Diseased
OoO
The rain gets worse. They sandbag department stores. Tulsa residents stock their homes with food. The electric flickers at odd times and radio reception is spotty. Cars float down the streets.
Darry Curtis still hasn't fixed his basement. Soda doesn't have time.
The people in Tulsa get restless. The dark shrouds the city.
A man attacks his girlfriend outside of a Denny's.
A woman drowns her newborn child.
Liquor and gas stations are robbed.
Crops die. Cows. Horses.
It's all on the news.
It's not Iris this time. It's Pestilence, trying to rise.
OoO
"Your game's off, kid."
"Yeah, I know." Scowling, I lower my pool cue. I've missed every shot I've taken tonight. "Don't gotta rub it in."
Two-Bit waggles a brow. "And here I thought you were learning things from me, Ponyboy Curtis."
I snort "Ain't too sure about that, Two-Bit."
He lines up his shot and shatters the balls. Two of his solids hit corner pockets. The jukebox kicks on to Willie Nelson. Two-Bit's off his shift and wanting to get out of the house for a while I had come up here.
I groan, tossing down my pool cue, as he takes another shot that ends the game. "You owe me a beer, Ponyboy Curtis," he crows and shelves his cue.
"Lucky, you got lucky."
"Keep telling yourself that kid, if it'll make you feel better."
I laugh as he smiles goofily. I'm about to ask if he wants a rematch when the smile dies and his eyes crinkle. He's looking at something over my shoulder. Turning, I see two guys at the end of the bar throwing up. A cold chill runs down my spine. I take a step. It doesn't look like vomit, it looks like blood.
The bartender's on the phone, two guys in a corner booth are sweating buckets.
I put the pieces together. The next Black Fate – Pestilence – he or she or it is here. Somewhere.
We gotta get out of here, especially Two-Bit. I'm not sure about much, but it looks like it's spreading. My gut tells me that. I prop a hand on the pool table; faking sick's the fastest way to hurry my friend out of the bar without him trying to poke his nose into whatever's going on. I slump my shoulders.
"Two-Bit, I don't feel good."
He's there fast. Gripping my arm, he helps me straighten up and we walk to the door. "The last thing I need tonight is you passing out on me, kid. Especially in a bar. Glory, that'd be one to tell your brothers about."
He keeps his voice light but there's shakiness to it.
"Let's get you home."
OoO
Pony's smart for getting him and his friend out of the bar but Pestilence won't be delayed. He swoops from the shadows and follows them into the street. Watches as they climb into Two-Bit's busted truck.
I tag along too.
Keith's speeding along, nervously making conversation and keeping an eye on the child. Quiet, Ponyboy's face is lit up by the streetlamps. I can hear his thoughts, wondering what to do next. If they're in the clear.
They aren't.
They take a sharp turn and then it's in the road, darting quick and scattered. "Shit!" Keith cranks the wheel, trying to miss the dark object, what he thinks is a person. The truck spins 360 degrees and then Keith Mathews slams the brakes.
The hit the shoulder of the road, nose of the truck dipping into the grass. Keith unsnaps his seat belt to lean over and check on Ponyboy. "Christ, kid, are you—"
"I'm okay," comes the low voice. "But now I really think I'm gonna be sick." He manages a smile."Are you okay?"
Keith puts his hand on the door jam, meaning to find the person and give him a lesson in J-Walking etiquette. "Whoever the hell that was, I'm gonna kill 'em."
I make the lights in the cab flicker and Pony glances up. "No," he says. "Don't go out there, Two-Bit. Let's go. Let's just go. Please." He puts a hand on Keith's arm.
Face softening, Keith relents. "Yeah, sure, Ponyboy." He lets out a breath. "Whew, man, am I glad that—"
Pony screams as a dark force hits the hood of the truck.
OoO
"The fuck?" Two-Bit swears and jerks back in his seat. Going for the keys, he floods the ignition, swearing as the engine turns over, trying to back the truck out of the ditch.
All I can see are its legs. Scaly and clawed nails. It scrabbles onto the hood.
"Two-Bit…" I moan.
"I know, I'm trying, kid…Christ, where's Steve when you need him…"
Two-Bit gives it another try and this time the truck starts. He shifts and furiously backs us out of the ditch over the bumpy earth, the truck shaking like we're in an earthquake.
The passenger side window shatters, glass spraying across the dash. I scream again as a hand juts through the window, eagerly seeking. Its claws wrap around my wrist, digging into my skin, raking up my arm like razorblades. I yell, and push back toward Two-Bit as the hand tries to pull me out the window.
It's terrifying. I don't even want to see this Black Fates' face. Already, it's bad. It's strong. It's a nightmare.
We're up and in the road now. Two-Bit's got one hand on my arm, gripping me tight, and the other steering. "Fucker," Two-Bit grits out. "Hold on, Pony!"
He jerks the wheel and I wrench my arm free, sucking in a gasp as the long claws shred. The Black Fate screeches, its dark form toppling behind the truck, somewhere in the road.
Two-Bit slams a fist into the wheel and yells.
OoO
"No, oh no." Iris frets, watching the fire glass as Two-Bit pulls his truck into the Curtis's driveway.
"I know."
"Those scratches…" She shakes her dark head. "He'll fade faster now."
"The memos didn't help him."
"Yes, I know that. Thank you for reminding me Everett."
The scratches on Ponyboy Curtis's arm carry sickness. It's how Pestilence spreads. It's Pestilence's weapon. Easy infection. We may have spurred along Ponyboy's his heart condition, but Pestilence is strong. He will weaken Ponyboy's heart faster than we can fix it.
"It will take a lot to fight him," I say.
Iris smoothes her dress. "Do you want to tell Ponyboy or should I?"
I sigh.
OoO
"Jesus Christ," Steve says, evaluating the damage to Two-Bit's truck. He's met us at the house after Two-Bit called the DX. Soda and Darry have been gone since this morning. "Looks like you owe him a window, Ponyboy."
Two-Bit, not amused, runs a hand through his hair. "This town is fuckin crazy. I don't care what anyone says."
Steve nods, contemplative. "We can get this fixed up in no time. You two okay?" He folds his arms across his chest, glances over.
Two-Bit answers. I make a fist. The stickiness of the blood on my arm, the scratches sting.
I eye my house. Dark and empty. "Soda's working in Butte," Steve says as if he can read my mind. "Picked up an extra shift."
"It doesn't matter," I mutter, heading inside.
They follow.
OoO
The air's musty from the stagnant pool of water in the basement. Newspapers are stacked near the front door. Shoes piled on top of jackets. Unopened bills on the coffee table. Steve flips a light switch and only one bulb flickers on.
I rub my face. God, our house is falling apart. Our parents would hate this.
"You guys want something to eat?" Tired and hungry, I check the fridge. It's empty. Just beer and an old slice of pizza.
Two-Bit and Steve exchange a look.
"Hey, kid, why don't we go grab a burger?" Two-Bit offers.
Steve says. "This time I'll drive."
OoO
They finally spot Ponyboy's arm when they're in the lit up diner. Swearing, Steve takes the child into the bathroom and cleans it with a paper towel and soap. Ponyboy sucks in a breath as Steve dabs harshly at the torn skin.
"Yeah, well, serves you right for keepin your mouth shut," Steve says. He stops and presses gently down. "Anything else you wanna tell me?"
"The sky's blue, did you know that?"
"You're a pain in my ass," Steve snaps, letting him go and trashing the paper towel. Smirking, Ponyboy tugs his sleeve down.
They go back to the booth where Keith's waiting with burgers.
I watch them all, quietly picking at their food. Steve and Keith debating what to say. The friends are taken aback by the house, by this family. They've haven't seen just how bad it's getting until tonight. Soda's working so much, he doesn't have time to catch up, and Darry just doesn't care. Ponyboy can't do it all because of his heart. No money for groceries. The empty kitchen, the empty house, so different than it was six months ago is
Ponyboy Curtis is very lucky to have friends who care.
Finally, Keith clears his throat and, "Say, uh, kid, how's it going on the home front?"
Steve snorts. "Real subtle, man."
"What?" Keith elbows Steve in the side.
Pony sighs. It can't be avoided. He can't lie. "Everything's so bad," he says. "It ain't getting better. Darry's mad all the time. Nothing's right."
The build up to the truth's painful and Ponyboy blinks fast, clearing his eyes. He wants to tell them everything, if he only could. "Something's wrong with him," Ponyboy says lowly, pushing away the plate of food. "Soda just doesn't want to say it." He covers his face, reality heavy.
"Kid—"
Steve silences when the waitress drops the bill on the table.
OoO
I listen as Everett tells me we hit a snag.
In reality, I'm asleep on the couch, and I'm in their world now. This time the scene is a classroom. Everett stands by the chalkboard. I sit on top of a desk. The scratches on my arm are red and raw. They almost seem to pulse.
Even now, even here, I feel sick.
"It is not ideal, as this will slow us down. And now the memos cannot help you." He lets out a heavy breath. "But still we must proceed. We have two left."
I look at my hands. It's been feeling more real lately. The possibility that this won't end the right way. The night with Two-Bit and Pestilence driving it home. I'm not safe; neither are my friends or family. There're only two outcomes, and one of them bad.
"Everett?"
"Yes?"
"I could still die, right?"
Caught off guard by this question, he blinks. Then says, "Well, I suppose it's a possibility. But it's very slight. Iris and I—"
"But what if you're late? Or something happens? Or my heart gives out?"
"We're working hard so that doesn't occur."
"But it's not for sure."
"No," he admits. "It's not."
I think of Soda and Darry.
OoO
Ever since the night at the diner, Steve and Two-Bit come over more often. Two-Bit even helps me clean the house and I nearly fall over. He brings a casserole Mrs. Mathews made. Steve sticks close to Soda, helping him out with shifts. Not wanting to worry him, all three of us gave my brother a tame version of what happened with the man and Two-Bit's truck.
We barely see Darry. He's not dangerous, just quiet and sullen. He sits in his recliner and reads his papers every night until early in the morning. Reads and re-reads them until his fingers are inkpads.
OoO
For once it's not raining. Soda and I settle onto the picnic table in the middle of the quad. We've spent the entire touring the University of Tulsa. With everyone gone for the summer, the campus is deserted. It's surreal; I can't picture myself here at all. Good or bad, I can't tell.
Soda's been quiet all morning. Taking it in like I have, only I think he's thinking about Darry. Darry and the money. The money and my heart.
"So what do you think about all this?" Soda asks. He wraps his hands around an icy bottle of Coke we've bought at a vending machine. "You see that library back there?"
"Yeah, it's great…"
"You excited?"
"Sure, I am. Nervous though."
"Aw, you'll do great, Pone." He's thinking about October. The countdown.
I give him a smile because he looks like he needs it. "I'll still be at home, Soda. You and Darry will probably be sick of me soon."
"No way." Soda clears his throat. "You know Darry wishes he could have made it…he's just got a lot on his plate these days…"
"I know." And I really do. The old Darry would be here. The new one has better things to do. And like me, Soda makes an excuse. It's hard to see our brother like this.
Soda passes me the drink and I start peeling the label off.
Lost chances. Johnny and Dallas; what I never got to say. My parents. Now's the right time to say something. Though I'm 90% confident in Iris and Everett…there's always that possibility. That inkling that things won't work out. I need to come to terms with it while I have the chance.
"Listen, Soda. In case…for some reason the surgery can't – or doesn't – happen, I want you to—"
"Stop it." Soda shakes his head. "I don't ever want to hear you talk like that, you got me? This is all gonna work out."
"Just in case," I say, the words braver than I am. "Just in case I'm not—"
"Jesus! Ponyboy!"
Soda stands and walks away, his back to me, hands laced behind his head. I sit at the table, waiting, giving him time. After a few moments he comes back and sits down. He's calmer but his eyes are glossy. He picks up the piece of label I've peeled off and rolls it between his fingers.
"I get it, okay. I get what you're trying to do. But kiddo, thinkin like that ain't healthy. I need you around for a long, long time and anything else won't cut it. You understand me?"
"Sure, I do, Soda." I give him a small smile.
He takes a shuddery breath. "I love you so goddamned much, you know that?'
OoO
Soda goes for a night out.
"You're lookin' like shit these days, you know that?"
The three boys are at a small house party, a friend of a friend, and though Soda didn't like leaving Ponyboy he needs to get away. So far, he's made it through three hours but now he wants to get home. He's worried about his brother.
Soda takes the beer from Steve and perches on an armchair of a couch. "I don't really want to get into it, Steve."
"Well then, what do you want to get into? How about that stack of bills on your coffee table?"
Soda ignores him. Two-Bit, moseying over, and having caught the tail end of the conversation asks, "This about Darry?"
Steve says, "Your little brother spilled the beans, Soda. I don't blame him either. All three of you, and that house, are lookin kinda run down."
"Listen, man—"
"C'mon, Soda. Your little brother's crying over something and you can barely stay awake at work."
"It hasn't got any better. I tried to talk to Darry but now he's never home." Soda fiddles with the tab on the beer until it pops off. "You know he took that money for Ponyboy's surgery? I don't even think he has it anymore."
"Christ, you serious?" Two-Bit asks.
"That don't sound like Darry," Steve says with a frown.
Soda snaps. Says, "He's like a goddamn stranger these days. And I'm sick of makin excuses for him." He stands, takes a chug of his beer, and then passes it off to Two-Bit. "I get that it's hard on him. But it's been hard on all of us. You don't see me bailing."
"What do you need us to do?" Steve asks, all business, ready to fix this for his best friend.
"I don't know, man. I just don't know."
OoO
Soda's gone and Darry's gone. I try and pick up the house. My heart pumps erratically. Chris's light is on. I should go, or call, but I don't. And then at ten, the strangest thing happens. I'm crossing the room, book in hand when I feel, literally feel, my heart stop. The beat in my chest, in my ears, toes and fingertips ceases. I stand for a long minute before I collapse.
OoO
"Did you do it?"
"No," Iris says. "I didn't."
"This is worrisome."
We watch the unmoving body through the fire glass. Iris says, "I'll go," and disappears. In an instant, she's next to Ponyboy Curtis, raising him up. She crouches next to him and speaks soft. He rubs his eyes and looks around the room, confused.
There are many things I don't like about this scenario. Instead of me or Iris, Pestilence else is affecting Ponyboy Curtis.
Then there's Iris.
She's caring. She's breaking the rules. She's waking him.
Those are my jobs.
OoO
Pardon typos.
So sorry for the long delay. Catching up on chapters. Hope this isn't getting too long.
Please review. It would be lovely and appreciated.
XO,
Feisty