The Day After Chapter 15: TV is bad for you, a sonic the hedgehog fanfic

THE DAY AFTER

15. TV is bad for you.

[TAILS, David Macintyre]

Knock, knock.

"Who's there?" Kays' voice inquires from behind the white wooden door. I sigh in frustration. It's one in the morning, for Crissakes, who else would it be?!

"Jehova's fucking witnesses, who the hell do you THINK it is, Kays?"

"Sorry, I'm a Buddhist. And I'll have you arrested for stalking."

Another sigh comes out of my mouth, accompanied by a frustrated growl crossed with an irritated roar.

"God dammit, Kays, let me in!" I look over my shoulder quickly as if expecting a Fed to show up any second. Seeing none I look back at the door.

"No solicitors. The sign's in the lobby."

"KAYS, LET ME IN."

I wait for a moment as Kays pulls the door open. I look up stony-faced at him, eyes laced with venom, lip clenched. His sleek, mildly bony, face peers down at me. He looks falsely surprised.

"Tails! When did YOU start reading the Watchtower?"

"It's not funny anymore, Kays. It never was to begin with."

I continue glaring at him, his neat red locks, and sparkling, almost sinister smile. A con man's evilly innocent face.

"Oh, fine," he says, inviting me in. "Damn spoilsport."

"Fuck YOU."

"And welcome to Chez Kay," he says, waving his hand dramatically.

Kays' apartment is a fairly basic, three room residence—a large living room with a kitchen built in, then a short hallway adjacent on the right that leads to the bathroom and bedroom. At the moment only the living room is illuminated, by the soft glow of the white clock in the kitchen, a blue lamp resting next to the couch, and the gentle white flicker of the TV, muted. The curtains at the far end are open, showing the view of the brightly lit city.

I miss the stars.

Before nostalgia of my nighttime 'redeye' flight tests can kick in, Kays offers me a drink.

"Beer?"

"No, ginger ale," he says. "Nunna that pussy root beer shit…"

"Still non alcoholic. I'm surprised."

"Yeah, well, couldn't afford it."

"Fake ID expire?"

"You think I'm THAT dumb?" he says, covering up what is obviously the truth. I've got to be the only person who can see through Kays' lies.

"Very classy place you have here," I crack, sitting down on the soft couch on the other end of the room. I glance at the TV.

"DRINK," Kays barks in his best Irish voice, probably imitating some favorite British sitcom of his. He then emerges from the tile of the kitchen and crosses onto the carpet, throwing me a glass bottle. I catch it, barely.

"You dumbass, now it's all shaken."

"Fuck YOU."

I wait a moment and then take off the cap.

"I wouldn't drink that beer shit anyway," I say. "Tastes like piss."

Kays takes a swig of his own drink and picks up the remote.

"You WOULD know what piss tastes like," he says, turning up the volume.

"And we're watching…"

"Um…. It WAS the late news recap, but…"

Now's when I REALLY pay attention.

"WAS the news recap, but now it seems to be your house."

I stare enraptured at the screen. On the left half is a streaming, live shot of my house, with cops and feds milling around out front. On the right is that 'hot' female newscaster whose age Kays and I have made a bet on.

"…three members of the family have been hospitalized, the remaining daughter currently being kept in the hospital's child care center. The youngest, Alia Prower—" a photo of Alia from last November appears above the newscaster—"Six years old, has been pronounced dead."

Kays is the only one listening after that. It has something to do with other injuries or some bullshit, like it matters.

My head hangs, but I don't really notice.

Stare at feet.

"Did you know about this?" he asks. I nod slowly, my attention drifting away.

Dead…

The newsgirl jabbers for a moment.

"There whereabouts of Miles Prower—"

Attention.

"Is still unknown, but he will not be reported missing for another eighteen hours."

A photo of me appears, one from March earlier this year. I look happy, actually. Smile and everything.

That was BEFORE Sonic went and turned himself into David Gonterman.

The rape, to the layman ear.

Eye. Whatever.

I curse softly and stomp. Now everyone will be looking for me.

"You ran away from home?" Kays laughs disbelievingly, sipping his ginger ale. "You badass."

"Not now, Kays." I choke… in fear, or sadness, or something in between.

"And… omigod…"

"Uh oh." Kays turns up the volume.

The newsgirl stares intently at the camera, sounding every bit sincerely afraid.

"Viewers, I strongly urge you to lock your doors and windows and arm yourselves as best you can. The… the Vampire has struck again!"

!!!!!

Kays' 'Holy FUCK!' clashes simultaneously with my 'Jesus Christ!'

"The victim was found approximately one hour ago by a local police officer who was summoned to the scene. However, whoever made the phone call was nowhere to be found when police officials arrived."

"Who was the VICTIM?!" Kays practically yells.

As if on cue:

"The victim, thanks to identification laid on top of the body by presumably the caller for help or the Vampire itself, has been speedily identified as one Sandra Acorn." Photo.

…

I almost laugh from the name recognition.

"That's Amy's lesbian," I say, turning up the volume.

"What?"

"My friend Amy is a lesbian," I say. "Sandra's… um, WAS her girlfriend."

Kays nods, grinning. "Is this Amy a HOT lesbian?"

"Depends what you're into." I can't believe I just answered him.

"Big tits and alternative sexuality."

"She's half of that."

"Damn."

I keep listening. The newsgirl just blabs on about the distinguishing marks the Vampire makes, emphasizing everything.

"Man, Eggman must've laughed his chunky ass off when he found that one out."

"What?"

"That Amy's a lesbian."

"No, I mean what has Robotnik got to do with anything?"

I haven't seen Kays in this serious a mood in a long time, so I decide to humor him.

"He's behind all this, Kays. I know it," I say, resisting the note of contempt squeezing its way out of my throat. "I'm fucking going to prove it."

"Why?"

Good question, actually.

Why?

Why do I care?

To clear Rouge's name?

To make life easier on Amy?

As an excuse to get Sonic out of jail?

…

"Because he's fucking killing my family," I say. "I don't know how or entirely why, but he is. I KNOW it's him."

"You're a good kid, Tails," Kays admits, reaching for his ginger ale. "But I notice you don't seem to fazed about anything these days."

"What?"

"You're becoming selfish. Not as a directly outward thing, I mean, it's just that your motives lately seem to be become more and more self-oriented."

"So? You didn't even crack a tear for your brother," I quip, scowling at what he could be getting at.

"You don't want to end up like me, and you know it."

Deep down I know he's probably right.

Like he says, girls only go for the cynical bad boy thing for awhile. It gets old. Among a lot of other things.

Bad example.

"While the FBI has released minimal information about the case and no suspects have been named to the public, a suspected accomplice—"

Click.

"—of the Vampire has been named, one… Miles Prower." A photo of me appears on screen—this time it's a post-rape picture, black and white, I think the one they took on that 'Police day' or whatever the fuck it was at school when they brought in the cops and took your fingerprints and shit, trying to make it seem 'fun'. Come on, you must know what I mean. Point is, I'm wearing a scowl. That's propaganda for you.

Double click.

"The same Miles Prower."

Triple fucking click.

"Whether or not these cases are related is unknown, but police and federal investigators are looking into both as we speak. And now is the viewer's opportunity to collect double rewards by calling the two numbers on the screen with any information leading to the recovery and arrest of Miles Prower." The numbers for the missing persons line and America's Most Wanted or whatever appear onscreen. "Caution is strongly advised. As the former ward of convicted rapist Sonic the hedgehog, Prower is to be considered extremely dangerous, even while unarmed."

Silence…

"We're forced to cut camera feed now for the preferences of the Station Square police. So we're out of time. Thank you, and goodnight… and good luck, everyone."

I look over to Kays. He looks back over at me.

I breathe heavily in fear. I don't like the look in his eyes.

His brother. He's thinking about his brother.

Breathe.

"Kays… I… I'm… you know I didn't…"

He just stares down at me, eyes glassy and… is that… mist?

"Meaters," he says. "My brother. Meaters."

"Kays, I don't have anything to DO with them!"

"My brother. Your own fucking cousin, Tails."

"Kays, I didn't… KAYS!"

He reaches into a pouch strapped to his right thigh. He pulls out one of his experimental guns.

"FUCK!"

I leap from the couch and swing my foot hard at the hand holding the gun. Kays roars in frustration, probably regretting ever teaching me that, as it flies across the apartment and hits the far wall.

I only know this because of the sound it makes as it hits the wall. All else is running.

"TERRORIST! MURDERER! FUCKING RAPIST!"

His ginger ale bottle collides with my ankle. I don't trip, but I stumble enough for him to reach the door before I do and block it with his body, then lock it.

I know all too well what comes next.

"Shi—"

I turn and bolt for the window, willing to risk another long shot to stay alive. Good, it's open.

I run as hard as I can for the window. I can hear him follow.

I look to leap for the window—

"FUCKER!" he screams. Lunge. Contact. Slam.

"KAYS! STOP IT, YOU FUCKING PSYCHO!"

"Bitch."

I roll around underneath him, his weight supported by his arms. I roll onto my back.

I stop when I hear the familiar click.

I look up.

He's picked up the gun from the floor and pointed it between my eyes.

"Eep."

To be continued. Reviews are appreciated. Oh, and visit our site: http://tdaproject.tripod.com.