It was as if a starting gun had been fired.
Greg tore open the drawers in the examining room. He took something out, looked at Bob's arm, massaged, slapped, massaged, poked the needle in.
"Ow!"
"Shut up."
Satisfied that red filled the clear tube, Greg clipped part of the tube, ran to a different part of the lab, came back with more stuff, including a bottle of liquid that looked like it glowed in the dark.
Bob's eyes widened at the prospect of his brother injecting him with that stuff. He looked away. At this point he did not want to know what would happen next.
As he stared at the wall he heard more banging and shuffling.
My blood? Why the hell does he need my blood for whatever the hell he's doing?
Bob knew why though; one of his best memories of his brother.
"Bobby, come here a sec."
"Yeah." Bob responded. Pleasantly surprised his brother was paying attention to him. He was eight at the time. Greg was fourteen. He still cared.
"Hold out your hand a sec."
"What-ow!" he felt a jab of the needle. He tried to pull his hand away but Greg held on and squeezed a few drops into a test tube and left the room.
"Thanks Bobby."
Minutes later he walked back in.
"Good news, you're O negative." He announced. "Means you can give blood to anyone and it won't kill them. Cool huh?"
Part of Bob was so grateful Greg got beaten up so bad the next week that his parents sent him to prep school somewhere in the northeast.
Bob looked down at the needle in his arm. The blood flowed in the catheter leading to something he couldn't see. Then another tube went into the boy's arm. His eyes drifted up to the boy's head where another tube extended out the back of his head which was connected to a large syringe with the neon yellow liquid being slowly pushed in by Greg.
Greg looked briefly at Bob then went back to what he was doing.
"So, " Greg spoke not moving his eyes from the syringe, carefully watching the amount going in. "What did this kid do that pissed you off so much?"
"He didn't do anything, " Bob said looking at the ceiling. "Just a piece of trash greaser. That's all."
"Liar."
"He's nothing. A piece of garbage society would be better off without."
"If he was nothing then what motivated you to kill him with your bare hands?" Greg asked innocently. "Motivates you to speak of him with such venom?"
"No, " he continued. "This isn't just some kid you jumped for kicks. This one was something special." An evil grin formed on Greg's otherwise placid features.
Bob turned his head to the wall. Suddenly fascinated in all the test tubes and beakers on the shelf in front of him.
"What's his name?"
"I don't know."
"Liar."
Bob let out a loud sigh. Greg knew. Greg always knew.
"I think Cherry said his name was Ponyboy. Ponyboy Curtis."
"Ponyboy Curtis, " Greg repeated the name. Trying to place it. "Ponyboy Curtis. Oh yeah. His parents died in a car crash last year."
"How do you know his life story?" Bob asked turning his head back to Greg. He still had not moved.
"Touching obituary. I remember reading it in the local paper waiting for Dad to pick me up at the train station."
"You read the obituaries?"
"Every so often, " Greg shrugged. Eyes still on the needle and catheter. "Besides it was my first day back in town after almost ten years. Had to catch up on all my local news."
"And you remembered this one?"
"How do you forget a name like Ponyboy?"
"Weirdo." Bob sighed.
"Perhaps, but at least I didn't kill an orphan."
Bob winced.
Just then a black cat wandered in. Greg looked down briefly, then back up at the syringe and gave it a slight push.
"Well hello Mr. Skittles. Bob, meet one of my success stories."
"Mr Skittles? Randy's mom's old cat?" Bob was surprised. This cat was around since before Greg left town. "He's been missing for months. They figured he was dead."
"He was."
The cat hissed at Greg. Then left.
"He's been in a nasty mood since he 'came back'. Don't know why." He stopped for a beat. "May have to do with his demise. It was more….violent then the others." He trailed off, then his face artificially brightened. " Good news is that seems to be the only side effect."
"Maybe the cat just has good taste, " Bob said dryly.
"Funny. "
Greg clipped the catheter and placed the syringe on a tray behind him . He looked over at Bob's arm, pushed a little on the needle, then stood up and walked to the drawer and fished out a square of gauze. He placed the gauze on top of the needle in bob's arm, pushed down and pulled out the needle.
"That's it."
Bob unconsciously bent his arm up at the elbow and held the gauze in the crook of his elbow.
"Why did you need my blood?"
"More living human element. " Greg explained. "It's a live organ. I started using live donors when I came back. When I just used the serum on the first cat I tried it went for my throat."
Bob just shook his head and winced a little in revulsion. He then looked at Ponyboy.
"Will it work on him?"
"Don't know." Greg answered as he sat down, unclipped the catheter and gave the syringe another push. "First human subject."
"What happens if it doesn't work?" Bob asked standing up. Feeling a little woozy he sat back down.
"You fry and I get a new mustang, " Greg deadpanned not even bothering to look up.
"Mustang's not mine. " Bob bitterly giggled. "It's Randy's."
"What happened to yours?"
"Smashed it up a month ago."
"And Randy lets you drive his?"
"Trusts me."
"That'll get him killed one day."
Bob just gave Greg a look.
Just then Ponyboy's eyes flew open.
Bob jumped up. Panic pushing him out the door.
Holy Crap! What if he remembered?
Bob ran as fast as he could out the door but before he could get much further he blacked out and fell flat on his face.