#just gotta get my brain cell cracking till then enjoy this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

garbagequeer · 5 years

Note

what are your favorite cshr songs?

i change my mind a lot and can’t make decisions so im just gonna go album by album picking my favorites because there’s A LOT of great songs (also these are in no particular order cause i really am a gemini who can’t make a simple choice). when im done with this i’ll bold the ones i guess are my overall favorites but i have too much room in my heart and brain and i love all of them and i can’t not mention all the great songs that i love. Also my overall favorites change all the time hence the full long ass list. again i AM a gemini

teens of denial:

drunk drivers obviously (and drunk drives single version with the modified verse from plane crash blues like. if you cant find your friends you can leave without them !! so much)

destroyed by hippie powers (which holds a special place in my heart cause i remember listening to it 24/7 and going to the bar with my friends during second term finals my first year of college instead of studying and then the year after that going to see csh also during second term finals and them playing it like. full circle baby)

not what i needed. i feel so empty trying to explain this!

1937 state park

unforgiving girl (also holds a special place in my heart cause im pretty sure it’s the song that got me into them after being like hey i should check out that car seat headrest band since like 2013 but never getting around to it)

the ballad of the costa concordia like. i love to die thank you

drugs with friends (also it feels 5 times more special to me since i saw them play it)

fill in the blank

literally i feel bad for not just putting every song from this album like i love them all they punch me in the face every time but. gotta move along.

how to leave town:

BEAST MONSTER THING (LOVE ISN’T LOVE ENOUGH) LIKE. WHAT? WHAT?? !!!!

i want you to know that im awake / i hope that you’re asleep. you know that quote from like. an article about greta gerwig and lady bird that’s like (wait i googled it):Every situation is pretext for a confrontation: underdone eggs, a pile of rumpled clothes, a hand reaching too quickly for the radio. The question on the surface might be ‘What did you do?’ but the feeling underneath is ‘Who are you and why don’t you know how to love me?’that’s this song

is this dust really from the titanic? mainly cause i think it’s underrated and very endearing like. car seat headrest: more guitar shit

hey space cadet. obviously like

wasn’t going to put more songs cause i think i need to relax but. the ending of dramamine deserves to be listed i mean i can’t hear a thing now i guess i belong to me now but when night fell on montana i found a rest stop completely deserted but i still felt the eyes upon me so i drove away. it BE like that

you know what? fuck it. america and kimochi warui are also favorites. they’re all so good im sorry i CANT do this

nervous young man:

first of all: i wanna sweat. it’s like. you CAN have the euphoric emotion of bodys outside of the fantasy. effervescent amazing uplifting etc etc

burning man. i will go crazy istg like he’s like im defined by the fact that you’re there and we’re different people… i wanna burn your picture! i mean…… yeah

plane crash blues i mean shut up with all these bad vibes all this yelling just shut up shut up shut up! like. to himself.. we get it. and if your luggage is lost you can leave without it and if you run out of drugs you can sleep without them and if you wanna go home you can call a taxi and if you don’t wanna talk you can sit in the backseat. much to think about

death at the movies. sometimes you’re a little depressed and you just. watch movies and it’s weird

boxing day. hand will toledo a womanhood card right now for this like yeah! i feel so haunted and no one seems to notice and no one seems to care!!!! and it doesn’t really matter I’ll just ajlhfsdg!!!. ALSO literally i did something bad im not allowed to go outside anymore i can only be awake at night for the next year of my life. been there done that and all. ALSO i have worms in mouse traps baby cracks me up every time

the gun song. there’s a lot going on there

afterglow and jerks cause i love to have fun too

monomania:

misheard lyrics and i don’t think it gets enough love

times to die and also the teens of style version

overexposed (enjoy). again i love fun

los borrachos (fun fact: i saw the painting it’s named after irl and i was like. sick csh reference museo del prado)

SOULS. !!!!

maud gone both versions. sweetheart please love me too long

sleeping with strangers. i love to have fun

anchorite (love you very much). i get my feelings hurt by someone i love i listen to this song like. YOU SON OF A BITCH!!! YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!! call it catharsis

and that’s literally the whole album except for one song. im sorry

twin fantasy (which is two albums but. it’s really just one which is very meta of it/them imo. also unless i specify im talking about both versions):

B O D Y S

famous prophets. both versions make me feel breathless

beach life-in-death OBVIOUSLY

twin fantasy (those boys) and i think both versions really mean so so much together which is true of all of twin fantasy but. particularly here it hits me like. from he has only lyrics now to these are only lyrics now. it’s a lot

my boy (more the 2018 version)

nervous young inhumans (the 2011 version. for the monologue like. he defined twin fantasy. also the fact that galvanistic isn’t a real word he just fucked up and that’s the chorus)

high to death (more the 2018 version but both are great)

honestly sober to death for the don’t worry you and me wont be alone no more which is. so much. ALSO when they play sober to death/powderfinger and ethan does great vocals

cute thing (2018)

my back is killing me baby

no passion. he wants a man who would hate him and who would leave him if he were open and he’d do the same to him. he dreams he watches porn but he cant see it. he understands some ugly ass feelings

father, flesh in rags. it bangs

strangers but the teens of style version

happy news for sadness cause once again he says the ugliest shit (i liked you better when you hated yourself every time i think about love i think about me thinking about you) and it makes me think of that shit about how people will disclose they think they’re bad and they have bad thoughts when they’re going to ask to be loved. also you can never tell the truth but you can tell something that sounds like it

the drum. did i say i love to have fun? i love to have fun (both versions but i think i like the original more at least rn)

stoop kid

something soon (both versions)

starving while living:

it’s only sex

reuse the cells

devil moon

i hate living

literally all other csh shit cause i don’t listen to many songs from the first records :/ and stuff:

i can talk with my eyes shut

the ghost of bob saget. the lyrics to this song are hilarious and relatable somehow

i have to mention i am afraid of literally everything / i scream social / this one time I went to a coffee house because some guy I knew was playing and I just sat there for an hour and didn’t talk to anyone and then I came home and wrote this song / you have to go to college / it’s you you’re the asshole that made this but literally only cause i felt like laughing when i was 18 and finally got around to checking out csh and he was like. i wrote these songs about when i went to college and i was afraid of everything and shit was hard. cause like. same. and i just have a fond memory of going through csh’s entire discography from newest to oldest and ending up awake till almost 7am losing my mind. i feel like this about lots of songs from the first 5 albums but i don’t really listen to them much tho. someday i’ll get around to giving them a chance again

that thing someone made where they put together pain star (if heaven is full of people…) and …then it will be exactly the same as earth

does it feel good (to say goodbye?)

and their cover of hey ya even though it’s not a csh song. im mad no one has posted a proper recording of it because i do love to have fun. also their cover of this must be the place too. and the cover of waves of fear also. they’re all really fun

#answered #csh #car seat headrest #im terrible at picking things as you can see #anonymous

39 notes · View notes

mirkwoodshewolf · 5 years

Text

Somebody to love pt.2 ; Queen x reader x oc male

*Author’s note*

Okay people we have unfortunately reached the last update for the day. Now again I hope to have the next chapter up by my bday hopefully but I can’t make any promises cause I’ve got papers due in all my classes in the upcoming weeks all this month.

Now after the emotional roller coaster that I put you all through the last chapter, I bring you a FLUFFY fic. But I want you all to do something for me. I have linked in the fic the Queen concert from Montreal 1981 the full length version of the song Somebody to love, I want you ALL TO watch and listen to it if you can cause it will help with what I had in mind, especially towards the end of the fic. TRUST ME YOU’LL THANK ME LATER. Thank you all for that and I hope you all have enjoyed the binge reading that I have given you guys my lovely readers, followers and tagged people. Hope it lighten ups your day like Queen themselves.

Taglist (as usual open)

@onebigfangirlworld

@mr-badguymercury

@phantom-fangirl-stuff

@labessieisallama

@starswin

@naturalswifty89

@isabella-bby

@dj-lowkey

@5sos-wdw

________________________________________________

*February 14th, 1984*

I woke up in my hotel room to feel arms wrapped around my waist. I moaned tiredly until I felt those arms wrap around me tighter bringing me closer to the person’s chest before I felt a series of delicate and gentle kisses go up my neck. I smiled which in turned woke me up as I turned to see Jack.

The sun peeking through the white curtains made him look like an angel sent from heaven.

“G’morning.” He said with a smile.

“Morning,” he kissed my temple and I moaned out. “Ohh I can’t believe I still get to wake up next to you.”

“I hope you mean that as a compliment otherwise I’m offended.”

“Of course it’s a compliment you rotter! In fact that’s the highest compliment you will ever get from me.” I teased as I turned around and faced him.

God I can’t believe its been six months since we started dating each other and nine months since we first met at that bar. I can’t believe that I managed to snag me a really great guy who has made me feel so much love in just one look than Adam ever did in the first three months.

“How did I ever get so lucky to get you as mine?” I said as I cupped his face in my hand.

“Just right place right time, I’m really glad I went into that bar that day. Literally the best night of my life.” I awed at him as our foreheads touched then just before we were about to kiss, the door knocked loudly and I heard Freddie’s voice say.

“You two better not be fucking in there!”

“Fuck off Fred!” I yelled at him.

“Naughty, naughty language darling, whatever happened to my sweet little Rock angel?” I rolled my eyes and got up. I was wearing Jack’s Led Zeppelin shirt and nothing else, I went ahead and unlocked the door and opened it just a crack as I said.

“What do you want Fred? It’s 9am and not even you are up this early?”

“Remember darling we have an early sound check to get to because apparently new management for Madison Square Garden fucked up the last show and I don’t want a repeat of the Rainbow 74 concert regarding power failure, less we get a temperamental Roger on our hands.”

“Alright let us get ready and we’ll meet you boys down in the lobby.” I shut the door and I turned back towards Jack and said. “You heard the hysterical queen, so I shower first then you?”

“Why not shower together? We’d save water that way.” Jack said with a suggestive smirk. I playfully tossed my pillow at him.

“You’re even dirtier than Roger.” I laughed as I headed into the bathroom and proceeded to get myself cleaned up before the concert tonight.

Later that day we arrived at Madison Square Garden and the minute I walked on stage, it felt like I was transported back in time to just 3 years ago when Freddie brought me up on stage to perform my first song. God I can’t believe it was just 3 years, it felt longer than that but I am so grateful to once again grace this stage once more as a popular Rockstar instead of a new star.

“Brings back memories doesn’t it?” I turned around to see Freddie standing behind me.

“I still can’t believe it’s only been three years, it feels like a lifetime ago.”

“You’ve come such a long way since then darling, and the boys and I couldn’t be prouder of you.” I smiled as I felt Fred’s arms wrap around me and he gave me a quick kiss at the top of my head as he swayed me gently from side to side.

Later on in the day, Fred and I were doing some vocal warmups together while the rest of the boys were finishing up getting dressed and ready for the concert. Jack was sitting on the couch right beside Deacy as he was giving him another tutoring tip on the bass guitar.

Soon one of the stage handlers told us that we had five minutes left till the show began. Deacy and Jack cut the tutoring short and the boys and I left our dressing room and as we hung out backstage I got myself pumped up and ready for the show, holding my gifted red special that Brian gave me in Japan ready to go on first.

As the lights went off and the crowd cheered loudly, I began playing my first song “Who I am” and the concert officially began.

The concert went on successfully and now I had come up along with the boys as well as Jack to do a combine duet of singing “Somebody to love”.

“Thank you everyone, this next song is our Rock Angel’s favorite and we’re so proud to welcome a new bassist. He’s been a couple of the shows already and he’s very special to our little angel, please give it up for Mr. Jack Kline!” Jack soon came out onto the stage and waved to the crowd. I smiled at him and we both hugged each other as Freddie sat down at the piano and began to start the song.

Play concert *REQUIRED*

*Freddie*

Can anybody find me somebody to love?

Each morning I get up I die a little Can barely stand on my feet

Take a look in the mirror and cry

Lord, what you're doing to me I have spent all my years in believing you I just can't get no relief, Lord! Somebody (somebody) ooh somebody (somebody) Can anybody find me somebody to love?

I then came up to the microphone and I began singing while my boys backed me up.

*Me*

I work hard (she works hard) every day of my life I work 'til I ache in my bones At the end (at the end of the day) I take home my hard earned pay all on my own I get down (down) on my knees (knees) And I start to pray 'Til the tears run down from my eyes Lord, somebody (somebody), ooh somebody Can anybody find me somebody to love?

I held the note and gave it a nice vibrato as Roger pounded the drums and at the next verse I gave it a little more soul as I put my body more into the song as I strutted across the stage. At the ‘yeah, yeah’ part I pounded my fist in the air and could see from the lights people following my lead.

*Me*

(She works hard every day) Every day

I try and I try and I try But everybody wants to put me down They say I'm going crazy They say I got a lot of water in my brain Ah, got no common sense I got nobody left to believe in Yeah yeah yeah yeah

Brian then began the guitar solo coming up front of the stage. I smiled and joined along side him, the two of us keeping eye contact with each other occasionally smiling at each other as Fred soon came up and sang the next part while we backed him up.

*Freddie*

Oh, Lord Ooh somebody, ooh somebody Can anybody find me somebody to love?

Got no feel, I got no rhythm I just keep losing my beat (you just keep losing and losing) I'm OK, I'm alright (he's alright, he's alright) I ain't gonna face no defeat I just gotta get out of this prison cell One day (someday) I'm gonna be free, Lord!

Roger pounded the drums in a steady beat as I raised my hands in the air and began clapping to the rhythm of Rog’s drumbeats. The crowd echoed me back and Fred soon said in the mic.

“Alright New York we want to see all those hands. Every single person clapping along. Three. Four!” At the bridge we all sang along and I could hear the crowd singing back to us.

I would look towards Jack and he’d wink at me and I’d do the same by blowing him a quick kiss as I went back to singing getting ready for my solo.

Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love love love Find me somebody to love Find me somebody to love Somebody somebody

Somebody somebody Somebody find me Somebody find me somebody to love

Can anybody find me

*Me*

Somebody to

I felt Jack’s hand then take mine and when I turned to face him, I noticed that he now had the bass guitar behind him and he was down on one knee. Deacy then quickly gave him his microphone and Jack said into the microphone as the song suddenly stopped.

“(Y/n), words cannot describe what being with you these past several months have been like. But the one thing I knew that mattered was that you have made me happier than I ever thought I could be. And—and if you let me, I want to spend the rest of my life trying to make you feel the same way,” it was then Jack pulled out from his pocket a small black box.

The crowd all gasped and cheered as Jack opened the box and inside of it was a beautiful sterling silver engagement ring. I held my hands to my mouth as he finally finished.

“(Y/n) (l/n) my Rock Angel, will you marry me?”

*Jack’s POV*

I finally did it, I finally worked up the courage to finally propose to (y/n). I can still remember back to when I first asked each member of Queen for their blessing before I did this, wanting to do this properly. And thanks to the guys, this wouldn’t even be happening.

~Flashback to 2 weeks ago in Seattle, Washington~

We had just gotten done with the Seattle concert. God I was so nervous but I knew I had to tell them, it’d be wrong not to ask them, they’re practically her family since she’s told me her parents are gone and her aunt and uncle disowned her for pursuing a music career in college.

I found Deacy cleaning up his bass guitar when I approached him.

“Hey Deacy,” he looked up and said.

“Ahh Jack come in, come in I was just cleaning up my bass before I packed her up. Hey great job out there on your first performance, I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, hey John can I—can I ask you something?”

“Sure what is it?” My heart pounded and I was just about to race out of that room faster than a cheetah but I couldn’t back out of this, otherwise I may not get another ounce of courage to ask them again.

“Actually it’s something the rest of the guys need to hear, but not (y/n).”

“Of course, come on let’s head into the dressing room, they’re all probably still in there.” He set his bass guitar into its case and he lead me down the hallways towards the Queen dressing room. Once we got there, Freddie and Roger were in their bathrobes and Brian was wiping his head with a towel of the sweat from the show.

“Ahh there he is. Jackie darling you and (y/n) were amazing up there!” Freddie proclaimed.

“Thanks Freddie.” I said with a smile.

“So you got the adrenaline rush yet kid?” asked Roger.

“A bit, is that what it’s like after you play for thousands of people?” I asked.

“Every night, your lovely lady can tell it better after her first performance.” Said Brian.

“Lads, Jack has something he’d like to tell us.” With that the boys of Queen gave me their full attention as they all sat down and looked right at me.

“Okay well……umm ehehe, well I know it hasn’t been a long time since we’ve been dating and hell it’s barely been a year since we’ve known each other but. I really, really care about (y/n) and….with each of your blessings. I would…..I want to ask (y/n) to marry me.” They each looked at me intensely.

Ahh shit, I guess I should’ve waited.

The boys were silent as they each looked at me with either stoic faces, or wide eyes. Brian who was one of the stoic ones said as he inhaled a breath of air.

“Could you give us a moment, please Jack?” I looked at him and he did his usual quick eyebrow quirk as a way to emphasize his point. Without saying another word, I got up from my seat and left their dressing room shutting the door behind me and waited.

*3rd Person POV*

The second Jack shut the door, Deacy turned to Brian and said.

“Why’d you do that?”

“I just wanted to see if he’d do it.” Brian joked. Roger scoffed out a chuckle. “So…..what do you guys think?”

“I honestly hoped this day wouldn’t come.” Said Roger.

“But it was inevitable Roger dear, we knew this day had to come.” Stated Freddie.

“But why did it have to come so soon?” Roger whined out. The boys then looked at each other in silent deliberation.

*Jack’s POV*

It felt like an eternity had passed by but when I looked down at my watch it was just ten minutes. I sat beside the dressing room along the wall when I heard the door open. I quickly stood up and straightened myself out and Deacy soon came out, his hands in the pocket of his jacket.

“Will the defendant please reenter the court room? We the jury have reached our final decision.” I swallowed heavily but followed him back inside. Deacy set me back down at the chair that now stood in front of the couch where Brian and Deacy took his seat beside him, Roger sat at my right while Freddie was to my left.

“We’ve decided…..” Roger started. I turned towards him anticipating what would happen, “What did we decide?” he questioned as he turned to Deacy.

“Jack; you know that (y/n) has no other family member living or accepting of her choices. We the band members of Queen came to look at her as either a daughter, niece or sister the first day she came to us as an intern. And out of any boy in the world she could’ve chosen, any guy who would come to us to ask her for her hand in marriage…..we’re glad that it’s you.” Deacy said. I looked at my mentor to see a smile spread across his face as he said, “It’s a yes from me.”

My heart skipped a beat.

“You’ve made her happier than we’ve ever seen her Jack. You both clearly belong together. You have my approval.” Brian stated with a gentle smile as well. A smile soon came across my face and I felt a hand at my shoulder. I turned to see Freddie standing over me and he said.

“It’s obvious our little Rock Angel loves you, and you clearly love her. Just make sure you give her the ring she deserves when you tell her.” I nodded and that’s when all of our attention turned to Roger.

Out of the four members of Queen, it was Roger’s approval I was seeking for the most. He’s acted like a father to (y/n), and I knew that if I didn’t win his approval, then this proposal wouldn’t happen until he said he accepted me. Because I could never make her choose between the guys and me.

“Oh it’s my turn now?”

“Come of it Roger and just say it! You’re leaving the poor boy in suspense!” Freddie groaned out. Roger sighed heavily and he said.

“(Y/n) has been my partner in crime, my sidekick, my best girl. I’ve seen her as my daughter and yet I share no blood ties with her whatsoever. I’ve looked after her for what feels like her entire life even though it’s only been 4 years. And I almost can’t bear to let her go so soon.” He stopped right there leaving me in anticipation.

Silence rang throughout the dressing room except for the light hums of the AC. That’s when Roger looked me dead in the eye and said.

“But I think it’s time for me to finally step down, and let a new man take my place.”

At that moment, I knew what he meant.

Roger may not be the sentimental type, except towards (y/n) but hearing him call me a man instead of kid like he’s had since the beginning, I knew I had his acceptance.

I breathed out so much air, I thought I was going to pass out. I couldn’t believe it. I had gotten Queen’s approval, (y/n)’s brother, uncles and father figures approval to marry her.

“Welcome to the family Jack!” Freddie cheered as he picked me up and immediately embraced me. I let out a soft laugh as I hugged him back and that’s when Brian came up to me and the two of us hugged it out. He patted my back and I did the same to him when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to come face to face with Deacy.

Brian stepped back and Deacy shook my shoulder before bringing me into a hug as he said in my ear.

“I told you, bass players always get the girl.” As we separated he gave me a quick wink and a grin telling me that he somehow knew this would all happen. It was then Roger and I now stood face to face with each other.

Roger extended his hand out to me and I accepted what he wanted. I took his hand and the two of us shook on it, but suddenly I felt his arm wrap around me and was actually being hugged my Roger Taylor.

“Look after her for the both of us, promise me you’ll do that.” I heard his whisper to me.

“I promise.” I vowed.

It was after that they helped me with the best way to propose and that would be at the very first show (y/n) performed at, Madison Square Garden and since they were performing on Valentines day, it would be twice as romantic just like in a fairytale according to Freddie.

They also helped me pick out the perfect ring by going in disguise to the jewelers with me to pick out the perfect ring and I managed to get me a sterling silver engagement ring with a big sized diamond ring at the center and engraved at the sides were mini diamonds with an intertwined band.

~End of Flashback 1st POV~

I couldn’t believe it. Jack was proposing to me right here, right now. Tears spilled down my face as smiled widely and I nodded not trusting my voice.

At my answer, the entire stadium went wild as Jack took the ring out and placed it on my left ring finger. Once it was on, he stood up and I wrapped my arms around him kissing him with as much passion as I could before embracing him as the two of us swayed and the boys went straight to the last verse of the song.

Both Roger and Freddie alternating between the lead vocals. Freddie would scatter some parts of the lyrics while Roger kept on beat with the amazing background vocals.

*Roger (Fred)*

Find me (find me)

Somebody to love (somebody to love) Find me

Somebody to love (To love, to love, to love)

Find me somebody to love (Ooh)

Find me somebody to love

(Can you find me, find me, find me, find me)

Find me somebody to love

Somebody to love (Ooh, somebody to love) *Fred (Roger)*

Somebody to love (Yeah) Find me, find me, (Yeah, yeah)

Find me somebody to love *Roger*

Yeah, yeah

By the end of the song, the boys rocked out hard. Roger played a long ending solo, Brian had his guitar carry the rift of the last part of the song for what felt like forever, Freddie banged on the piano with his forearm before leaving it and going towards Roger and doing their little stage acts they always do toward each other as Roger kept hitting the cymbals rapidly.

Once the song ended, people were roaring with applause, cameras were flashing and Freddie soon gestured towards Jack and me.

“Ladies and gentlemen give it up for Mr. and Mrs. Kline!”

After the concert was over, there was a small celebration for the engagement, Freddie giving out a small toast to Jack and I at a nearby bar. And after the celebration, Jack had a mixtape playing on the stereo and for the rest of the night we swayed in a gentle dancing holding onto each other before ending it cuddling together in the bed.

50 notes · View notes

ecotone99 · 5 years

Text

[AA] Keep the Change Kid

WARNING: Contains swearing and sexual references.

Introduction: This is a chapter from a mostly finished novel I wrote 10 years ago. Time restrictions and especially a huge amount of editing yet to be done have prevented me from completing the project, though I do fully intend to finish it before my time on planet Earth is up, which may well be sooner than I would prefer. At any rate, the plot of the novel is as follows; after shooting Condoleeza Rice (remember her?) in the head with a sniper rifle, a lone and expert assassin is being hunted by the dark forces of one government or another. These hunters are led by an individual going by the cover-name of “Mom”. Mom is a British ex-secret service operative with SAS and a “diplomatic” background in South-east Asia, among other locales. He is a very tough and capable individual (picture someone like the actor, Charles Dance, perhaps best known for playing Tywin Lannister in Game of Thrones). He employs a band of Russian/Chechen ex-military/FSB operatives, particular in their capacity for violence and ruthlessness. The assassin they are hunting is a young half Asian/half Caucasian woman of exceptional beauty and grace, as well as cold-blooded focus and precision in the trade she has assumed for herself. She goes by the cognomen of “The Angel of Death”. A tacky cliche of a name to be sure, but this was not intended to be permanent, but rather only a working handle for her as I developed the plot. She is being protected by a type of guardian angel named Aidan. Aidan is a wise-cracking smart-ass type, unique in that he was brought back from the dead by the “Heavenly Powers That Be” (whomsoever those might be), for the express purpose of protecting the life of our lovely assassin.

The novel’s plot is set in and around Vancouver, British Columbia during the unfortunate reign of George W. Bush, one of my favourite whipping boys at the time. This chapter (and the following one) deals with one of Mom’s operatives named Anton. Anton is a hapless Russian of limited intelligence and unlimited violence. On orders from Mom he is trailing a couple travelling north from Vancouver on the way to Pemberton BC in a pick-up truck during a lengthy and ferocious summer storm. Anton thinks this couple are the assassin and her guardian angel Mom and his crew have been tasked to take out. He will discover many things during this long, stormy night and the following day.

If any readers of this story indicate a desire to read the next chapter in this drama, please comment to that effect and I will post that under the title of “For Morons Like You” forthwith.

Hope you enjoy the read. Cheers, Popeye Le Pew.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

‘Come on ya prick… hurry-up fer chrissakes… I'm gettin soaked here, eh!?’, a woman’s raspy voice, punctuated by a burst of desperate, phlegmy coughing, calls out in the night.

‘Yeah, yeah. Keep yer friggin panties on will ya, I gotta piss’, a man’s booze-slurred voice barks back.

Anton, lost deep in a dream of perplexing dimension, is rudely awakened from an uneasy sleep by the loud drunken voices just outside his Pathfinder.

‘I ain't wearin no panties.’

‘Well then keep yer bra on.’

Disoriented and groggy, Anton looks around trying to blink the sleep out of his brain and trying hard to figure out where in the Hell he is.

‘I ain't wearin one of them neither. Let’s go Stud, its takin ya longer to piss than it did to blow yer load, eh?’

It comes to him after a moment or two and he curses the one that put him here: MOM! Fucking Mom!! Ублюдок!!! Anton is in fact in the parking lot of the Chieftain Pub in Squamish, BC. ‘If is not asshole of world, is sure smell like”, he’d scowled as he drove into town earlier that day. The paper mill just across Howe Sound bestowed “a certain something” to the Squamish air. Though he doesn’t realize it, he's been fast asleep for the past couple of hours… with the truck’s engine idling.

The wind is still howling like a troop of drunken banshees and the torrential rain that was falling when he’d arrived hasn’t let up, but rather seems to have increased in intensity. The voices are coming from the right and, leaning across the passenger seat, Anton wipes a narrow strip of condensation from the window. He can see a man and a woman by a pick-up with “Pemberton Spud Farms” on the driver-side door. “Is where cell-phone signals come from, for sure.” In the downpour, he can’t quite make out if they’re the same two people in the photos Mom gave him, but it is the truck he’s been looking for.

The man finally finishes relieving himself, opens the driver’s door and climbs into the pick-up. He rolls his window down and spits before leaning over to unlock the passenger door. The woman climbs in saying, ‘about friggin time, eh! Couldn’t ya have pissed before we come out?’

‘Couldn’t you shut the fuck up?’

‘Close yer goddamn window, I'm friggin cold.’

‘Ah quit yer bitching,’ he says, lighting a cigarette and tossing the match out the window.

‘I wanna stop at the Mickey D’s to get some grub.’

‘Fuck that, I ain't stopping till we put some miles behind us.’

‘Come on ya cheap prick, I’m hungry and it’s a long ride to Mount Currie, eh? Be nice to me and maybe I’ll blow ya on the way up.’

It was an offer he wasn’t about to refuse. It’s a long drive up to Mount Currie after all.

‘Yeah, yeah OK, we can stop at the slop-shop up on the highway.’

‘Alrightee then Stud, but yer buyin, eh?’

‘Sure. That’s me, last of the big-time spenders,’ he says as he fires-up the engine and drives to the parking-lot exit, spitting out the window again and planting a large gob on the hood of the Pathfinder as he drives by.

Anton waits for them to get ahead a bit and then pulls out after them, staying half a block behind the pick-up. Is not matter with the raining like this, they are not seeing nothing. They are the goddamns drunk anyways. Fucking shit, he thinks, wishing he were off somewhere, drunk himself with a hooker to take the edge off his blues instead of following these two through the driving rain in this god-forsaken stinking dump of a town. Anton does bad moods rather well.

Taking out his cell-phone he tries calling Mom again, but doesn’t make a connection. ‘Is the bullshits’, he snarls. The pick-up stops by the intersection at the highway and turns north. Anton comes up to the flashing traffic signal, waits for a couple of cars to go by and then follows. Up ahead, just past the main intersection, the pick-up slows, turns into a McDonald’s lot and lines-up in the drive-thru lane. He pulls the Pathfinder over to the side of the highway and waits. Is going to being the long goddamns night, he thinks, watching as the driver gets out, walks around to the back and rummages around in the pick-up’s box. He removes something and deposits it in a garbage container by the take-out window. ‘What’s in fuck he is doing now?’, he mutters. The man then takes a sports-bag from the box, looks the cargo over and gets back into the cab. Though Anton can’t get a good enough look to compare him to the man in the photos, he thinks, must be is guy. Mom is saying he is having the sports-bag with him and is tall.

The cloying odour of hot grease and fried food wafts in through the heater blower and Anton’s stomach starts to growl. Though he hates American fast-food, Anton realizes he’s famished. He hasn’t eaten since before he left Vancouver and thinks, I am gotting to eat somethings, anythings.

Waiting until another car drives in behind the pick-up, he shrugs his shoulders and pulls into the McDonald’s lot, lining-up in the drive-thru lane and calling his order into the mike on the menu board when his turn comes up. Sitting there, compulsively cracking his knuckles, he sees the pick-up’s order being handed out from the take-out window. It then pulls ahead to the road, stops to let some traffic by and turns onto the highway. Shit!! Is better I not am losing this prick in pick-ups, Anton thinks and puts the transmission in reverse to pull out of the drive-thru line himself. Checking the rear-view mirror he curses seeing that two more cars have come up behind his, boxing him in. He’s stuck there and fidgets nervously, waiting for the car in front of him to get its order and get out of the way. Ahead, a hand holds a large fast-food bag out of the take-out window and remains suspended in mid-air, waiting for the driver of the car to take it. But the man appears to be having some kind of a problem with the transaction. He’s dropped his money on the ground.

‘Come on fucking motherfucker, you are hurrying ups. I don't am having all the fucking nights to waiting for you’, he calls out his window.

A man’s head emerges from the car’s window, completely ignoring the bag plainly being held out to him, and turns to glare at Anton. It is a large, curiously deformed head, perhaps the product of foetal alcohol syndrome. The head sticking out of the car window bears an exceptionally ugly face, sporting an exceedingly belligerent expression. And it looks only too eager for trouble. Anton has seen a number of unfriendly faces in the course of his life, starting with the band of mujahedeen fighters who came to kill his father, uncle and older brother when he was seven years old. That face in the car in front of him is even uglier and less friendly-looking than that of the FSB drill-instructor who made Anton’s already miserable life a living Hell. One of the most satisfying moments he ever had was when he put a bullet between the bastard’s eyes. The eyes on this guy’s face are having considerable trouble focusing. He’s obviously very drunk.

‘Eh!? What the fuck’s goin on buddy? Ya got yerself some kind of problem back there or what?’

Anton sticks his head out the window and looks at the guy, thinking, oh shits, now what is!!?

‘Who, me? You are meaning me? I not am was speaking at you, I am calling the friend who is go to washrooms for the pissing.’

The face continues to glare at him, it’s mouth hanging open and it’s eyes each looking in a different direction. It’s not buying Anton’s contrite explanation.

‘Zat right, eh? Sure sounds like yer having a little problem with me.’

‘No, no. Is cool, is completes cool.’

‘I could maybe fix that problem for ya… howboudit pal… ya wanna go, or what?’

‘No, no, is not the necessary, is not the problems with you. Is with the friend I am was calling. At washrooms. Not you. He is pissing the long times.’

‘Yeah? Well yer startin ta piss me off, pal!’

‘Is all the big mistakes. I am not here for the pissing-offs to you, I am come for Bigs Mac and fry, like you.’

‘Ya sound like yer some kinda foreigner. Zat what ya are, some kinda goddamn foreigner?’

Anton reaches over and takes his M88 from the glove-box and screws the silencer onto the barrel. He considers firing several rounds into that ugly drunk face glaring him right away, but remembering why he's there in the first place, puts the pistol on the passenger seat and pulls his jacket over it. He pokes his head back out the window, smiling with as much meekness as he can muster. Not an easy feat for Anton.

‘No, no I not am the goddamns foreigner like you are say, I am tourist. I not am being here for having the problems with good guys like you. Nice to be meeting you and visit your great city.’

‘What the fuck…? Yer a tourist? Ya sure you ain't got yourself no problem with me? Cuz if ya come looking fer one… I’m the guy fer ya alright!’

Fuckings Hell, this prick is not wanting to gives up, Anton thinks.

‘No, no, is no problems, you can believing to me. Is everything cool. Only with friend at washrooms, he is taking really long times for the pissing. You are the friendly Canadian guys, I am not having the problems with you. Really.’

‘Oh Yeah? Ya sure bout that?’

‘Yeah, is no problems, for sures.’

‘I mean, if ya wanna go… ya wanna go or what?’

‘Look mister guy, there is being your Bigs Mac and fry, they are wait for you. You are enjoying delicious hamburgers and having the nice evenings.’ You are fucking-offs now or I am shoot you in goddamns face, you prick, he thinks as his hand reaches for the locked and loaded M88 next to him.

The face looks at him, still trying hard to focus with limited success and then, somewhere in the remnants of his tiny pickled brain, the penny drops and he abruptly turns toward the hand holding the bag out to him. His head collides with it and he exclaims, ‘what the fuck!? Oh yeah right, my burgers.’ He looks down at the bills he dropped a moment ago, opens his door and reaches down to pick them up, grabs the bag the hand is holding and hands the hand his money. He takes his change and drops it on the pavement and says, ‘aw fuck-it!’, and closes the door again.

‘Hey… awright then buddy. So yer a tourist eh?’, he says looking at Anton again with a crooked grin on his stupid face.

Anton smiles and nods his head enthusiastically as he takes out a pen and paper. He jots down the car’s license-plate number thinking, I am fixing you later you сосунок петуха, you just are waiting.

‘Sure, you are rights-on, I am the tourist to you fantastics country Canada and I am visit you beautiful city Squamish this nights.’

‘Zat right? Huh, well whaddya know, a tourist!? Hey, I don't got me no problems with no tourists.’

‘OK mister guy, this is good… I don’ts gots the problem with you too.’

‘Aw that's great, that's just great!’ He turns to his companion beside him and says, ‘Ain't that just great baby? Guy’s a goddamn tourist.’ He sticks his head out the window once more, blinking his eyes as he tries to focus on Anton. ‘Well you have yerself a real nice time in our town there buddy, we gotta get goin now… welcome to Squamish, eh?’

‘Fucking crazy whacks-job,’ Anton says as the car pulls out to the exit and drives up the highway in the same direction the pick-up went earlier. He considers ignoring his own order and leaving immediately in pursuit of the pick-up, figuring it must be quite a ways up the highway by now. Screwing it, he thinks, pick-ups is not can be that far and I must am eating something, even if is this shit of McDonald, and moves up to the take-out window.

‘That’ll be twelve dollars and sixty-three cents please,’ says a skinny teenager with bizarrely pointed ears, buck-teeth and coke-bottle glasses somewhat too large for his face. He looks like a rabbit who’s parents could well be closely related, too closely perhaps. And, possibly being that particular fine dining establishment’s number one best customer, has really, really bad acne.

Holy cows, is the fucking Canadian mutant, Anton thinks, recoiling. He shakes his head, reaches over to take the bag the kid is holding out and hands him a fifty.

‘Oh, a fifty,’ the rabbit-kid says, holding the bill up to his glasses and squinting. ‘Don't you have anything smaller?’

‘No, is all I am gots. Make it fast kid, give to me the changes, I am in the big hurry.’

‘Well I don't have change for a fifty sir, you'll have to wait for my manager to come and break that bill for me.’

‘Where this goddamns manager is?’

‘He’s just in the men’s room.’

‘What he is does in there? Is jerks-off?’

‘I’m not really sure but I think he’s taking a long du…’

‘Is OK kid, I don't are needing to knowing of detail.’

‘If you’d like to pull into one of those parking slots off to your left to wait, he’ll be out to change that as soon as he’s done, sir.’

‘No! I not am having times for waiting of fucking manager to wiping asses of he. You are keeping of changes kid, buying yourself new head,’ Anton says and pulls out to the highway. He peers squinting through the driving rain, one hand on the steering wheel, the other holding a soggy, dripping burger on which he munches while trying to keep the Pathfinder steady in the howling wind. After several kilometres he finally sees the car that was in front of him at the drive-thru and what looks to be the pick-up’s tail-lights beyond it in the distance.

The weather has turned from really bad to atrocious. Anton finishes the now cold French fries and second triple burger and, feeling like he’s just been horribly violated, belches loudly. ‘Fucking Americanski garbage’, he scowls. Throwing the wrappers and bag out the window in disgust, he takes out his cell and tries calling Mom again but still can’t get a connection. He watches as the car from the drive-thru pulls out to pass the pick-up and smiles. Flipping his cell-phone open again, he dials 9-1-1 thinking, you wait Canadian cocksucker prick, is shits hitting the fans for you soon, and is connected after half a dozen rings.

‘This is emergency services, what area are you calling from?’

‘Yeah, I am driving on 99 Highway to the Whistlers.’

‘Exactly where on Highway 99 are you sir?’

‘Sure, you are right. I am exactly on 99 Highway.’

‘What part of Highway 99 are you travelling on at the present time?’

‘I am not knowing what is part, but is… you know, on way to the Whistlers, just north at Squamish.’

‘Do you have an emergency to report? What is the nature of your call please.’

‘Yeah sure is emergency, is why I am call you. What you are think, I am being lonely?’

‘Could you please tell me what is your emergency sir?’

‘There is the car just now, is passing really fast, is swerves like the crazy guys, almost crashing to me. I am seeing this car is passing of pick-ups ahead and almost is crashing to pick-ups too. Car is nearly drives in ditches.’

‘I see. And what would you like us to do?’

‘What kinds of question this is!!? I am thinking you are better to sending somebody for stopping this crazy guys before he is kill somebody.’

‘Were you able to get the license-plate number of the car sir?’

‘Yeah sure, I am getting. I am writing this down, just the minute, I am telling you number… OK, here goes… is VNG 642. You are getting this?’

‘VNG 642. Did you happen to take note of the make and model of the car as well sir?’

‘Is looking like the Chevy Blazer, old shit-box, lots rust. Brown maybes, yeah, colour is for sure brown.’

‘An older model Chevy Blazer, brown in colour with lots of rust, is that correct sir?

‘Yeah, that’s it, is what I am say to you. The old shit-box Chevy Blazer. Is the goddamns rusty buckets.’

‘And the vehicle is northbound on Highway 99, north of Squamish at the present time? Is that correct?’

‘Uh-huh, this is right. The 99 Highway, past of Squamish. Is driving north.’

‘What type of vehicle are you in sir? Are you the driver of this vehicle or are you a passenger?’

‘No, I am driver for sure. I am being all alones, is not no passengers here. And is the Pathfinder I am driving. Nissan.’

‘Is this your own vehicle sir?’

‘Vehicle of me? No, I am renting.’

‘A rented Nissan Pathfinder. Which year would that be sir? And what is the colour?’

‘Why are you ask me questions like this about car I am driving? Is the fucking pricks in goddamns shit-box Chevy Blazer who are drunks you must are worry for, not car of me.’

‘I require the information about your vehicle for my report sir. And I would appreciate your not using foul language when speaking to me.’

‘OK, I am being sorry for to say fucking at you and pricks and goddamns too, is no personal, I just am being nervous with this kind of dangerous drivers. I am scare he is killing me. Sorry lady.’

‘I understand sir. Can you tell me the year of the vehicle you're driving?’

‘What year is!? Is 2002! You don't are knowing this? Month is September in cases you don't are knowing this too.’

‘The vehicle sir, I am inquiring as to the age of the vehicle you're driving, not what the current year is. What is the year of that vehicle please?’

‘I don't am knowing. I am not asking guy at renting place what is year. Is not making the difference for me as long as is running. But colour is black.’

‘I see. Do you know the license-plate number of the vehicle?’

‘No, I don't am knowing. What this is, the fucking quiz-show? Oh sorry, I am forgets, you don't are liking the fucking. But OK, I can stopping car to having looking at plate numbers if you are wanting this.’

‘That won’t be necessary sir.’

‘Good, because is raining like the dog and cat. I am not wanting to gets wet like the duck.’

‘I understand. I’ll need to get your name sir.’

‘Name? Why for you are needing name of me?’

‘For our records sir, we require your name for our records.’

‘You are telling my names to the drunks guys in Chevy shit-box Blazer!!? I am rather you not are telling this. I not am want to having troubles with this drunks guys.’

‘No sir, you won’t be having any problems from that driver. Any information you give us will be kept strictly confidential.’

‘What this is meaning, strictly confidential?’

‘It means we do not give out the information that you provide us with.’

‘OK, if you are being sure.’

‘Yes sir, I'm sure. What is your name please?’

‘My name? You still are wanting to knowing name of me?’

‘Yes sir, what is your name please?’

‘Is Josef.’

‘Is that your surname or your given name sir?’

‘Giving name? I am just giving you name of me? Is Josef. You not are understanding my English?’

‘I can understand you perfectly sir. I just need to get your name.’

‘Josef, I am telling to you already.’

‘I will need to get your surname as well sir.’

‘What this is meaning, how you are saying? Sir-name?’

‘Surname refers to your second name, given name refers to your first name.’

‘I am already giving to you first names. But I am having four names. What you are calling other names?’

‘I need you to tell me your name, sir.’

‘Which names you are wanting first?’

‘Your first name sir.’

‘I am telling to you already, Josef. Is first names.’

‘I will need your surname as well sir.’

‘What name? Sir-name?’

‘Your family name.’

‘You are not wanting other names first? They are coming before the family name.’

‘Just your first name and your family name is all I require. What is your family name please sir.’

‘Stalin. Like Great Hero of Soviet Union who is squashing Hitler like the cockroach.’

‘Have you been drinking this evening Mr Stalin?’

‘Yeah sure. I am drinking delicious super-size Coca-colas with eating triple lousy cheeseburgers of McDonald and shitty fry. Is diet Coca-colas. Why you are caring what I am drinking?’

‘I meant have you been drinking any alcohol this evening Mr. Stalin.’

‘No, of courses I am not drinking no alcohols. I do not drinking the alcohols. Besides, is against law for drinking the alcohols and driving of cars. You are not knowing this!!?’

‘Yes Mr. Stalin, I am familiar with the law.’

‘Well I am sure hoping you are being familiar about drinking the alcohols and driving cars law. Is very big problem in my country. So, you are wants to knowing something elses?’

‘What is your address sir?’

‘I am visitor to your country. I am living at Moscow. You know in Russia? Used to be Soviet Union, but now we are calling Russia agains. Same places but name is different. You are wanting address in Moscow, Russia?’

‘Do you have an address here in Canada Mr. Stalin? A hotel or friends you're staying with perhaps?’

‘No, I am just flying at Vancouver today. I am not yet having time for to checking in hotels.’

‘What is your address in Moscow then sir?’

‘You are not telling address to drunks guys in car? I am not wanting to having no troubles. I am telling you this before. You have listen to me when I say this to you?’

‘Yes, I am listening to you Mr. Stalin. I promise you, you won’t have any trouble. Your address will remain in our confidential files. There's no need for you to be concerned. I only need it for my report.’

‘Is happens all times in Moscow. Guy I know is get shoot last year because he is giving address to police. In fucking head. Oh sorry, I am keep forget you don't are like fucking. Sorry lady.’

‘Yes well, we do things a little differently here in Canada Mr. Stalin. You don't need to worry about that happening.’

‘OK, you are sounding like the nice lady, I will trusting you. But oh boys, I am hope is not nobody waiting to shoot in head of me when I am comes home.’

‘If that should happen Mr. Stalin, you may rest assured it is not in any way connected with this call or the information you provide.’

‘Yeah sure. OK, I am giving to you address now. You are having the pens to write this down?’

‘Yes sir, I have a pen. You may go ahead and give me your address.’

‘Is Kremlin Apartments, number 622, 1942 Red Square Moscow. You are getting this?’

‘Kremlin Apartments number 622, 1942 Red Square Moscow, Russia, is that correct sir?’

‘Yeah sure, that’s is it.’

‘Is there a postal-code for that address?’

‘Of courses is being the postal-codes, but I am not remembering. I just am movings in.’

‘Well thank you very much for calling this in Mr. Stalin. We really appreciate it.’

‘You welcome. Is nice country this Canada you are having here. Maybe I am buying couple house in the Whistlers for girlfriend of me. Listen lady, I am hoping you are not minding for me to saying this, but you sure spending lots time asking the question to me. You don't think you should be getting off from phone now and catching drunks guys in shit-box Chevy?’

‘Yes sir. Enjoy your visit to Canada. You drive safely now. Good night Mr. Stalin.’

‘Yeah so longing lady.’

Several minutes later, two police cruisers come tearing up the highway behind him with their lights flashing and sirens blaring. Anton chortles with glee and pulls-over to let them pass and then resumes on down the dark highway. They should is taking cares of drunks prick from drive-thru of McDonald. It is not long before he comes up to the Chevy Blazer and cruisers by the side of the road. Slowing as he passes, he sees a couple of constables struggling to put a large hand-cuffed man into the back of one of the cruisers. ‘Is what you are gets for piss-off to Anton, you stupid fuck,’ he says laughing as he drives by.

Trying Mom again, he still cannot get a connection. Well, at least drunks prick from drive-thru back at Squamish has getting whats is comes to him. Is too bads I am not having the chances to shoot this prick in face of him, he thinks, I can trying Mom later, after fucking storm is finish. Is must havings to stops sometimes. Maybe is being the phonebooths on this bullshits highway to nowheres and I can call to Mom from there. Anton emits a sigh of dejected resignation and settles down to what he figures will surely be a long and uneventful drive down a dark deserted highway. (Just you wait Anton my lad, just you wait - ed)

submitted by /u/PopeyeLePew [link] [comments] via Blogger http://bit.ly/2Ypq0aF

#Blogger #Story

0 notes

readbookywooks · 7 years

Text

Newt took out a key and opened it up, then motioned for Thomas to enter. “There’s only a chair in there and nothin’ at all for ya to do. Enjoy yourself.”

Thomas groaned inwardly as he stepped inside and saw the one piece of furniture—an ugly, rickety chair with one leg obviously shorter than the rest, probably on purpose. Didn’t even have a cushion.

“Have fun,” Newt said before closing the door. Thomas turned back to his new home and heard the latch close and the lock click behind him. Newt’s head appeared at the little glassless window, looking through the bars, a smirk on his face. “Nice reward for breakin’ the rules. You saved some lives, Tommy, but ya still need to learn—”

“Yeah, I know. Order.”

Newt smiled. “You’re not half bad, shank. But friends or no, gotta run things properly, keep us buggers alive. Think about that while ya sit here and stare at the bloody walls.”

And then he was gone.

* * *

The first hour passed, and Thomas felt boredom creep in like rats under the door. By hour number two, he wanted to bang his head against the wall. Two hours after that he started to think having dinner with Gally and the Grievers would beat sitting inside that stupid Slammer. He sat and tried to bring back memories, but every effort evaporated into oblivious mist before anything formed.

Thankfully, Chuck arrived with lunch at noon, relieving Thomas from his thoughts.

After passing some pieces of chicken and a glass of water through the window, he took up his usual role of talking Thomas’s ear off.

“Everything’s getting back to normal,” the boy announced. “The Runners are out in the Maze, everyone’s working—maybe we’ll survive after all. Still no sign of Gally—Newt told the Runners to come back lickety-splickety if they found his body. And, oh, yeah—Alby’s up and around. Seems fine—and Newt’s glad he doesn’t have to be the big boss anymore.”

The mention of Alby pulled Thomas’s attention from his food. He pictured the older boy thrashing around, choking himself the day before. Then he remembered that no one else knew what Alby had said after Newt left the room—before the seizure. But that didn’t mean Alby would keep it between them now that he was up and walking around.

Chuck continued talking, taking a completely unexpected turn. “Thomas, I’m kinda messed up, man. It’s weird to feel sad and homesick, but have no idea what it is you wish you could go back to, ya know? All I know is I don’t want to be here. I want to go back to my family. Whatever’s there, whatever I was taken from. I wanna remember.”

Thomas was a little surprised. He’d never heard Chuck say something so deep and so true. “I know what you mean,” he murmured.

Chuck was too short for his eyes to reach where Thomas could see them as he spoke, but from his next statement, Thomas imagined them filling with a bleak sadness, maybe even tears. “I used to cry. Every night.”

This made thoughts of Alby leave Thomas’s mind. “Yeah?”

“Like a pants-wettin’ baby. Almost till the day you got here. Then I just got used to it, I guess. This became home, even though we spend every day hoping to get out.”

“I’ve only cried once since showing up, but that was after almost getting eaten alive. I’m probably just a shallow shuck-face.” Thomas might not have admitted it if Chuck hadn’t opened up.

“You cried?” he heard Chuck say through the window. “Then?”

“Yeah. When the last one finally fell over the Cliff, I broke down and sobbed till my throat and chest hurt.” Thomas remembered all too well. “Everything crushed in on me at once. Sure made me feel better—don’t feel bad about crying. Ever.”

“Kinda does make ya feel better, huh? Weird how that works.”

A few minutes passed in silence. Thomas found himself hoping Chuck wouldn’t leave.

“Hey, Thomas?” Chuck asked.

“Still here.”

“Do you think I have parents? Real parents?”

Thomas laughed, mostly to push away the sudden surge of sadness the statement caused. “Of course you do, shank. You need me to explain the birds and bees?” Thomas’s heart hurt—he could remember getting that lecture but not who’d given it to him.

“That’s not what I meant,” Chuck said, his voice completely devoid of cheer. It was low and bleak, almost a mumble. “Most of the guys who’ve gone through the Changing remember terrible things they won’t even talk about, which makes me doubt I have anything good back home. So, I mean, you think it’s really possible I have a mom and a dad out in the world somewhere, missing me? Do you think they cry at night?”

Thomas was completely shocked to realize his eyes had filled with tears. Life had been so crazy since he’d arrived, he’d never really thought of the Gladers as real people with real families, missing them. It was strange, but he hadn’t even really thought of himself that way. Only about what it all meant, who’d sent them there, how they’d ever get out.

For the first time, he felt something for Chuck that made him so angry he wanted to kill somebody. The boy should be in school, in a home, playing with neighborhood kids. He deserved to go home at night to a family who loved him, worried about him. A mom who made him take a shower every day and a dad who helped him with homework.

Thomas hated the people who’d taken this poor, innocent kid from his family. He hated them with a passion he didn’t know a human could feel. He wanted them dead, tortured, even. He wanted Chuck to be happy.

But happiness had been ripped from their lives. Love had been ripped from their lives.

“Listen to me, Chuck.” Thomas paused, calming down as much as he could, making sure his voice didn’t crack. “I’m sure you have parents. I know it. Sounds terrible, but I bet your mom is sitting in your room right now, holding your pillow, looking out at the world that stole you from her. And yeah, I bet she’s crying. Hard. Puffy-eyed, snotty-nosed crying. The real deal.”

Chuck didn’t say anything, but Thomas thought he heard the slightest of sniffles.

“Don’t give up, Chuck. We’re gonna solve this thing, get out of here. I’m a Runner now—I promise on my life I’ll get you back to that room of yours. Make your mom quit crying.” And Thomas meant it. He felt it burn in his heart.

“Hope you’re right,” Chuck said with a shaky voice. He showed a thumbs-up sign in the window, then walked away.

Thomas stood up to pace around the little room, fuming with an intense desire to keep his promise. “I swear, Chuck,” he whispered to no one. “I swear I’ll get you back home.”

CHAPTER 31

Just after Thomas heard the grind and rumble of stone against stone announce the closing of the Doors for the day, Alby showed up to release him, which was a huge surprise. The metal of key and lock jingled; then the door to the cell swung wide open.

“Ain’t dead, are ya, shank?” Alby asked. He looked so much better than the day before, Thomas couldn’t help staring at him. His skin was back to full color, his eyes no longer crisscrossed with red veins; he seemed to have gained fifteen pounds in twenty-four hours.

Alby noticed him goggling. “Shuck it, boy, what you lookin’ at?”

Thomas shook his head slightly, feeling like he’d been in a trance. His mind was racing, wondering what Alby remembered, what he knew, what he might say about him. “Wha—Nothing. Just seems crazy you healed so quickly. You’re fine now?”

Alby flexed his right bicep. “Ain’t never been better—come on out.”

Thomas did, hoping his eyes weren’t flickering, making his concern obvious.

Alby closed the Slammer door and locked it, then turned to face him. “Actually, nothin’ but a lie. I feel like a piece of klunk twice crapped by a Griever.”

“Yeah, you looked it yesterday.” When Alby glared, Thomas hoped it was in jest and quickly clarified. “But today you look brand-new. I swear.”

Alby put the keys in his pocket and leaned back against the Slammer’s door. “So, quite the little talk we had yesterday.”

Thomas’s heart pounded. He had no idea what to expect from Alby at that point. “Uh … yeah, I remember.”

“I saw what I saw, Greenie. It’s kinda fadin’, but I ain’t never gonna forget. It was terrible. Tried to talk about it, somethin’ starts choking me. Now the images are gettin’ up and gone, like that same somethin’ don’t like me remembering.”

The scene from the day before flashed in Thomas’s mind. Alby thrashing, trying to strangle himself—Thomas wouldn’t have believed it had happened if he hadn’t seen it himself. Despite fearing an answer, he knew he had to ask the next question. “What was it about me—you kept saying you saw me. What was I doing?”

Alby stared at an empty space in the distance for a while before answering. “You were with the … Creators. Helping them. But that ain’t what got me shook up.”

Thomas felt like someone had just rammed their fist in his abdomen. Helping them? He couldn’t form the words to ask what that meant.

Alby continued. “I hope the Changing doesn’t give us real memories—just plants fake ones. Some suspect it—I can only hope. If the world’s the way I saw it …” He trailed off, leaving an ominous silence.

Thomas was confused, but pressed on. “Can’t you tell me what you saw about me?”

Alby shook his head. “No way, shank. Ain’t gonna risk stranglin’ myself again. Might be something they got in our brains to control us—just like the memory wipe.”

“Well, if I’m evil, maybe you should leave me locked up.” Thomas half meant it.

“Greenie, you ain’t evil. You might be a shuck-faced slinthead, but you ain’t evil.” Alby showed the slightest hint of a smile, a bare crack in his usually hard face. “What you did—riskin’ your butt to save me and Minho—that ain’t no evil I’ve ever heard of. Nah, just makes me think the Grief Serum and the Changing got somethin’ fishy about ’em. For your sake and mine, I hope so.”

Thomas was so relieved that Alby thought he was okay, he only heard about half of what the older boy had just said. “How bad was it? Your memories that came back.”

“I remembered things from growin’ up, where I lived, that sort of stuff. And if God himself came down right now and told me I could go back home …” Alby looked to the ground and shook his head again. “If it was real, Greenie, I swear I’d go shack up with the Grievers before goin’ back.”

Thomas was surprised to hear it was so bad—he wished Alby would give details, describe something, anything. But he knew the choking was still too fresh in Alby’s mind for him to budge. “Well, maybe they’re not real, Alby. Maybe the Grief Serum is some kind of psycho drug that gives you hallucinations.” Thomas knew he was grasping at straws.

Alby thought for a minute. “A drug … hallucinations …” Then he shook his head. “Doubt it.”

It had been worth a try. “We still have to escape this place.”

“Yeah, thanks, Greenie,” Alby said sarcastically. “Don’t know what we’d do without your pep talks.” Again, the almost-smile.

Alby’s change of mood broke Thomas out of his gloom. “Quit calling me Greenie. The girl’s the Greenie now.”

“Okay, Greenie.” Alby sighed, clearly done with the conversation. “Go find some dinner—your terrible prison sentence of one day is over.”

“One was plenty.” Despite wanting answers, Thomas was ready to get away from the Slammer. Plus, he was starving. He grinned at Alby, then headed straight for the kitchen and food.

Dinner was awesome.

Frypan had known Thomas would be coming late, so he’d left a plate full of roast beef and potatoes; a note announced there were cookies in the cupboard. The Cook seemed fully intent on backing up the support he’d shown for Thomas in the Gathering. Minho joined Thomas as he ate, prepping him a little before his first big day of Runner training, giving him a few stats and interesting facts. Things for him to think about as he went to sleep that night.

When they were finished, Thomas headed back to the secluded place where he’d slept the night before, in the corner behind the Deadheads. He thought about his conversation with Chuck, wondered how it would feel to have parents say good night to you.

Several boys milled about the Glade that night, but for the most part it was quiet, like everyone just wanted to go to sleep, end the day and be done with it. Thomas didn’t complain—that was exactly what he needed.

The blankets someone had left for him the night before still lay there. He picked them up and settled in, snuggling up against the comforting corner where the stone walls met in a mass of soft ivy. The mixed smells of the forest greeted him as he took his first deep breath, trying to relax. The air felt perfect, and it made him wonder again about the weather of the place. Never rained, never snowed, never got too hot or too cold. If it weren’t for the little fact they were torn apart from friends and families and trapped in a Maze with a bunch of monsters, it could be paradise.

Some things here were too perfect. He knew that, but had no explanation.

His thoughts drifted to what Minho had told him at dinner about the size and scale of the Maze. He believed it—he’d realized the massive scale when he’d been to the Cliff. But he just couldn’t fathom how such a structure could have been built. The Maze stretched for miles and miles. The Runners had to be in almost superhuman shape to do what they did every day.

#MazeRunner

0 notes