An Ordinary Day
Matthew Shabo sat at the back of his 4th period English class, bored out of his mind. It was an average, ordinary spring day in Reseda, a tiny little city in the San Fernando Valley. Matt stretched his legs out, letting out a silent yawn as he pretended to pay attention to whatever his English teacher was saying.
Like a cool glass of water on a sweltering summer day, the lunch bell rang and Matthew was free for forty minutes. He walked down the hallway and out into the quad, trying hard to avoid bumping into the hundreds of other students as he did. "These damn overcrowded public schools!", he thought to himself. Matt headed for his usual lunch hangout, the Metal table. The metal crowd was known throughout the school for their insane partying habits and excessive consumption of drugs.
As Matt approached the table, his friend Damien, a hulking 6'2 half-American, half Norwegian sixteen year old with long brown hair that hung down below his shoulders seemed to approach out of nowhere and grabbed Matt by the side and held a pen to his gut, driving it in as if it were a real knife. "Only those who serve Lucifer may enter.", Damien growled.
Matt was your average sixteen year old boy, not much compared to Damien but no small fry either, but he was shorter than Damien by about four inches. Damien was tall, with wide shoulders and a muscular upper body. Matt was strong, but he was shorter than Damien, and his upper body was tight and unevenly toned.
Matt was used to this kind of treatment by Damien. They had been friends since fourth grade and Damien was a little arrogant due to his size, but he still liked him nonetheless and Matt just learned how accept that kind of treatment from him. Matt hit Damien in the side and yelled "I obey!" loudly. Damien let go and another person, a skinny Mexican with a shaved head stepped out of his the secluded hangout near the lockers wearing a white T-shirt, gangster locs and a pair of Dickies pants. "It is easy to say you obey, but do you really?", said Angel.
Smiling, Matt played along. "I obey!", he said, raising a voice a bit.
A short blonde white girl of about 5'4 wearing a pair of pair of Dickies pants and an AC/DC baby T ran up behind Matt and placed both her hands over his eyes.
"I hope that's Laurel who's touching me.", Matt laughed.
Laurel remained on point and spoke to Matt angrily.
"Your soul belongs to Lucifer."
"My soul belongs to Lucifer", Matt repeated.
"Your body belongs to the cause."
"My body belongs to the cause."
Laurel could take it no longer. She squealed loudly and dropped her hands to squeeze Matt's ass. She screeched and exclaimed loudly, "BUT YOUR ASS BELONGS TO ME!"
Laurel let go of Matt and sat down again, giggling as she did.
Everyone started laughing and the façade of being territorial and aggressive faded away and was replaced by feelings of camaderie and adventure. Everyone became what they were, a bunch of stoner kids.
Angel walked up to Matt and slapped him on the back. "Hey wassup man, you wanna ditch and go pick up an O?"
Matt shrugged and spoke. "Sure, I have nothing better to do. Can Damien come with?"
"Sure." Angel said.
Matt, Angel and Damien turned to the rest of the group; Alex, Nick, Patrick and some other assorted people. "Alright, I guess we're gone then. Call us if you need us.", Angel said. The group muttered goodbyes and handshakes, and the trio walked out of school and into the parking lot through a side gate. They headed to Angel's car, a restored 1971 Ford Galaxie muscle car. Angel opened the door and sat down in the driver's seat. Matt and Damien climbed into the back, resting on the soft plush seats. Angel put a key into the ignition and started it up, driving out of the parking lot of Reseda High and into the city.
Damien looked below him. Next to his feet were a carton of Marlboro Reds, his favorite brand of cigarettes. He broke the silence and spoke. "Ange, can I bum a stog?", he asked. "Me too.", said Matt.
Angel stopped at a red light. "Yeah man, pass me up one too."
Damien passed out cigarettes to everyone and pulled out a lighter, lighting his, Matt's and Angel's. Smoke filled the car, drifting all over the oversized interior. Matt cleared his throat and spoke, moving his lips slowly as to not lose the cigarette from between his lips. "So where are we headed to?"
Angel released the brake as the light turned green and he continued down the road, approaching Reseda and Victory. "We're gonna meet a foo' named Kris. He gave me the hookup. One O of Canada bud for $150. But keep that shit on the low pro cause he doesn't want people to know he has so much herb."
"Yeah I know what your sayin'.", said Damien.
"When's he meeting us?", asked Matt.
"1:15, he said."
Angel pulled into a parking lot behind a strip mall, switching off the engine and leaving on the radio, which was tuned to an alternative rock station. The last guitar solo of Smells Like Teen spirit finished, and the announcer's voice came onto the radio and announced the time, which was 1:00.
Angel turned in his seat and faced the two teenagers.
"I'm bored.", he said matter-of-factly.
"I have hash.", Matt said with a smile.
"Pack a bowl, spaz.", demanded Damien.
Matt eased the shit out of his pocket along with a small pipe and a lighter. Laying the pipe on his lap, Matt opened the ziplock bag and cut a chunk out of the hash that lay inside, packing the crumbly substance into the bowl of the pipe and put it to his lips. Then, he lit the dope and inhaled sharply. Almost immediately, Matt felt different. Good different, like he was at his girlfriend's house and getting a little funny in her room. Things seemed more hazy, a little lighter, more laid back. He passed the smoking pipe over to Damien and blew the smoke out of his lungs.
"This is some pretty good shit.", remarked Damien after he took a hit off the pipe and passing it to Angel.
A big gray van pulled up a short distance from them.
"Here's our man guys. Gimme your money.", Angel said.
Matt and Angel pulled out their wallets and pulled out $50 altogether and gave it to Angel. Angel took the money and got out of the car, walking to the back of the van. As he did, a tall black man climbed out, accompanied by two Mexican cholos who looked like they came straight off a football team. Their heads were shaved and they wore Dickies pants and dark overshirts. They walked with Angel and Kris for a little bit, but then Kris told them to go relax and they sat down near the van. Kris walked with Angel to the back of his van, staggering a little on the way but regaining his balance quickly.
"He looks drunk.", said Matt, watching the deal from Angel's car.
"Too drunk. He's gonna get himself arrested.", he added.
"You can never be too drunk.", laughed Damien.
Matt smiled and relaxed, leaning back into his seat.
Inside the van, Angel and Kris talked business.
"Yeah man, I have the shit right here." Kris opened a small, nondescript gray box laying on a miniature table in the van. Inside lay an ounce of premium hydrophonic Canadian marijuana. Kris's hands shook as he picked up the sack. He didn't feel well. He thought of going to the hospital, but he had decided against it in hopes of eventually feeling better.
"You don't look good, man. You should go see a doctor.", Angel said, putting the $150 on the table.
"I'll be fine, fool…All I need is just some rest. I've been workin' too hard."
Kris's eyes were jaundiced and dark bags lay underneath them. His skin flaked a little, and he constantly itched at his cheek. His cheek was swollen and red from being scratched so much and his fingers were stained red from coming into contact with the blood that lay in his scratched cheek.
"What the fuck happened to you though? How'd you get so sick?", questioned Angel.
"My brother bit me."
Angel laughed.
"Nah fool, seriously. What happened?" Angel asked.
"My brother bit me this morning!", yelled Kris, hanging his head low and staring at the floor of the van.
"You don't believe me?" Here, look.
Kris pulled up his shirt and pointed to a missing section of skin on his upper bicep. It was a nasty tint of red and yellow, and dried blood ran down the sides.
" Jesus christ fool! You should go to a hospital for that! You could die from that shit!", Angel exclaimed.
Kris pulled down his shirt and lay his head down.
"I tried going this morning. They're all busy with the same shit. Fuck em. I'll just pour some rubbing alcohol and slap on a band-aid for this."
"Okay then, foo…do it your own way. I'm just gonna leave now with my herb. Late."
Angel grabbed his pot and stuffed it in his pocket. He turned and put out his hand to shake Kris's, but Kris just lay face down on the van's table.
"Kris, you OK man?"
Kris didn't respond.
"Kris? You still awake?"
Angel shook him hard with both hands and felt for his pulse. He put a finger on his neck. Dead.
I was just talking to him a second ago.
Angel walked to the other side of the van and gazed at Kris.
Outside the van, the cholos sat, smoking, laughing, keeping an eye on the deal. They realized, suddenly, that it had been over 15 minutes since they had seen their boss. This concerned them. In rapid Spanish, they agreed to go over to the van and knock on the door. As they approached the van's backdoor, they heard two gunshots. Drawing their own guns, they rushed over and threw open the door.
Angel stood rigidly, holding a smoking Glock 22 and looking over the dead body of his friend. He had shot him dead in his own vehicle. The plain grey interior was streaked with blood and bits of face and bone. Kris was on the floor, half his face blown off. His eyes were still open, although the color was drained and all that remained were just a pair of milky orbs. It had happened so suddenly. Kris looked like he had passed out and Angel tried to wake him, and felt his pulse. Kris had no pulse. Angel walked to the other side of the van and then Kris just lunged at him and bit his arm. Then, he tried to bite his neck. Angel had no choice but to kill him to avoid being killed himself.
Now, Angel faced death once again in the span of less than a minute. The overgrown cholos yelled at him to put down the gun. Angel raised his arms to show them he was no threat, but he still held his gun. He yelled at them to put theirs down. They shook their heads and started denying the order. Angel was going to have to make his move quick or they were going to kill him where he stood. Where's my chance!, he thought.
"Matt wake up!", yelled Damien.
Matt woke up from his sleep. He was still in Angel's car. He heard shouts in Spanish coming from the grey van that was still parked a short distance away from them. The two cholos were pointing large handguns into the back of the dealer's van.
"I heard a gunshot like a second ago.", said Damien.
"Where's Angel?", asked Matt.
"He's the one their pointing guns at!" Damien pointed to Angel's figure in the back of the van.
"We need to do something.", said Matt.
"Like what? What are we gonna do, jump them?"
Matt looked around the car. He looked to the driver's seat. The keys still dangled from the ignition. "I got it!", he exclaimed. Matt leapt over the seats and jumped in the driver's seat. He turned the key and hit the gas, revving the engine powerfully.
The cholos turned around, distracted by the sound. Angel took advantage of their mistake, raising his pistol to casually shoot them both. They were hit, but they didn't go down. Angel jumped from the van and ran to his own car, occasionally turning around to take a potshot at them. The cholos still ran after him, speaking in rapid fire Spanish and firing their own guns at him.
Inside the car, Matt shifted out of park and hit the gas, speeding down the parking lot to move alongside Angel. Angel used the car as a shield, crouching down beside the trunk and squeezing off a number of shots at the advancing cholos, catching them both in the throat and chest. Finally, they fell with a thump against the pavement. Angel walked up to the bodies and grabbed the pistols from the corpses and opened the door of his car, sitting in the passenger seat.
"Go, fool.", Angel growled. Matt gunned the engine, speeding out of the parking lot and heading to the nearest freeway onramp.
Damien broke the silence. "What the fuck was all that about?"
Angel leaned his head against the window and tried to ignore Damien.
"Angel, are you there? Why did you kill those people?"
Angel closed his eyes and tried to ignore him.
"Angel, I'm gonna hop out of the car and go find a cop if you don't answer me. I'm not gonna ride in a car with a murderer."
That did it. Angel turned around and socked Damien in the nose. Hard. His head snapped back and banged against the metal near the back window of the car. Damien's eyes teared, he tasted blood and his vision swam. He resisted the urge to hit back and instead stared down at the floor.
Angel wasn't through yet. He hopped in the back and hit Damien in the face once more, putting him down in his seat. He grabbed Damien by his shirt and held him against the seat.
"Fool, that shit was not murder. That was self-defense. They were gon' kill me. The shit that happened in the back of the van was self-defense too. Kris tried to eat me, fool. He actually bit my arm. What kind of crazy person does that shit? If I didn't kill him, he would have killed me. But don't you tell no one that I killed him or else I will shoot you. Angel stuck the muzzle of his Glock into Damien's chin. In fact, we didn't even see each other today, agreed?"
Angel smiled at Damien and waved the gun in his face before he hopped over the seats and sat down again.
"Matt, take me to your house.", Angel said.
"Angel, we can't stay in the city. People probably saw that. We need to get as far away from Reseda as possible.", Matt said, serious.
"Fool, people are looking for us right now here. We should just go to your house and stay there til the night time."
Matt passed a car that was going a bit too slow and merged into another lane.
"Angel, trust me. Let's just stop over at a gas station and think this out."
Angel knew that what Matt was saying was true. If they went back home, the police would find them for sure. If they stayed moving down the 101, they would hit Canoga Park and they would stay at one of Damien's friend's houses for the time being. Angel closed his eyes and laid back in his seat. He knew that what was going on was bad. Kris was dead when he felt his pulse. Kris should not have gotten up and bit his arm. But deep down inside, Angel knew whatever was going on was going to get worse.
Then, a pair of red and blue lights appeared in the rear view mirror.
(Cliffhanger! So, what do you think? Should I continue?)