ZPD 8.6

———–Disclaimer on this one.  For real… remember the title… that’s all I’m saying.—————————

My eyes were pretty damn heavy when I opened them the next morning.  Pete was just sitting there looking at me.  We were in his tree house.  He kept his aluminum baseball bat beside him.  I could see blood and bits of hair on it.  I wanted to cry.

"Did you know him?" he asked me.

"He was my dad" I told him

"I’m sorry" he said.  And that was all, for a good while.  The sun was already up, but I don’t think either of us really felt like moving.  Getting up, meant facing what was outside of his tree house.  I laid back and tried moving my eyes around.  I do that sometimes when I don’t feel like doing anything.  It’s just really hard to not do anything.  I have to do something.  So I look at things.  I checked out the wood used to build the fort.  Cheap plywood sheets and two by sixes.  There were initials carved into the wall.  N.K.  I didn’t ask who they belonged to.

Eventually Pete spoke again.

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen"

"You look younger."

"Well how old are you then?"

"Twenty two"

"Weird"

"I don’t look twenty two?"

"You look close enough.  I’ve just never met a twenty two year old with a tree house."

For some reason, that split me up.  I started to laugh, and just didn’t stop.  It took Pete a few seconds, but soon he was laughing just as loud as me.  I had to dry my eyes.

"So you see the same hell I see?" He asked.  It was a good question.  I’ve had nightmares that weren’t as terrifying.  The simple idea that all of this was real; it was almost too much to process.

"I see it.  What’s your story?"

"I was going to a baseball practice.  I play for the Kings here.  They’re triple A, you know?  Anyway, I was late for practice cause I’m generally almost always late.  Coach hates that.  If I wasn’t his best hitter he’d bust my ass.  So I show up, and the fields empty.  Real no show.  I wasn’t late enough to miss the entire practice, so I checked the gym next to the field just to see if anyone was there."

Pete hesitated for a bit.  His face looked gray.

"…there was guys just ripping at each other.  Nasty shit.  Just nasty.  Guys were raping guys, and then one of them sees me.  There’s just blood everywhere, ya know?  Blood is everywhere, and I’m thinking this shit is crazy.  So I run out of there, and two of them chase me out.  I’m just running.  I’m just running and then coach pulls up in his truck and sees me running.  He gets out and starts running toward me.  I didn’t even stop.  I booked it right past him.  When I turned around, those guys were doing the same thing to him.  I got back to my car, and I found my bella."

As he said so, Pete gripped on to his bat and held it closer to his chest.  It could have been a cat.

"I shouldn’t have gone back, but I did.  I killed both of them.  Kenny, and Wade.  I ran over 3 more psychopaths with the car on the way to my moms house.  I just wanted to make sure she was safe you know?  I couldn’t find her though.  My step dad Dave, was already dead.  He was laying in the kitchen.  I didn’t want to stay in the house, so I came out here."

I told him my story.  The short version of the one I’ve already told you.  He listened closely, and hummed whenever he heard something interesting.

"You’re a virgin ain’t you?" He asked.

"What?" I was.  At the time though, it was an odd question to ask.

"You are aren’t you." It was more of a statement, than a question.

"What does it even matter if I am or not?" I asked.

"Guys on my team were all popping red pills.  Practice before last, there was a big brawl.  A brawl at a practice.  Not always uncommon, especially if guys are juicing, but during the brawl Wade started dry humping a guy on the ground.  We pulled him off, and he acted like it was a joke.  You’re a virgin though, right?"

"I’m a virgin" I told him.  "Are you?"

"Ha! No."

"So why aren’t you a psychopath then?"

"I don’t need drugs to make me the best.  I don’t take steroids, I’m already the best.  I don’t need the red.", he smiled.  "I’m great in bed."

"The red pill is supposed to stop you from getting girls pregnant." I told him.

"So’s a rubber.  People never use them either."

It was a good point.  It was also a good theory.  A little loose on details at the time, but something that at least gave us some reason to go on.  Once you know the poison, you don’t swallow it.  Seemed simple.

"I’m hungry" I told him.

"There’s food in the house" he said.  He didn’t make a move to get up though.

"Aren’t you hungry?"

"I don’t want to go back in there."

"I know.  We just need to get some food, and maybe some bottles of water and hike it back up here."

"Let’s just go to a store."

"That’s way too dangerous.  C’mon.  You don’t even have to go in.  Just wait by the door."

He got up then, and came with me.  We lowered a rope ladder and climbed down.  As I got off the ladder, I could see my dads body.  It was just laying on the ground below us.  I was suddenly much more sympathetic to Pete.  I had a dad dead.  He had a dead dad, and he would feel the guilt of killing mine.

I left him at the front door and went inside the house.  The smell was disgusting.  There couldn’t have been an open window in the entire house.  It smelled of death.  I found the kitchen, and found Pete’s step father.  His face was obliterated.  I checked the fridge.  Grabbed some deli meat, and some cheese.  Took a few apples out, and grabbed two beers that were sitting in the door.  I wasn’t old enough to buy it, but I was sure old enough to enjoy it.