Left, right.
Left, right.
My eyes focused on the windshield wipers as rain continued to pour, an occasional clap of thunder piercing the sky. The repetitive movement somewhat helped to ease my throbbing headache.
I melted under the blast of hot hair that blew from the AC unit, savoring the smell of peppermint that emitted from a paper tree bobbling above the center console.
For just a moment I felt... relaxed.
"You won't miss it?" Claude's soft voice broke through the patter of rain on the windshield, tearing me from my thoughts.
"Miss what?" I replied, glancing at the side of his face. The grin had gone from his face now, leaving nothing but a blank expression.
"Home."
I chewed on that thought for a moment. If we were strictly speaking about Ezra's life...
"No, I don't miss it."
Claude silently tapped the steering wheel of the car. "You don't seem to be scared."
"Do you want me to be?"
"No." Claude replied. "Do you think it's because you're still in shock?"
I don't suppose a normal child would know what that means, but I suppose a normal child also wouldn't be where I am now...
"Maybe..." I sighed. "Maybe I'll freak out later and bust down."
"Or maybe not." Claude finished for me.
"Or maybe not." I affirmed.
Claude turned to face me now. "I'd hate to see you die so soon after dropping you off."
I held my tongue, confused as to what to say. What kind of sentence was that?
"Thank you."
When in doubt, thank them for their thoughts.
"Hey," I began, interrupting Claude's weird interrogation, "is it okay if I turn on the radio?"
"Go for it." Claude nodded.
I turned on the radio, surprised to find it tuned onto a news channel.
"Tonight we have breaking news!" The broadcaster on the radio began. "Earlier this morning at 9 AM two robbers attempted to rob the Callisto Bank at Whatta Street Avenue."
"Every day it's breaking." Claude commented, speaking over the radio.
"It's a catchy headline." I replied.
"Not as catchy at the first time around." Claude turned down the radio. "What's your opinion on Fervor?"
Fervor? The Hero?
"I heard he's a vigilante beating up criminals." I said.
"And your thoughts?" Claude pressed on.
Was this a test?
"I don't know. I've never seen him in person."
Claude chuckled. "So you have to see them in person to get an impression on them." He looked at me with a mischevious grin. "Well, what's your opinion then? You've seen me in person. What's the verdict?"
"You're as social as you look."
Claude raised an eyebrow. "Was that a compliment or an insult?"
"An insult."
"Motherfucker." Claude laughed, turning up the radio once more. "I walked straight into that one."
I gave a small chuckle.
Claude, despite being a villain, was a somewhat decent character overall. As long as you followed his orders to a T, he didn't really mind what you did.
"All of a sudden Fervor appeared!" The radio host continued. "He beat up those criminals and sent them packing faster than the cops could."
"Damn shame." The female host responded. "Police can't even do their jobs right. We have to rely on vigilante justice fighters like Fervor."
"Ladies got a point." Claude agreed, nodding his head.
I forgot...
How could I forget?
Claude liked to talk over radios and television shows!
As long as I continued to allow this channel to play, Claude would continue to talk.
I clicked a random button on the radio.
Country music began to blare throughout the car.
Claude furrowed his brows. "Ain't really into Country, boy." He clicked another button, this time bringing it to a standard pop station.
"Neither am I." I hastily stated.
"I'm glad you have good tastes."
Just beyond the horizon a gas station came into view. "Starry's" it was called.
Now that I think about it, the writers never really did have a good naming sense...
"I'm thirsty." Claude stated. "Want to grab something to drink?"
"Didn't like my water?"
Claude snickered. "It was horrible." He said, moving on to the turn lane. "Come on, get yourself something cool like a Slurper."
"I prefer something warm."
Claude glanced at my neck. "Ah, because of this?" He made a circular motion with his hand around his own neck.
"Yeah."
"What'd you do to deserve that anyway?"
I paused.
There really wasn't a good answer for that. Ezra just... existed.
"Fa--Darron just felt like it." I corrected myself.
Claude clicked his tongue. "Discipline like that will spoil the bunch."
He parked in the parking lot, shutting off the car. "Well, let's go. Pick out what you want." Claude instructed, preparing to leave the car.
I grabbed onto his arm. "Wait."
Claude glared back, obviously offended by my sudden touch. I yanked my hand away and continued. "What about my neck?"
"What about your neck?" Claude asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You don't think anything's wrong with it?"
"It's just a neck." Claude huffed. "Now stop stalling and get out the car."
"You can't be serious." I gaped. "You don't think anyone will find it suspicious?"
"That you have a neck?"
"That it looks like shit!" I exclaimed.
Claude blinked. "Damn, didn't take you for the dramatic type." Claude straightened himself, facing me eye to eye. "I'm going to say this once, so listen close and listen well..."
He leaned in...
"You have a very handsome neck." Claude, after dropping that bomb shell, leaned back, opening the driver side door. "Now get the fuck out of my car."
I blinked in silent astonishment. That was it? Just like that? Here I was thinking he'd be a lot more thorough in his disguise as a Transport...
This time I complied, stepping out into the rain. I hurriedly stuffed my injured hand inside my pants pocket, silently cursing my luck. A clap of thunder broke the silence.
"Ooo, spooky." Claude chuckled, leading the way to the gas station. I followed closely behind, shivering underneath the downpour of rain, teeth beginning to chatter.
I stared at the back of his neck, watching as droplets of water beat against the collar of his suit. I couldn't understand why he didn't have an umbrella. Or, at least, a hood to shield from the rain. Wasn't he getting cold?
Luckily the gas station wasn't too far ahead...
A bell chimed as we made our way inside.
I couldn't help but to stop and stare, taking in the scene that greeted me.
Compact shelves that left thin rows of space was the first thing to stand out. A row of buzzing refrigerators were pressed up against the back wall, a dull light flickering in the right hand corner. Underneath said light was a battered door left ajar with the word "bathroom" plastered across. On the left hand side was a young woman leaned back in a flimsy plastic chair, legs kicked up on the counter, blowing a bubble of gum, a comic book magazine in her hands. Just above her head was a TV, stuck on another news station, this time about a different crime that had just passed. I stared at the footage displayed on the screen, reading the subtitles.
The set up was so stereotypical, so... reminiscent of a comic book or a movie set...
Pop.
The audible snap of gum bursting snapped me back to reality. I looked around. Claude was no where to be seen...
I sighed, walking up to a shelf, trying to press down the lingering sense of anxiety that arose.
I picked up a random comic book, flipping through the pages. This one seemed to be about a detective...
I placed the comic back onto the shelf, running my eyes across the different books. None of these were comics I had seen before.
All of these books were unique to this world...
For some reason, Claude's earlier words came to mind.
"You won't miss it?"
I drew in a quivering breath, fighting the urge to cry.
I think it's starting to kick in now.
I think I'm starting to realize just how screwed I really am.
Everyone I know, everything I knew, everything that I ever cared about was gone.
At this point in time, I was alone. I knew no one, I knew nothing, and the only things I cared about were non-existent.
That means no more spin offs of "Everlasting Dark".
No more talking to friends and co workers.
No more going to that one coffee shop just around the corner.
No more going to the dog park to play with Rover.
My bottom lip began to quiver uncontrollably.
No more Rover...
Tears burst forth like a tidal wave, breaking through the tough exterior I was trying so hard to maintain. I sobbed, hard, my wails catching the attention of the lady at the register.
"Yo, kid, you okay?" She called out, sliding her feet off the counter.
I'll miss it.
I miss it.
Oh God, I miss it so fucking much.
"What's wrong?" The lady asked, approaching from the counter.
"There it is." Claude's voice suddenly came out from behind. A quick crack followed his comment followed by the fizzle of soda in a can. Claude slurped his drink as I continued to sob. "Took you long enough."
"Is your son okay?" The lady asked Claude.
"He'll be fine." Claude said dismissively. "He'll get over it."
"He's crying pretty hard." She insisted.
"I'm ready to pay for my drink, by the way." Claude ignored her comment.
She looked at him warily before moving back to the register.
"I'll get you a pop." Claude ruffled my hair in passing, taking another sip from his drink.