"Yeah!"
"Stay out of this Serena." "You're no fun."
"Six inches."
"It's just hair!" Billy shouted, exasperated.
"Do you know what I went through to grow it like that?! My parents almost disowned me!" "Oh.."
"My father went at me with a knife!"
"He tried to kill you for growing your hair?!" Serena demanded, a look of abject horror on her face. "No, he tried to chop my pony tail off."
"Maybe he should have." "Screw off."
And all was silent for a while. Not even Serena spoke as the strange boy sulked. Occasionally pulling at the shortened strands of hair. Perhaps he didn't realize he was doing it, he'd always violently pull his hand away, like he'd been burned, once he realized what he was doing. But that was little to the point.
"A rat." Jared wince. Luke blushed.
Serena covered her face.
"Yes, a rat." Billy was the one who spoke, smirking at the three reactions. "Idiots, aren't they?" "But they're your idiots."
"No. Serena's my idiot, unfortunately. The other two are tag alongs that I wouldn't attach my name to if you paid me." "Cold."
"True."
"Agreed."
"Can we not talk about this?!" Serena demanded, uncovering her face only long enough to shout the words.
"No. If you want to drag me into your mess, I want to understand this story. So you spilled the vile onto a rat?" "Well, it wasn't a rat, so to speak. It was more like an itty bitty little mouse."
"Serena, it was as big as my foot." Luke snapped with a glare, cheeks still burning. "You dropped it onto a rodent. Better?"
All three nodded.
"Good. Now, you dropped it onto a rodent, and then what?" "We're not too sure actually."
"We assume"
"Didn't we go through this already?!" "Serena, do you want his help or not?!" "Fine!"
"Anyway. We assume that the rodent got into the food storage room at school. Probably padded around in some of the supplies. And the disease got spread that way." "But rats"
"Rodents!"
"Excuse me, rodents, never carried anything that can turn people into zombies, did they?" "No."
"I don't get it either." "I have a theory."
All eyes were on Billy, who normally tried to stay out of the situation as much as possible. He was determined to make his granddaughter, and her slower than average friends dig themselves out of the mess they made as best they could. He wouldn't outright deny them help, not in such a dangerous dilemma. But he'd make them work. He was deadset on it.
"I'm listening, Billy."
"I'm thinking that, perhaps, the vile mutated something that the rat" "Rodent!"
"That the rat already had. We all know that they can carry the plague" "They carry the ticks that carry the plague!"
"And various other diseases I'm warning you Serena. Perhaps this epidemic is just an evolved form of one of them? Maybe this is just an incubation period for something even worse, which is why we really need to work on this. I don't plan on dying, and then eventually redying, as a result of a bunch of lazy college students."
This got a snortle out of the newcomer, bringing a little light to his depression. One didn't need to read minds to tell that he was awfully upset. At his new hair cut. At the fact that he'd been kidnapped. At the fact that they were denying it but not allowing him to leave anyway. At the zombies. At the theories. At the explanations. he was just upset, in general.
And in desperate need of a happy pill.
"Interesting theory, Billy. But do you have proof?" "Do you have any other ideas?"
"No."
"Then shut up."
"I'm leaving." The boy stated, getting to his feet with very little hesitation. "Sit!"
He sat right back down with even less hesitation.
"You really should stop all this, 'I'm leaving' crap. It's rude, kiddo." "I think holding a guy against his will is pretty rude, myself."
"Don't start again."
"I shouldn't be here!" "We need your help!" "Help yourself!"
"Will all of you children just shut the hell up already?!" Billy demanded, glaring at the group and their quickly escalating fight. "I'm tired of it. Kid, we know you don't want to be here. Tough shit, you are. Serena, stop complaining. Boys, stop instigating."
The kids just stared for a moment, with whatever emotions they were harboring deep beneath the surface. Serena, Jared, and Luke because they knew better than to respond. The kidnapped youth because he didn't want four more murders on his hands. But he finally stood again. Not approaching the door, but beginning to pace. Gently touching his skull as it began to throb.
"Painful?" "You think?"
"Now, now. There's no need to get a 'tude sweety." "Don't call me sweety."
"Then what is your name?"
"Come on, man, we've been guessing for hours." "I'm still voting for Butterball."
"Stay out of this Serena." "But I"
"What did I just say, kids?" "Sorry, Billy."
"Why are you guys so scared of grandpa over there anyway?"
"You've obviously never seen a man rip a guys arm out of its socket, and then shove it back to place without any remorse." "You've obviously never done it yourself."
"Say what now?"
Lips twitched at the way that the three chemistry failures backed away from the young man. It probably shouldn't have amused the boy so, but it did. he was having difficulties keeping the smirk at bay. The three were staring in various degrees of horror, and disbelief. But it was true. Very true. The implication of what he'd said was.
"You've"
"Not without reason, of course." "Of course."
"But you've"
"Yes, I've popped peoples arms out of their sockets, and shoved them back into place. Once or twice. To a couple of people. Occasionally. But they really did deserve it. One of those, 'either I do this or don't come out of it in one piece' situations. I personally figured hurting them was the better choice."
"I like this kid."
"You like anyone who shares your opinions, Grandpa." "It just means they're smart."
"So, what do you guys want me to do exactly?"
The group stared at the boy hair cropped, skin pale, eyes pained. They weren't so sure where the question had come from. Maybe it was brought about by the realization that he and Billy weren't quite so different. Regardless, they all smiled. However, it was Serena who stepped forward.
"Why don't you start by getting your friends, and bringing them back here?" "But I"
"We'll drive you to the warehouse they're at." "Why do you want them?"
"They'll be safer here." "Much safer."
"Trust us."
CHAPTER TWELVE
As embarrassing as it is to admit, the old man and I didn't quite "deck it out." At the very least, not the way I'd planned it. There was no hooting, no hollering, and no blaze of glory. There were no quick jabs, or swings of the cane sword whatever, for me to expertly dodge. He hit me one time one, single time, and I went down at the moment of impact.
Even then there was no hooting, or hollering. Just silence.
An unholy silence that made me feel like a fool, a child, and a brat all in one sitting. Dammit, I wish they'd just say something.
Anything. Dammit.
"Feeling better now?" Was the question that Dustin chose to ask while staring down at my prone form.
I felt blood filling my mouth from the slit on the inside of my lip, where the flesh had scraped violently against my teeth moments before. I felt terrible. The old man had a pretty damn good right hook but I wouldn't say it out loud. No. That may have made him feel good, and we couldn't have his ego inflating.
"I will not dignify that question with an answer." Came my response mumbled around a mouthful of blood. As it was, I tipped my head to the side, and spit a rather nasty glob out, however away from the three men around me.
I wouldn't want to be considered rude while in such a vulnerable position. I wasn't nearly that stupid.
"Ye did just dignify 'is question with a' answer, ye 'tardo."
I only gritted my teeth at the old man's condescending tone of voice. I didn't speak didn't want to bring our problem to anymore of a head. I didn't want to give him more fuel. But also, in all honesty, I didn't want to get hit again.
Dammit if my mouth didn't just hurt.
It was as if the damned blow outright vibrated through my skull. I had a sudden headache, each and every one of my teeth hurt, my neck was throbbing, and my eyes were sore. And I couldn't explain why my eyes were sore, of all the damned things. So I just laid there, looking away from the men, pondering how my life could get any worse.
"Well, I could always be eaten alive my suicidal leprechauns. Heh, that would be new." "Pardon?"
"Nothing."
I barely noted that Ian was staring at me in horror, certainly thinking that I'd lost my marbles. Drained the six pack. However one may wish to phrase it. The expression on his face told me that he feared I'd completely lost it.
Maybe I had.
Maybe I really had.
"Come on, now." Dustin was gripping my biceps before I could protest his touching me. "We need to get your mouth cleaned out. Make sure none of your teeth are broken." "None of my teeth are broken. Trust me."
"But"
"Trust the kiddo. Ye'd know if yer teeth was broken, eh."
I couldn't help but wonder why the old man was suddenly being nice. Maybe it was guilt over hitting me. But I doubted that, and just let Dustin pull me toward the bathroom snagging a bottle of water as he went. I didn't know whether to be annoyed at his fussing, or flattered that he cared as he made me gargle the liquid, and spit it out before demanding I open my mouth for inspection.
It felt rather odd going "aah" for the man, but I did it to please him. For a minute there I swore he'd try to climb in as he kept repositioning my face for a better view. Poking once or twice, probably to see if his eyes were lying to him. But finally, he pulled away, and grinned at me.
"No chipped, cracked, or broken teeth from what I can tell." "I told you"
"But I think you have a rather nasty cavity."
I hit him for his effort, but grinned nonetheless. "I really wish you'd stop fighting with Blaz."
I opened my mouth to object to that. I wanted to place the blame, or at least part of it, on Blaz's shoulders. I refused to believe it was all my fault, because it wasn't. If I was going to straighten out, so was the old man. I refused to take the responsibility.
But before I could get any words out, a finger was placed before my lips. It effectively silenced me, at least for a moment. It was then that I stared into green eyes, noticing how tired the grown man appeared. My problems probably had a profound effect on him. While he could just be worrying about cannibalism, and the walking dead, he had to worry about me as well. About the old man.
"I'm not trying to blame you, Excel. I'm not. But if you'd just let Blaz believe what he wants to, he may stop hitting you so often. Maybe he'll stop being such a stick in the ass" "I always thought it was stick in the grass.."
"Well, considering how he's acted so far, 'ass' seems way more appropriate." His lips twitched into a smile as I chuckled. "Anyway. Please, just try to be the bigger person? No matter how much you want to be tiny. No matter how dirty you want to play."
"I will. I promise, Dustin."
"Please, Excel, just" He froze. "What?" "I said 'I will. I promise.'"
"You will?"
"Yes, Dustin. I'll try my best to behave."
"Really?!" "Yes!"
"Thanks. You're a good kid, Excel." "Aw, you're just saying that!"
"So?"
I swung to hit the man again, but he'd started moving. Walking away from the bathroom, and back towards the group of people. One of the girls appeared to be scolding Blaz, probably for punching me. Ian had probably ratted him out, if they'd asked where I went. I knew the boy wasn't above snitching. I wasn't above snitching either.
Regardless.
"Excel, are you all right?" "I'm fine. I'm fine."
"Rat fink."