The Crow (Part 2)

Chapter 2 i Ring! My phone woke me up. My head hurt, my chest hurt. Basically, my whole body hurt. My mouth tasted like a scorpion took a shit in it. I looked at my phone. I had thirty-two missed calls and sixteen messages. It took a moment for me to look around because my neck felt like someone pasted it with cement. But I turned my head to my nightstand. An empty bottle of vodka, which I must’ve bought was lying on its side on my nightstand. “Mom’s gonna be so pissed,” and that set me off giggling, which made me groan. Damn headache. I decided a Tylenol or two or three was a necessity and tried to get up to get it. Whumpf! I didn’t make it, and my tall back to the gravity of the beat-up couch made me vomit. I needed help—badly. ii “You . . . WHAT?!” Yep, I was right. Mom and Dad were right in front of me. Mom was so mad that I thought for a second I could see steam coming out of her ears. Dad, on the other hand, was pretending to look disappointed but was trying to hide a smile playing on his lips. “Mom, let me explain—” She slapped my face. Stone silence. No one in my family has ever hit me. Not even a paddling. I did not know it was going to get this far. Dad sucked in a breath, his lips a grim line. I stared at Mom in amazement. She stared back, and started to cry. The perfect timing for Mom’s friend, Lisa, to come out with a notepad in her hand. She looked around. “What happened?” I got in my truck and drove away, leaving my mom and dad pleading after me. iii There was a man in a trench coat. And a crow mask. In front of a table with glass vials. “So,” the man murmured to himself. “It has begun.” Around him were people in glass cells. Test subjects. All of them were numbered. Number 437 was dead. All of them were dead. Number 481 was alive. “Some will be immune,” said the plague doctor. “But that’s just fine.” And he rubbed his gloved hands. There was still work to do. He selected a glass vial. iv “Hey!” I turned around. I was at school, going to 4th period. World History. A beautiful girl—that must’ve been new—was glancing at me a bit shyly. I didn’t notice. Her eyes were gorgeous. “Yeah, what’s up?” I asked. “Um, do you have the answers to the assignment in English 4?” She really did have beautiful eyes. I stuttered a bit while making an ass of myself. “Uh, y-yeah I do.” I dug around in my backpack, pulled out the sheet, and let her copy my answers. I watched her. She gave it back to me, looked into my eyes for a moment, thanked me, and quickly ran away while looking over her shoulder. “You know what you remind me of?” I whipped around. It was Daniel and Joshua. Joshua said, “A damn rooster,” and we all laughed, then went to class. v “Listen up! What—hey! Give that back! Stop that! Stop!” That was Mr. D’Nario, with his face red as lava and twice as hot. At least, that‘s what Rachel used to say. D’Nario was 27 and tried to act like a teenager, which was hilarious. Someone had grabbed his hat and tie and was slinking around the room doing a pretty good imitation of him. All of us were laughing. Daniel elbowed me. He was busting a gut. “HahahalookathisfacehahahaHA!” I bet you could have poured a little shot glass of water on his face and it would have sizzled and steamed. I chortled out my observation to Josh, and Josh fell out of his chair, whacking his head on a chair occupied by a Sophomore cheerleader. The cheerleader spilled out of it and sprawled on the floor. Joshua Armstrong looked horrified, and things went from bad to worse, for the cheerleader slapped him on the face. Well, at least she tried to. He was looking under her skirt, and the guy that was sitting next to her noticed this little dilemma . “You like that?” asked the guy rhetorically and punched Josh in the face. I would say he was the cheerleader’s boyfriend. That’s how my time in World History went. I think I left a gut in there. Yet I’m still laughing. vi I walked to the student parking lot, ready to get some Taco Bell for lunch, when that beautiful girl came out of nowhere. I stopped in my tracks. We were standing nose to nose. I could see every freckle that dotted around her nose and cheeks; we were that close. I guess you would call it love at first sight when we first saw each other. I don’t know. Then, very surprisingly, she kissed me. Not one of those little pecks I’d get from Rachel, it was a good full-on kiss. It went for a couple of minutes then she pulled away. We both blushed simultaneously. She looked at me solemnly. “Can I go with you?” I nodded. “Thank you.” she said, and she got in. I looked around subconsciously hoping no one was around to see that. There wasn’t. vii “I never did catch your name,” the girl said. I was about to say the same thing. “My name is Ryan Wallace. What’s yours?” “Kelly Morgan. That was a great kiss, wasn't it?” Like she had to ask. “The first and the best,” I replied. She looked at me with an expression that I couldn’t really read, “I didn’t startle you, did I?” She did but in a good way, so that’s what I said. “Okay, that’s good,” Kelly said. And we didn’t talk the rest of the way to Taco Bell. viii Well, as it turned out, I was wrong. Half of the school knew about the kiss, and I’ve been getting congratulatory pats on the back. “Hey, have you got into her pants yet?” asked Jack Ramington, the school’s legendary cocksman. “Dude, one little kiss.” Jack smiled. “That’s not what I saw,” he said, and pulled out his phone. I had a sinking suspicion about what was on the phone (besides the porn that was undoubtedly hidden in the virus-filled piece of metal and plastic) and was about to make a break for it when he showed it to me. “See? It’s all over Instagram. You’re gonna have one helluva nagging. And—” he slipped a condom into my pocket, “—you’re gonna need this.” “Fuck y—” I started, but Jack was gone already. I thought about throwing the rubber away but then thought better of it. Who knows. I thought. I might need it. I immediately got disgusted with myself. We weren't even dating! Plus, it was too soon after Rachel. Speaking of Rachel, she came over to me after 7th period. “Hi, Ryan,” she said. “Hey.” She looked around, then stood on tip-toes and kissed me on the lips. I pulled back hurriedly. “Woah, woah, woah! What the hell?” I asked incredulously. Rachel looked crestfallen. “Don’t you want me? We could do more—” I interrupted. “What the hell is wrong with you?” She shook her head. “Don’t you still like me?” she asked, staring a hole into her shoes. “Yes, but . . .” “We could go to your apartment, and we could have—” “No!” I yelled, backing up. Rachel’s head snapped up as if I slapped her. “No?” she whispered. She was shaking “No,” I confirmed. “You gave me up for that guy Robby. You broke me.” “Please.” I grabbed her by the shoulders. “Rachel, what is wrong with you? Why are you acting like this?” She stared at me and murmured something. “What?” “I’m jealous.” I asked, “Where’s Robby? Aren’t you dating him?” Rachel laughed a laugh that scared me a bit. “Oh, he ran off with some blonde chick who let him go all the way.” “Listen Rachel—” She shook her head. “No, Ryan. You're right. We broke it off. I shouldn’t have done this to you. I’ll go now.” She walked away. I tried to grab her arm, to tell her I was sorry, but she just shrugged me away. ix “So,” started Kelly. “What do you do for fun?” I thought about it. “I like reading and listening to music. What about you?” “I like going to the movies with my friends.” “Oh, yeah? What’s your favorite movie?” Kelly thought for a while, then said, “The Alamo.” I stared at her with an amazed look. “The Alamo? With Dennis Quaid?” Kelly looked at me innocently. “Yes. What’s so funny about it?” Her facial expression crushed the smile playing on my lips and the giggles that were sure to escape from them. I coughed. “Yes, the Alamo; that’s a good movie.” She relaxed a little. “I know how it sounds, me as a girl and all. But it’s really good.” I thought about it. “It is.” She stared into my eyes. I in hers. “If you guys kiss, I’m going to puke.” Kelly and I both jumped. It was Daniel. Of course. Sneaking on people was his idea of a habit. “Hey, Dan.” “Sup, Ryan. Who’s this?” Kelly introduced herself. Daniel Falcom nodded. “Hey, that’s cool. You guys . . . and girls wanna come over to my house?” We said sure. He studied us, then gave way to a sly smile. “Just don’t do the hanky-panky-spanky.” Kelly and I looked at each other and laughed. But we couldn’t promise anything, because as it turned out, it wouldn’t take us long to go steady. x Rachel let herself into Ryan’s apartment. Rachel still had a spare key. Something was . . . compelling her to be there. Commanding her. She just didn’t know what. After breaking up with Ryan, her life had turned into, well, a living hell. She was depressed, and after trying to get back with him and failing made it so much worse. Especially when that slutty bitch kissed Ryan. That pissed her off so fucking bad. She walked in the door. There was a man waiting for her. He had a crow mask on. It was a strange sight. Yet, she wasn’t scared. There was a rope scattered around the man’s feet. “Ah,” said the man. “Hello, Rachel.” Rachel fell to her knees. The man put his hands on her head. “I have a job for you. I want to send a message. Will you help me?” “Yes,” Rachel whispered. The man was staring at her, removing his hands. “I am the plague doctor, here to tell the world of a coming blackness. And only I can save you.” The man took a blank wooden board from behind the couch (it was going to be used for a science project, but that didn’t turn out very well), took out a knife from a pocket inside his jacket, and scratched out the letters onto the sign: I HAVE ARRIVED, THE SAVIOR The plague doctor removed the silver pendant from her breast pocket of her silk button-up shirt, and slipped the sign on her neck. “The time has come,” and he put the noose from the rope on the ground around her neck. Rachel moved to the dining table where she and Ryan had spent many times eating, stepped on a chair, tied the top of the rope to the ceiling fan, and stopped. This doesn’t feel right. The table was swept from under her feet and she killed herself. The plague doctor walked away, satisfied.