“Why the fuck are we in Indianapolis? It’s just Chicago without technology or education,” Rythe continues his complaining.
“We’re in Indiana because this is where Jonah said he’d be.”
“You met in Indiana for Halloween every year?”
“Yeah, it became a family tradition. Jonah was on a school
trip, Justin and I were on a job. We just happened to be close by so Jonah
snuck out and met us a Halloween Festival.”
“Hicks, Indiana is full of hicks.”
“Have you ever been to Indiana?”
“No.”
“Exactly, it’s not full of hicks. There’s cities too,” I try
to make a joke.
I don’t think Rythe has ever been outside of Illinois, or
even Chicago. He’s also been a little on edge about the transfusion I forced on
him, and I didn’t exactly apologize about the whole fiasco. Last night he drove
off somewhere, and wouldn’t let me go with him. Wherever he went, he came back
different. I don’t know if I’d say he’s more aggressive or he’s just not
putting up with my shit anymore. It’s a good look for him, somewhat charming,
maybe even attractive.
I hadn’t been to this place since Justin died, it was his
spot, and he was a little upset he’d miss it the day he died. We had been
chasing that vampire brat for way too long and it dragged past schedule. He
wasn’t happy about missing Halloween, in fact I’d say he was pissed. Was he
pissed at me? I don’t remember. Maybe he was.
The first time we came to this place, we showed up just
after midnight. Everything was shutting down and people were heading home.
Justin and Jonah picked me up and we just flew in through the back. We spent
hours running the rides ourselves, playing games in the fun house, and making
our own fair foods. We actually felt like a little family then. After that,
we’d do it every year. It was like the reset button for us. We could be furious
at each other, until that day.
“You know, we have Jonah’s home address. We could just hire
someone from the Shadow Syndicate to blow it up,” Rythe suggests.
“He’s got neighbors, we can’t do that.”
“Controlled demolition, explode the house in on itself,
burry him in the ruble, make sure he doesn’t come back from the explosions.
Shadow Syndicate probably has hundreds of people than can get the job done.
Might have to pay a rush fee, but we can get it done.”
“We’re not blowing up anything. He wants a fight, a show
down. He wants to finally prove he can beat me in a fight. I’m going to prove
to him that he’s still a runt. You’re here to get people to safety and help if,
and I mean if, he gets the upper hand.”
“We’ve been going with your plans this whole time, and I think
it’s time to mention, they’re all stupid. Really stupid.”
“Well, if you can manage to stay sober, just for tonight,
you don’t have to deal with any of my plans anymore and you can go back to
stalking people.”
“I think that’s better than dragging old ladies into danger
so you can dig up a rotting corpse,” Rythe smiles as if he just won a war. “Oh
look, corndogs, I love corndogs.”
I know what he’s doing. He’s poking and prodding at me. He
wants me to get angry with him, try him. Almost as if he has some ace up his sleeve.
What he really wants is an apology and I refuse to apologize for making him
into a better person, a stronger person. He was strung out on drugs even if he
won’t admit it and he keeps telling me I was wrong but nothing has come of it.
“Do you feel good about how you’ve handled this,” Rythe asks
finishing his corndog.
“What?”
“Do you feel good knowing all of this could have been prevented.”
“It couldn’t have been prevented.”
“Oh, but it could have. I wanted to turn him in, but you
needed proof. We had proof, and could have turned him in, but you were more
focused on rehabbing an addict. We could have killed him at his home, but you
wanted to face him on his own terms. Now we’re here in bumblefuck Indiana, not
even a city like Indianapolis, or Terre Haute, Bloomington, but the middle of
fucking nowhere.”
I place my hands on his shoulders, “Listen, you don’t
understand what we’re going through, but one day it’ll make sense. This will
all be done tonight.”
“You’re right,” he places his hands on my wrists. “It ends
tonight, one way or another. Because if you can’t get the job done,” his hands are
getting hotter, “I’ll call some people to get it done.”
“Are you trying to burn me?”
“No, but if you get burnt it’s only because you meddled with
something you don’t understand, that’s why people don’t play with fire. But you
played with fire.”
“Shut the fuck up, and play cornhole,” I snatch my hands
free.
I grab a beanbag and toss it at the holes cut out into the
wooden stand. Something is wrong with him. Rythe has been mad at me since I’ve
met him, but now he’s scary. Almost as if something deep inside of him had been
woken up. Maybe I did make a mistake.
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