Chapter 33
We ran for a good three minutes until the sounds of a motors monstrous roar brought us to the side of the nearest house. A cone of bright light, the searchlight that could have meant our doom, shone down the street, growing closer and brighter. Closer and closer and nearly as bright as a full moon before the van sped past us, and made a sharp right down the junction, slamming the back end into a lamp post then driving off.
Like it was a tree, the lamp post fell to the ground with a resounding crunch as metal caved in, glass crashed and shattered. Then sparks flew from the severed wires.
We made our leave, still hearing the roar of the van.
Karen, still in Damien's grip did not thrash much; she was exhausted from the sudden fire and Kenneth's sudden heroics. She cried loudly, and I would have joined her in grief, but I stopped myself, although that wasn't very hard, I had spent up all my tears and I could grieve when her and Damien were safe. Kenneth's parents were still a very viable option, and with Lucas and the other two causing such mindless mayhem, then I was sure the McCormick's would be more than willing to get out of town. If they hadn't already left, that was.
The only contact that me and Damien shared in our walk through the concrete labyrinth that was South Park, was a singe look of sadness.
Twice we had to hide from the van, both times had the sweat from the fire coming back in a proud stride and had my heart racing as if an invisible hand was forcibly squeezing it as fast as it could.
The bright headlights were like malevolent eyes, always watching what was in front of it, ready to show anyone at any time. The shone dark shadows down past us, and when the people in the van slowed down to search the streets more effectively, the lights were the most dangerous warning signal in the world.
On the second spotting of the van, when we had flattened ourselves behind the dumpsters of a side ally, the van screeched to a halt, just outside the house we were hiding next to. I was positive that we had been found, and when I peaked my head out to see what was happening, I only caught a glimpse of the van driving passed, with Jack driving, and Lucas in the passenger's seat, talking franticly on a phone. Then they drove passed.
When we reached Kenneth's house it was horribly silent and lifeless, we were only lucky that Karen was asleep. It would have probably broken her entirely to find that either her parents had left her, or Lucas had taken a more intense approach.
The McCormick's truck was there, but unusable, the tyres had been popped, and the bonnet was propped open, showing no engine. We were out of plans.
Rage became my companion again, and I nearly fell into feverish anger, I was ready to kick and scream and curse to no end. Karen was asleep though, and Damien, although he had regained his cool domineer, he was still probably as stressed as I was.
Then the front door opened, and I swear I went mad, because I saw Kenneth in the doorway, with a solemn half grin.
It took Damien's shock to prove that it was real. "Jesus Christ, are you ok?" he asked, although Kenneth did defiantly not look ok.
His left hand was smothered in bandages and hung limply to his side. A thinner amount of bandages covered the left side of his head, blond hair spilled out somewhat and a small hole was cut out for his eye, but there was no flesh being shown. It was odd that none of his hair was singed but I was not going to question anything, he was alive.
"I'm good; don't go inside by the way. Car's fucked as well."
Carefully I asked, "what's inside?"
Kenneth said with dry, fake humour "Shit ton of blood, mom's time of the month I think." Kenneth was hollow, his almost always excited eyes were no longer brilliant sapphires but now they were like grey puddles in a dirty path.
I glanced over to Karen and felt gooseflesh bump up my arm as if the skin were boiling, "Your parents are... they're dead, aren't they?"
I could see the sobs ready to burst from Kenneth, and when I made my way to the door he finally let out a small gasp of sadness, quickly he jumped up and grabbed my arm, "don't go in there! Please!" he pleaded.
I could see inside clearly though from the open door, their living room was barren of much furniture, the grizzly sight was in full display.
Carol McCormick, Kenneth's mother, lay splayed in the front room, several puncture wounds decorated her chest. Her pale eyes gazed lost in the ceiling.
Kenneth finally sounded sad and lost, "Dad's fucked off, he... This was him, he did this. He's taken his truck and trashed mom's. Is Karen ok?"
We all turned our eyes to the sleeping kid; Damien was still awkwardly holding her. We had to get her as far away from her mother as possible.
"Is it ever supposed to... not hurt?" Kenneth wondered, emotionless as he looked back at the still form of his mother.
I shook my head and gently pulled him away from the door, "I don't know, maybe."
