“I was just askin’. We’re peeps now.”
A little bubble of amusement pops inside me, and I actually laugh through my tears. I didn’t realize how much I missed this part of my life. These men. For a moment, I’m a child again, and Gerard and my father are bickering in the front seat, just like him and Hawk. I guess some things never change.
There’s a subtle beep, and Hawk checks his phone. He took over tracking Damon as soon as Fender showed him the app.
“Yo, yo, yo. Gambit, slow down. We’re getting close.”
I pull myself forward in the muscle car’s back seat.
The sun has nearly set, and there’s more darkness in front of us than anyone would like.
“Slow, slow, flick your high beams on.” He watches the phone and the wide-open desert stretched out in front of us simultaneously. “You don’t want to run over the son of a bitch.”
His phone beeps more frequently now, my heartbeat mimicking the riling tempo. As soon as the bright lights come on, we can make out a figure in the distance.
“There!” I point, nearly nose diving into the front seat.
19
Damon
My skin meltslike a piece of processed cheese underneath the late-day sun.
I don’t know how long I’ve been lying here. It feels like forever, drifting in and out of consciousness, the pain constant and agonizing.
What a perfectly pathetic end to a perfectly pathetic life. No dreams achieved, no mark left on the world, and one very sorry attempt at love. That is what my headstone will read. Here lies Damon La Rue: He just was.
I know I should be dreaming about Liv, wishing she were here, wishing things were different, but all I can think about is how much better her life will be without me. I’m dead weight. Have nothing to offer her except my heart, and really, what good is that? It can’t put food on the table, or a roof over her head, or money in her pocket. It’s worthless. A hunk of junk stuck in my chest.
No, this is right. This is how it should be.
She’ll move on. Find someone worthy of her. An art geek or some shit who will understand her world. I’d just stick out like a broody biker. Probably scare all her artsy friends half to death.
A tear slides down my cheek for no good reason. Like I’m upset or something. Like it’s crushing to feel your first taste of happiness get ripped away.
“Fuck!” I scream in pain. All sorts of pain. Physical, emotional, the goddamn fucking spectrum.
And then I cry. Yes, I fucking cry. Alone, dying in the desert, with only my tears to keep me company.
My mind wanders as the distant sounds of airplanes soar through the clear, blue sky. I’m hot, thirsty, light-headed, and all I can see is a brown wasteland through blurry vision. I idly wonder which will kill me first: the stab wound or dehydration. Whichever it is, I hope it happens fast.
The sun is beginning to set, and vultures are circling overhead. They smell the fresh blood. They know I’m prime prey.
My stomach turns as nausea sets in. The sun has dried out my nose and mouth, making it feel like rubber. I’m all sorts of fucked up, and suddenly so very, very cold. I shiver as a vulture lands beside me and investigates. I can see the hunger in his predatory eyes. He knows soon enough he’s going to feast.
Hopping two inches forward, he brings his long, curved beak close to my wound.
“Back off.” I kick at him, and he hisses as if to say, ‘Too little, too late, you’re already a dead man. You’re already mine.’
A friend of his joins the party, and things take a turn for the worse. They begin to peck at me, hitting my wound with their hooked beaks.
“Ahhh!” I scream and kick at them with the little fight I have left. They fly away, but don’t go far, circling over my head.
For fuck’s sake, I’m trapped in a Wild West horror movie. They land near me again, determined to make me dinner.
“C’mon, you motherfuckers! You wanna go!” I shout, mostly helpless with my hands tied behind my back.
One hisses again, spreads its wings and rushes me. It pecks harder this time, on a hunt for a fresh organ. The other goes for my face, pecking at my eye. A searing pain stabs me straight through the head, and then half the world goes black.
