.
"
As bad as life gets, it
'
s still a hell of a lot better than being dead!
"

"
How do
you
know
?
"
fired Boris.
"
Were
you
ever dead? Maybe it
'
s a
lot better than being alive!
Maybe you
do
become one with the universe.
"

"
Yeah,
"
tossed Dave,
"
and maybe you just wink out. Maybe there
isn
'
t
anything else after death.
"

"
So what? Either way, I win!
Nothing
is better than the
shit
I
'
m living through now!
"
With that, Boris spun on his heels and stomped away, heading for the path at the rim of the clearing.

"
Where are you
going
?
"
hollered Dave.

"
To find some peace and quiet
!
"
Boris shouted angrily.
"
I
'
ve got
work
to do!
"

Determined not to let Boris out of his sight, Dave followed the guy.
"
Get
back
here
!
"
he ordered.
"
Boris, get
back
here!
"

"
Blow it out your ass
!
"
bellowed Boris, the gun swinging at his side.

"
Stop
!
"
stormed Dave, temper seething, patience dissolving.

"
Go to hell
!
"
blew Boris.

That did the trick; that was enough to tear down every last vestige of restraint within Dave Heinrich. Ever since
he'd
entered the clearing, Dave had been stonewalled by Boris, rebuffed in his every attempt to offer solace. Boris had badgered and bullied him, snapped at him, mocked him, refuted every word that
he'd
said...and Dave had weathered it, borne the onslaught without truly losing his temper. Because his friend was in a fatal state of mind, Dave had held back, checked the impulse to erupt with real fury.

As Boris stubbornly marched away from him, though, Dave finally uncorked his rage.
He'd
had enough of the fruitless game with Boris; there
wasn
'
t
anyt
hing left to lose.

"
I said
stop
!
"
he screamed, his furious cry exploding into the night.
"
Stop,
you dumb bastard
!
"
he shrieked, his voice launching to a mad pitch unmatched until that instant.
"
Stop
or I swear to
God
I
'
ll kill you myself!
"

Boris stopped. His toes were on the threshold of the path, but he moved no further.

Dave careened across the clearing and was beside him in a second.
"
That
'
s
it
!
"
he hurled savagely, glaring at Boris.
"
I am
sick
of your
shit
, Boris!
"

Boris opened his mouth to say something, but Dave cut him off.

"
You
'
re acting like an asshole
!
"
blazed Dave.
"
You know how
stupid
you sound? You
'
re tellin
'
me you
'
re going to
kill
yourself because you can
'
t get
laid
!
Does
that make even the
slightest
bit of sense?
"

Boris glowered in the moonlight, flicked the pistol against his thigh.

"
Damnit
!
"
shot Dave.
"
So
what
if you can
'
t get laid? So
what
?
If all the guys who couldn
'
t get laid went and
killed
themselves, you sure
as hell wouldn
'
t be the only one dead!
"

Shoulders pumping with rapid breath, Boris glared but said nothing.

"
I
'
d
have to kill myself, too
!
"
continued Dave.
"
I
'
ve
never gotten laid either! But you know what? I would
never
kill myself over
sex
, no matter
how
hard
-
up I got! Even if I thought I
'
d
never
have sex for the rest of my
life
, I wouldn
'
t blow myself away!
Sex
just
isn
'
t
the only thing to
live
for...I don
'
t care
who
you are!
"

Boris
'
face burned with anger; there
didn
'
t
seem to be the faintest flicker of interest in his eyes.

"
Now you can
'
t
tell
me there aren
'
t things you like to
do
!
Playing your guitar, writing poems, riding your cycle, coming to parties...I
know
you
love
that stuff! Well,
that
'
s
what you
live
for! Those are the things you
enjoy
, and they don
'
t have
anything
to do with sex!
"

Boris stared darkly at Dave but
didn
'
t
try to interrupt his speech.

"
You know what
'
s
really
important
?
"
raved Dave, plowing recklessly onward.
"
Your
friends
, asshole! You keep making it sound like you don
'
t
have
any, but you
know
you
do
!
You
'
ve got
tons
of them, Boris
--
me, Billy, Ernie, Jack, Tom, Carl...I could go on and on!
That
'
s
what it
'
s all about, man!
That
'
s
something to
live
for! People who don
'
t give a
damn
what you look like! People who
'
re gonna
'
stick by you no matter what!
"

Sighing, Boris looked away from Dave, cast his angry, impudent gaze into the shadowy woods.

"
So
what
if you don
'
t have a girlfriend! So
what
if some of them laugh at you! If a girl can
'
t see you for what you really
are
,
then she
'
s worthless anyway!
"
Dave swept a hand out and latched onto Boris
'
shoulder, gave it a rough shake.
"
Man, you
'
ve
got
to q
uit taking this so
seriously
!
I don
'
t
know
if you
'
re ever gonna
'
get a girlfriend, but you
'
ve gotta
'
quit
worrying
about it! Things are tough all over, Boris! I
'
ve got
my
problems, you
'
ve got
yours
, but
none
of them are worth
killing
yourself over!
"

Boris remained silent. It was impossible to tell if anything that Dave had said had gotten through to him.

"
No more bullshit, Boris,
"
continued Dave.
"
Cut out this
suicide
shit, and don
'
t even
think
about it again,
'
cause you
'
re too good of a
friend
and I
don
'
t wanna
'
lose
you!
None
of us do!
"

With that, the tirade ended; Dave
had not
hing left to say. Yanking his hand from Boris
'
shoulder, he glowered at the guy, searching his face for some kind of reaction.

For a long moment, Boris just stood there, scowling at Dave. The gun dangled at his side, awaiting a decision.

Then, at last, Boris spoke.

"
Screw you,
"
he snarled indignantly.

Exhausted from the battle of wills, Dave said nothing. He felt utterly drained and dull, unable to summon the strength for another charge at his friend
'
s defenses.

With a final, wrathful glare, Boris turned away and lumbered down the path. Hunched and haggard, Dave watched him go, dejectedly realizing what his next course of action had to be.

He would have to go after the gun. As futile and dangerous as it might be, he would have to make the attempt; there was no other way to save Boris
'
life.