Part 6- The Prodigal Sun by The Black Angels
The bus sluggishly made its way downtown, puffing and shuffling forward jerkily. It was late evening on a chilly March night. It had been six weeks since my birthday incident and not a word was hardly exchange between me and my parents anymore. I found it difficult being so detached from them, but oddly relieving since I didn't have to worry about them catching on to what I was doing anymore. They used to be so protective over me after what happened, hardly letting me leave the house to go to the mailbox, though I would leave against their will, but now I think they have given up on me; that or themselves. I hoped it was the former. After all, I was the one who had given up on them.
I pushed that pain deep inside of me, forgetting it for now. I was focused and I wasn't going to let anything stand in my way. Not this far ahead. Forgiveness was a virtue in my household, so I knew that their hearts would still be open to me once all was said and done. It felt wrong to rely on them for that, because I didn't deserve it, but it was all I had to live on; as well as my burning urge to get to Darley and his gang.
The bus suddenly lurched to a stop and I looked out the window to see the small gas station boarded up and barren across the street. I hastily got out of my seat and off of the bus. When it finally pulled away, leaving a choking cloud of exhaust in its wake, I stared across the road to where my mind had been kept hostage for nearly a year. I had figured that seeing it would have sent me into a fit of hysterics, bringing forth vivid memories of that night, but I felt nothing.
Looking left then right, I crossed the road from the bus stop and into the gas station parking lot. The pavement was cracked and worn, weeds growing from the blacktop. All pumps were covered in plastic and the windows as well as the door were boarded up. I walked to stand in front of it cautiously, feeling as if time could in fact be reversed and I would be plunged back into the violence of that night. When nothing happened and I knew for certain that I was losing my mind-as if I already didn't know before- I made my way to the boarded up windows, looking through a large makeshift hole in the wood. A window that was supposed to be protected by the board had been busted out. I assumed a thief had been the one to do such a thing, even though the store stood dark and empty.
I put my face near to the hole careful not to get too close because my imagination was starting to get the best of me. I could feel Dracula looming just beyond the barrier of the shift, boring his red eyes into mine and willing me to somehow make my way inside to the bare hollowness of store so he could satisfy his blood lust. I didn't want to give him the chance to grab me, pulling me inside to the waiting blackness beyond.
All though lacking in intensity, some light from surrounding lampposts managed to squeeze its way through other cracks and holes in the wood panels. I shifted my eyes to the spots that the light had been kind enough to grace and found myself gazing at the floor in front of the cashier counter. Dried blood caked the once green tiling, leaving a vast, rusty-brown film spattered and smeared around the small counter. Ripping my head away from the hole, I started to believe that maybe Dracula was in fact using the abandoned building as his lair; luring anything with a heartbeat near so he could rip them viciously open and splash around in their blood on the sticky green floor.
Deciding that I had reminisced enough for the day, I turned around and walked back to the edge of the sidewalk. Steadying myself, I looked around the street to figure out which way I should proceed. An invisible tugging on my left had me turning in that direction. I kept my head down, my jacket wrapped around me tightly; eyes only leaving my feet to glance around warily every once and a while. There weren't too many people around tonight. There were a few homeless here and there, but no other pedestrians; so much for being inconspicuous. I stuck out like a sore thumb.
I passed a few of blocks, seeing nothing but the same rundown terrain and buildings. I was beginning to feel like maybe this trip had been a waste of time. I stopped at a crosswalk, waiting for the signal to start walking again when I noticed a mile or so up the road to my right a fluorescent sign. Curiosity instantly gripped me and I jogged back across the street again, continuing straight down this new street towards the building. It was on the other side of the road, but I didn't necessarily plan on going in, so I didn't cross.
As I approached, I saw that it was in fact a bar called the Four Roses, and sitting just outside the entrance were two mustangs; one black and the other red, both sporting tribal graphics. My heart froze mid-beat and I stared intensely at the two cars. I didn't know what to do now that I had found them and an unpleasant sensation ran through me. Fear. I felt clueless. So many months spent training and getting strong again and I felt just like I did that night they had attacked me and Delia; so small and defenseless.
The reality of the situation sent a violent trimmer through me, hitching my senses up to first gear. I was ruefully aware of everything that was happening around me, what had been happening the last ten months of my life. I sank to the edge of the sidewalk, putting my head between my knees and tried to control my breathing and racing heart.
What was I thinking? Why was I here? I couldn't possibly expect myself to be able to kill someone, let alone a whole gang. Had I gone bat-shit crazy? Yes, I concluded. I had indeed lost all sanity. I needed to get home and immediately. I only had a pocket knife on me and although it was 8 inches in length and I had practiced handling it, I still felt inadequate. I pulled my hood closer around my face, protecting it from the biting wind. That's when the door of the bar burst open and I saw him.
He was huge, tall and well built; I could see as much even though he wore a brown leather trench coat and black clothing. He was bald with a mustache and goatee and he had tattoos traveling up his neck that were similar in design to those on the mustangs. He stood there, hulking under the blinking sign of the Four Roses, the light illuminating him perfectly as if he had demanded it to bend and shape itself around him. He was absolutely terrifying. Cupping a hand around his mouth, he lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. As he exhaled, several other men came out the door to join him. There were nine in total that I could see and I recognized Joe Darley as one among them.
A sharp pang of nervousness tore through my abdomen as I watched. Joe walked up to the man in the trench coat and slapped him on the back. Comparing them side by side, Joe looked like a runt as skinny as he was. He was tall too, but not as tall as the man beside him. The man grabbed Joe by the neck, smiling at him and lightly shaking him back and forth, saying something I couldn't hear. They exchanged a few words before a black man who had been talking to the others suddenly broke away and started towards them, calling a name.
"Billy!"
The man in the trench coat looked up. So, this was the infamous Billy Darley. I was shocked to feel surprise on learning that this was him. He and Joe looked nothing alike, but then again I guess it would have been weird to picture a gang lord any other way than what Billy Darley looked like. I was curious about their father now and if he had the same commanding air to him as Billy did; if he was just as big or bigger. I couldn't begin to imagine. Bones Darley. He sure sounded like a giant and a mean one at that.
All the men gathered around Billy, seeming to discuss something before they broke out in rambunctious laughter and hollering. Breaking up, they all made their way to the mustangs, Billy, Joe and a few others heading for the black one while the rest went to the other. It wasn't until Billy glanced in my direction did I even realize that I was sitting on the side of a deserted road, staring intently at the gang of all gangs.
"Shit!" I whispered to myself before quickly looking away and burying my face in my hood. Maybe he hadn't noticed me, just figuring I was another homeless person lounging out on the street as any other night. I waited a couple of seconds before my curiosity got the best of me and shifted my hood to where I could look back across the street again.
He was still standing there, staring at me with an amused look on his face and puffing on his cigarette. The other guys were now hanging around the cars, yelling back and forth at each other humorously, waiting to leave. I locked eyes with Billy Darley for what seemed like several minutes, but could only have been several seconds until he threw his cigarette down on the pavement, smashing it under his foot. He started for the car again, but held my gaze for a second longer before finally turning away.
Slamming his open hand on the hood of the car a few times, I heard him shout, "Let's go!"
All the men piled inside the cars, both engines roaring to life. Windows rolled down, they screamed out the windows as they reversed out into the street. I looked to the black mustang as it stopped to shift to drive in the street. Billy sat behind the driving wheel, arm hanging out the window and he flashed me one last curious glance before a small smirk broke his hard features and sped off down the road, the red mustang close behind.
I quickly let out the air in my lungs I had subconsciously been holding during my staring competition with Billy. My burning lungs greedily found relief with the cold air.
I still felt fear and the consciousness of my slipping sanity, but seeing both Darley's and their gang, I felt another uprising of the determination I had for taking them all out. For almost a year they had all been free to do whatever they pleased. They lived their lives how they wanted, enjoying the pain and discomfort of others; enjoying mine and Delia's.
I stood up still feeling weak, but no longer feeling helpless. Raw anger and hate boiled through me and I knew that if I still had been in my right mind that that would have been enough to frighten me into submission alone. I knew I was strong enough to handle this now. They looked tough, but I could tell they were all cowards on the inside. I was anticipating on showing them what it was like to be the victim this time, but more than anything I was fervently looking forward to cutting that smirk off of Billy Darley's face.