Part Forty-Seven: Going AWOL

I have to get out of here. I think the military is onto me. They know I'm only seventeen. They must know. Surely that incident in the cafeteria last week tipped them off for sure. I didn't mean to stab Private Morrison in the thigh with a fork. It just sort of happened. One minute he's touching me under the table, and the next his thigh has a fork in it. I don't even remember doing it.

But I think they know I'm not eighteen. They know I'm Ian Gallagher and not Lip. I have to get out of here before they come after me. Because they are coming after me, I just know it. I have to leave. There is no time to waste.

But how? I can't just walk out of here, they'd catch me. I need something fast, really fast. I spot a military helicopter abandoned. If I'm fast enough they'd never catch me. I climb inside without being seen and try to start the rotor. I manage to get the helicopter off the ground and into the air, I am unable to fly it and I crash.

I'm okay. They're coming. I have to get out of here. I climb out of the helicopter, and make a break for it. I run at full speed with nothing but my uniform and boots. I leave my belongings behind. I can't go back for them. There isn't time. They're going to catch me.

I don't stop running. I like running. I run until I can no longer see the base when I turn around. I run until a truck pulls over to pick me up. I hitch a ride with a strange man in a truck.

"You going anywhere," he asks.

"Chicago," I say, "I just feel like I need to go there. I have to get away. They're after me."

"Who's after you? Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"They know I'm not eighteen."

But he doesn't ask any more questions. He takes me as far as he can. He drops me off at a McDonald's and gives me ten dollars. I know ten dollars won't get me far, but it will at least get me food.

I can't get anywhere with the change from my lunch, and the army is probably still chasing me. They can't be far behind. I need to get home to Chicago. I have a feeling going back there is the answer. I spot a man in the back of the restaurant staring at me. He's been staring at me since I sat down. When I dive into my Big Mac he comes over to my table.

"I'll give you a hundred bucks to suck me off," He offers flat out in a whisper.

When I finish my Big Mac I am on my knees in the men's room in front of his crotch. I need the money. I can do this. This is something I'm good at. I don't hesitate. I do I need to do. He gives me the money and offers me a ride. I take both.

I earn fifty more bucks by blowing him in the car. He drops me off forty miles from where I want to be. I use the money I earned from him to buy myself something to wear before I hitch a ride with some people on a bus going into the city.

They're all going into the city to start over. They're coming from small towns and troubled backgrounds and they just want to erase the past and start over. I listen to everything they say. One of the boys has an interview with an electrician in the city; a girl is going to be an Off-Broadway actress. They all have big dreams and ambitions.

Once we arrive in the city they offer me a place to stay. The boy who wants to be an electrician takes me into his home. On the first day back we go shopping and I use the rest of my money. I have to get a job so I can make a living for myself.

I find myself on my knees a lot more than usual earning a hundred to two hundred dollars each time I suck some pathetic man's dick. I am able to buy myself some clothes, a new phone, and whatever I need in no time.

"You need to leave, Ian," says the boy I'm staying with.

"Why?"

"Because you're fucking mood swings are killing me. I can't keep up and it's giving me anxiety. I need you out. Frankly, your slutty behavior is dangerous and I don't want to be around it."

"It's the middle of winter, where will I go?" I ask.

"I don't fucking care. Get the fuck out."

"Please don't do this. I can do better."

"No you can't."

He slams the door in my face. I'm left in the hallway of his apartment clutching my bags. I have nowhere to go. I wander the streets until far past four a.m. An older man offers to take me in for the night. I can't go home. The Army will have called them. I just know it. I can't get my family involved in this. What if I go home and they turn me in.

I go home with the strange man. He locks his doors with two pad locks and a deadbolt. He forces me into the basement of him home and locks that door too. I begin to panic, until he shines a light in the middle of the room onto what appears to be a stripper pole.

"Dance, Pretty Boy," he says as he caresses my face. "Dance for me. My wife won't come in and catch us. Just dance and I'll let you go."

I straddle the pole and dance for him. He throws money at my feet as I improvise a dance. The man gives me something to take. It's a little round pill. I stare at it then at him. "I shouldn't."

"It'll help you relax," he says.

I put the pill on my tongue and continue to dance. Everything around me starts to blend together in a spiral of millions of bright colors. I see double of everything and they're distorted. I have to sit down. I look at my hands. It's like I have thirteen of them.

"How-how h-h-h-how do-do y-y-you feel?" the man asks as if from the inside of my brain. I lie down and stare at the spinning ceiling.

A/N: A big part of me wants to just skip to the part where Mickey finds Ian, but I can't. I have to get there. Ian's reckless behavior makes me want to cuddle him (I want to do that anyway, Cameron is sexy as freaking hell). It's difficult for me to write his chapters now. I'm still learning. Bear with me.