Ricky's Book! Chapter 2 of Deals: The Reaper Saga

Confession time. I love my story. It's the one thing I look at that I've created (or am in the process of creating) and think, wow. This is awesome. But I HATE chapter one. I wasn't about to tell you all that before you read it, because then you'd all have expectations or something. But now that you've all read it, I'm safe to admit that (and if you haven't read it yet, SHAME ON YOU. Click here).

So now that my least favorite chapter is done and away with, we can start with the juicy stuff.

Muahahahaha.....ha....ha

So now I will avoid the temptation to start writing explanations and anecdotes and let you get right to it.

Enjoy.

Chapter 2

            It was 3:00 AM the night before. The sky was smeared with a layer of clouds that blotted out the stars, leaving the flickering campfire in front of me the only light I had. Across from me Cole sat on a cooler in front of his roofless Jeep. A little less than an hour ago we had left the main road and driven toward the sporadic trees of the orchard we now sat in. It was cold. The wind carried the fall air through the barren trees to where we sat, chilling our skin. To me it seemed almost like a warning – freezing me, telling me to turn back.

            “Catch.” The word snapped me out of my daze just in time for me to grab what was tossed at me before it collided with my chest. A can of beer.

            “Drink up, Al,” Cole grinned at me through the flames. “You need to relax a little.”

            I frowned at the can in my hand. I had never liked drinking, but Cole loved it. He had invited me to a drink on more occasions than I could count, but I almost always turned him down. Maybe it was the taste I didn’t like, or maybe it was the affect that it has on people, but I could never seem to muscle the liquid down.

            “Not now, Cole,” I tossed the can back to him, “I think I need to be a little more focused than relaxed.” It was a shallow excuse, but by now he was used to it. He frowned and cracked it open for himself, letting foam spill out of the shaken can. My eyes dropped back down to the fire. I really was thirsty, but even if he had offered me water I wouldn’t have drank it. My stomach was in a knot and satisfying my thirst was close to the last thing on my mind.

            “Al,” he stood up and walked around the fire to where I sat. “Alex.” He repeated my name as he hunched over me and put a hand on my shoulder. “You’re not thinking about backing out are you?” It was more of a threat than a question. If I gave up now, Cole would never let me forget it. Of course, it wouldn't be the first time I had backed out of our plans on account of them being absolutely idiotic or dangerous, but this time was a bit different.

“Doing this was your idea,” he added.

            “I know.” I said, shrugging his hand off. The entire thing was my idea, but I was starting to have second thoughts. I was stuck. Cole had me in the palm of his hand and he wasn’t going to let me go. My head was swimming with reasons why we should just turn around and leave, but I knew that nothing I said would change Cole’s mind.

I looked through the trees toward the large house that was set just outside the orchard. My house. I could feel anger and hatred burning in my chest at the sight, fueling me, reminding me why we came.

“I’m not backing out,” I stood up and forced a smile at Cole. “Put out the fire. We’ve got a house to rob.”

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Cole laughed, clapping me on the back with his free hand. He pushed past me to the cooler he had been sitting on and lifted it into the back of the Jeep. I pulled my empty backpack over my shoulder and waited as Cole looked for a way to put out the campfire. He walked around for a minute, kicking dirt onto the flames, but the autumn leaves that littered the ground kindled the flames more than killing them. He looked around for another way to put out the fire when his eyes settled on the can in his hand.

“Dude, if I pour this on the fire, do ya think it'll blow up since it’s alcohol?” Cole laughed as he tempted the though.

I rolled my eyes at him. “I dunno. It’s more water than actual alcohol in beer, so probably not.”

He looked at the can, shook his head, and took another drink. “Screw it. I don’t want to waste this on the fire.”

I sighed loudly. I had had enough of Cole already for the night, and drunk Cole wasn’t much better. “Just piss on it or something.” I said, not hiding the annoyance in my voice at all.

“Relax, man!” he laughed. I shot the dirtiest look I could at Cole. I hated it when he said that to me. It was as if he was somehow stating that he was better than me, or that I was an embarrassment to him. I turned back to the Jeep and ripped the lid off of the cooler, uncovering two cans of beer that floated in a pool of ice and water. “Relax? We’re about to rob a house, and you’re getting drunk like we’re at a party! Do you want to get caught?” I whispered loudly in a voice that tore at the back of my throat.

“Put the fire out. With this.” I demanded, and shoved the cooler into his hands.

Cole rolled his eyes at me as he took the cooler. His ridiculous behavior only angered me more. I turned away, trying to calm myself, and started walking through the trees toward the house.  A few seconds later I heard the hiss of a dying fire behind me.

“The fire’s out!” Cole called as he ran to catch up with me. “And look at this,” I didn’t even glance over at him, “I brought the last two beers!” he finished. He proudly held one of the two cans in front of me, but I just pushed it away. “What?” Cole pressed, putting on a ridiculous pout. “You don’t want it?” I ignored him again. I could tell that he was just trying to get me out of my foul mood, but I still didn’t want to be content with Cole. “Ah well, more for me.” He said as he stuffed the cans into his backpack.

He half skipped to keep up with my quick pace. “Dude, I can’t believe we’re about to do this!” His voice was starting to grind at my nerves. “I mean, breaking in and robbing the house of your own father?”

I snapped. I stopped dead and grabbed Cole’s shoulder, flinging him around to face me. I stuck my face in his, hatred lacing my voice as I growled, “He is not my father! And that,” I jabbed my finger toward the house, “is not his house!” I took a deep breath. I didn’t realize that my left fist was curled around the collar of Cole’s shirt. I let go, scowling as I pushed Cole back, and started again for the house.

“Geez, man,” Cole forced a laugh and brushed himself off. “You coulda just told me. No need to get your panties all bunched up.” He swatted me on the back lightly, as if telling me everything was fine. I never got how he could do that – I’d blown up at him a hundred times before and he always just shrugged it off as if nothing had happened. I was probably way too harsh on him. He didn’t deserve getting yelled at that much, but this time he did deserve it. I was not going to let him call that man my father, or say the house is his.

Twelve years ago, a few days after getting the news that I was an orphan, a greasy looking man with dark hair – an attorney, I think – told me that since I was my father’s only child, the house, and everything in it, was left to me. The orchard, to the front door, to the roof was all mine, or it would be if I were 18. The greasy man told me that they couldn't leave a five-year-old boy all alone in a house he couldn't legally own, but that I shouldn’t worry. Everything was already taken care of. He said that my Uncle Scott – or Officer Harris, as he made me call him – and Aunt Eveline, being my closest relatives were going to move in and take care of me. Scott and Eveline, who had previously lived in a run-down apartment complex, gladly moved in the next day.

Scott worked on the Paradise police force. He always said that he loved his job because he was “giving back to the community,” but I’m sure he only liked it because he never had to do anything at all. Hardly anything ever happened in Paradise that needed police attention.

The two story house was now just in front of us. It was fairly large, with an elaborate stained wood deck and patio. The windows looked like they were new and the lawn around the house was immaculately cut. At least they’re taking good care of it for me, I thought, although I knew they had absolutely no intention of handing the house over. At least, not willfully.

Suddenly my anger disappeared, replaced by the cold chill of nerves. I felt my entire body tense up as we arrived at the back of the house. Here we go, I thought, trying to motivate myself, but I only felt more nervous with every step.

“You ready Cole?” I tried to keep my voice steady.

“Ready, captain,” If he heard the fear in my voice, he ignored it. “What’s the game plan?” He grinned excitedly. It kind of freaked me out how happy and content he seemed with all of this. I brushed it off though and told him.

“The locks on the window to my old bedroom are broken, so we’ll go in through there,” I had broken the locks myself after Scott put the new windows in. I snuck out so often that I didn’t want him locking me out in the middle of the night if he found out I was gone. “Once we’re inside, well,” I shrugged, “use your imagination.” I wanted to take that back right after I said it. Cole’s imagination could get us both in big trouble.

“Speaking of imagination,” Cole grinned as he reached into his backpack, “have you ever spray painted the inside of a house before?” From the backpack he produced two cans of black spray paint and held one toward me.

I looked uncomfortably at the can in Cole’s hand. The plan had started out so simple – get in, rob a few things and get out – but Cole was over-complicating things. Stealing from my own house is one thing, but vandalism was far more. And the house did technically belong to me. I wouldn’t want to spray paint my own house. But it wasn’t my house yet, it was still Scott’s. The thought of ruining a few of my uncle’s things almost made the idea seem worth it.

“You gonna take this?” Cole’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

“Uh,” I stuttered, “yeah.” I took the can quickly. I could tell that Cole was worried that I was going to run away or screw something up, so I forced a smile. “Alright then,” I breathed, barely more than a whisper, “let’s go.”

I quietly shuffled toward my old bedroom window and popped the mesh screen out. I threw the screen behind us as Cole pushed the window open a crack. He nodded at me, trying to encourage me as we both slipped our fingers into the gap and slowly lifted the window. Cole went first, he awkwardly hoisted himself up and wormed his way through the gap, twisting his body so that he’d come out on his feet. I flinched at the slight clacking of the blinds and waited until he pulled them up. I followed quickly after, pulling myself over and landing next to Cole.

The room in front of me was unrecognizable. The walls, which were once a soft blue, were now a pale pink. The furniture I had left there – my bed, dressers, desk, and a few other things – was gone, replaced by smaller, more childish looking versions. There were dolls and toys littered all over, together with clothes, ribbons, and shoes. In one corner of the girlish mess was a bed with bright pink sheets.

I felt my blood boiling inside me. This room used to be my only sanctuary in the house, now it was an ugly pink mess. I was disgusted, offended even, that my privacy had been invaded like this. I glared at the small girl tucked in her bed as if it were her fault, though I knew it wasn’t.

I sneaked across the room, kicking toys out of my path as I went, passing a dresser and a double-door closet on my left. Cole was just ahead of me, picking his own path to the bedroom door. I glanced over at the girl. Sharon. She was born a few years after my Aunt and Uncle moved in. If I knew her under other circumstances, I’d probably think she was a sweet little girl, except for that I’d spent her entire life cleaning up after her. She was only six years old, but she already hated me. It was as if she was born with it, like it was in her blood.

Suddenly a sharp hiss tore through the stillness of the room as Cole unloaded black spray paint onto the walls. I sprang across the room and yanked the can out of his hand. “You idiot!” I whispered, “You’re gonna wake her up!” I pointed to Sharon, who mumbled and rolled over.

“Go, go!” I shoved the can into Cole’s chest. Cole took the can and bolted for the door, and I followed close behind. I grabbed the door and turned to pull it shut, only to look straight back into the eyes of a wide-awake little girl.

“Alex?” Sharon croaked as she stretched her little arms over her head. “Why are you here?” Her eyebrows curved downward in a frown. “You’re not supposed to be here,” she accused sleepily. I froze. We’d been caught by a six year old. She groggily sat up and rubbed her eyes.  “I’m gonna tell my daddy!”

I jumped forward and pinned her shoulders back on her bed. “Oh no, no, no,” I whispered to her. I had to stop her, but what could I do?

“Let go of me!” She squealed. My hand, almost on its own, clapped over her mouth, hushing her scream. She kicked and flung her arms at me angrily, huffing and screaming through my fingers. I could feel my breath catch in my throat as I held her down. I was digging myself into a hole. I knew I couldn’t let her go tell Scott, but at the same time I was only making things worse by holding her down. Desperate, I pressed my hand harder over her mouth.

“Sharon!” I half-whispered, “Sharon, listen!” She only fought more. “Listen to me!” She stopped kicking and looked up at me, her expression scrunched into the angriest scowl that her six year old face could muster. My mind raced for something to say, some way to fix the situation. I loosened my grip a little, an idea forming in my head. “You have to be quiet, okay?” I urged as I slowly took my hand away from her mouth.

“Why?” Her angry little voice seemed as loud as thunder compared to my whisper.

“Because,” I paused, looking in to her blue eyes, “I’m not here alone. Cole is here with me.” I could almost see the color drain from her face as I said it. Sharon was terrified of Cole, and she had every right to be. Cole and I were constantly feeding her made up stories about how Cole was a mass murderer, drug dealer, and kidnapper. Every time Cole saw her, he’d make sure to freak her out in some way or another. It started out as a way to keep her away from Cole and me, but had since become something of a cruel joke between us.

“Cole?” her voice was barely more than a squeak.

“Yeah,” I nodded, “but I don’t think he saw you yet.” I softened my tone in an attempt to sound like I was on her side. “Here’s what we’ll do.” I sat her up in front of me, trying to seem calm and kind, though my heart was practically beating through my ribs. I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt for what I was about to do, but I felt that I had no choice. “You’re gonna have to hide so he can’t find you, okay?” She nodded nervously. It was working. “You go hide in that closet,” I nodded toward the double-door across from her bed, “and be as quiet as you can. I won’t tell Cole where you are. Got it?”

She nodded again. “Yeah,” I could barely hear her whisper.

I stood up and backed away a little, my finger pressed to my lips. She slid off of her bed, eyes wide and face turned down in a nervous frown, and hurried to the closet. Shakily, she pulled the double doors open and slipped inside. I followed her and held the doors. “Remember,” I whispered, “stay quiet. And don’t come out until I tell you it’s safe.” She looked up at me, her eyes filling with terrified tears, and mouthed, “okay.” I forced a pathetic smile, as if to reassure her, then silently swung the doors closed.

I turned and snatched a hair ribbon off of the floor and hastily tied the closet’s two doorknobs together, locking Sharon inside. I leaned backwards against the doors. I felt awful for what I was doing, and the helpless whimpering coming from behind me only made it worse. I dragged my arm across my forehead, wiping away the sweat that had dampened my face, and stepped away from the closet.

The faster we get this over with, the better, I thought, and left the room to find Cole.

* * *

Cole had gone down the stairs and was admiring Officer Harris’ private office. As he walked over to the large oak desk, spray painting as he went, he slipped out of his backpack and retrieved a beer. He carelessly opened it up and set it on the desk next to an expensive looking laptop. Curious, Cole opened the computer and turned it on. While waiting for the machine to boot up, he occupied himself by browsing through the drawers in the desk and the cabinet behind him.

“Well, looky here.” Cole said as he rummaged through a drawer, finding a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

Suddenly the laptop blared a loud sound effect as the welcome screen appeared. Cole spun around at the sound, knocking the beer can onto the keyboard as he did. The screen flickered and buzzed for a moment, and then went dark.

“Oops.” Cole murmured casually, and to top off the damage, blasted a stream of spray paint onto the laptop’s screen. He then turned back to the lighter and cigarettes and took them from the drawer. After placing a cigarette between his lips he flipped the lighter open and ignited the flame. He looked at the fire for a moment, an idea coming to him. Eagerly, he lifted the nozzle of his can of spray paint up to the flame and released a burst of paint.

“Whoa!” Cole whispered excitedly, letting the cigarette fall out of his mouth as the room lit up briefly from the fiery stream of paint. A smile spread across his lips at the pyrotechnics he had just created. He positioned the lighter and can again, this time aiming the blast at the bookshelf behind him. A childish grin spread across his face as he fired stream after stream at the cabinets, leaving scorch marks and paint everywhere he sprayed. He fired a long burst at the desk, trying to write his name into the cured wood, and the room lit up even more as the loose papers that littered the desk caught fire.

He looked around nervously for a second, grabbed the can he had tipped over and, finding it empty, tossed it aside. He reached into his backpack, found the other beer, opened it, and dumped it onto the fire. The flames crackled and hissed, a few pages going out and others falling to the floor as the alcohol splashed around, but the flames had already spread too far. In seconds the fire spread to the carpet, and the desk started to smoke.

Cole looked wide-eyed at the growing fire that he had created. “Time to go,” he said to himself, and ran for the stairs.

* * *

I knew that I was supposed to be stealing things, but I couldn’t seem to bring myself to take anything. I kept on telling myself that it was my house anyway, that the will said that the house and everything in it was mine, but I couldn’t do it. I only stood in the living room, inspecting some of the Blu-Ray movies next to the television when I heard a noise from the next room over. I hunched over, panicked, searching for a hiding place. My options were slim – behind the couch or under the coffee table. I hesitated for a moment until I saw a shadow walking toward me from the hallway. Instinctively, I dove for the ground next to the couch, trying vainly to hide myself from whoever was coming my way, but it was too late.

“Alex!” the shadow whispered.

“Cole?” I exhaled a sigh of relief and stood up. “Man, you scared the crap outta-“
            “We’ve gotta go.” Cole interrupted. “Now.” He immediately started toward Sharon’s bedroom.

I grabbed my full can of spray paint from the coffee table and followed cautiously, “Why? What’s up?” I asked. Cole’s carefree demeanor was gone, and it was concerning me.

“I’ll tell you when we’re out. Now, come on!” Cole urged, half sprinting back down the hallway.

We hurried through the house and back to Sharon’s room to escape through the window. Cole pushed the door open and paused for a moment.

“Where’s the girl?” Cole asked, confused.

I hesitated for a moment, a train of thoughts flashing through my head in less than a second. Should I let her out? No, I can’t. But it wouldn’t look good if Scott found her tomorrow locked in her own closet like that. But Cole’s moving pretty fast. Was he caught? If he was caught then there’s no time to open it. Do I even care to open it? Should I tell Cole? Finally, I made up my mind. “Tell you later!” I said, echoing his own response to me as I took the lead and bolted toward the window. “Come on!”

We stumbled out the open window and onto the cold lawn. I reached up to close the window, but Cole was already halfway to the orchard. I left the window as it was and sprinted after him, glimpsing back at the house as I went. One of the windows of the house was lit from the inside.

“You were caught?” I yelled to Cole as we barreled through the orchard.

“No,” Cole huffed back, the Jeep now in sight, “but if we had stayed there any longer we would’ve been toast!” He pulled the keys out of his pocket, laughing hysterically at some joke I apparently didn't get.

We hurdled into the roofless Jeep, started the engine and sped out of the orchard, tearing up the fertile ground as we went. Cole quickly found our way to the main road and recklessly sped across the asphalt. Is he crazy? He’s gonna kill us! I thought

“How drunk are you, Cole?” I yelled over the wind whipping past us.

“Not at all!” Cole yelled back, grinning wildly. “I only had one beer!”

“One?” I pressed. “What about the other three?” I could tell that Cole wasn’t telling me something.

“Okay, two!” Something about his smile sickened me. “I had those two at the fire, and the other two,” he shot me a mischievous look, “I...  well I didn't drink them.”

"What did you do with them?” I asked, worried.

“Forget about it.” Cole rolled his eyes. “Hey, did you get anything?” He was trying to change the subject. I decided to let him for now.

“No,” I responded.

“Paint anything?” Cole tried.

“No, I hardly had time to do anything at all with you rushing us out like that!” I defended, hoping that he’d give me some answer as to why he did rush us out.

The Jeep was closing in on a large white truck. Cole punched the gas and, while thoughtlessly tailgating the truck, said, “It’s cool. I think I did enough for the both of us.” He winked. “I found a one-stop-steal: the officer’s office.”

Cole nudged his backpack over to me, and I took a look inside. “Cell phone, tablet, money, smokes,” I said as I shuffled through the contents. “Looks like you only missed the laptop.” I tried at a joke to relax myself a little. It didn’t work.

“Yeah, I had a bit of a problem with that part.” Cole said while pushing closer and closer to the white truck’s bumper. “Could this guy drive any slower?” he yelled as he swung the Jeep to the left side of the road and roared passed the truck, honking as he went.

I leaned across the seat and pushed Cole’s hand off of the horn. “Shut up, Cole!” I shouted. “You’re not exactly helping us get away clean here!”

“Relax, Al!” Cole yelled back, slightly irritated.

I shot Cole a rude look and turned around in my seat to look at the truck. It was coming up on our bumper fast with its horn blaring.

“Ha, looks like I pissed him off.” Cole laughed.

“Yeah, looks like you did.” I responded, loading my voice with as much sarcasm as I could. I started to turn back toward the front when something caught my eye. Behind the truck in the distance, in the direction of the house we had just left, was a pillar of smoke billowing up into the night sky.

“Cole,” I said flatly, the sight still not fully registering to me, “What did you do?”

“What?” I just cut the guy off!” Cole spat, obviously annoyed.

“No!” I yelled, almost hysterically. “The house! Is that smoke?” I could feel my voice shaking as I pointed at the gray cloud rising above the horizon.

Cole pressed his foot a little harder on the gas pedal, letting the speedometer rise past 80 miles per hour. “Sit down Alex. Relax.” I didn’t realize that I had stood up in my seat, my hands on the Jeep’s crossbars for support, but I didn’t sit back down. “Okay.” Cole confessed. “I got a little carried away,” he paused, “but it’s not like he doesn’t deserve it!”

“It’s not about him!” I yelled, the wind whipping in my ears as I stood in the roofless Jeep, my eyes still trained on the smoke.

“Then who is it about, huh?” Cole shouted, “You? You and your stupid inheritance?”

Under any other circumstance, that comment might’ve offended me, but I hardly even heard it. “No!” I screamed, my voice frantic, “It’s…” I froze, the sick realization hitting me. “Sharon.”

“What about Sharon?” Cole shot, his voice raising. Ahead of us two large headlights appeared from around a distant corner.

“They won’t find her, Cole!” I was in a full panic. “She won’t get out!”

“What? Why?” Cole asked, shocked by my terror.

I ducked back into the Jeep, still on my feet, but out of the wind. “We’ve gotta turn around, now.” I commanded. “NOW!” I reached for the steering wheel.

“Hey!” Cole pushed me away. “No! Are you crazy? We’ll be caught!” The headlights grew closer as the truck behind us continued honking.

“No, you’re crazy!” I screamed uncontrollably. “We have to go back now! They won’t find her! She won’t get out!”

“Why?” Cole yelled. The headlights were almost in front of us.

“Because she’s in the-“ Suddenly the headlights swerved sharply into our lane.

“SON OF A-“ Cole was cut short by the sound of thousands of pounds of metal shredding into each other. The huge yellow Hummer H3 collided violently with our Jeep at deadly speed, crushing the two cars, especially the Jeep, into unrecognizable chunks of steel.

Suddenly I was being hurled through the air, the impact throwing me from my seat. The world seemed to move in slow motion as I soared headfirst toward the asphalt. I heard a crack, I felt my skull shatter, my neck and back break. My body exploded in pain as I skidded across the rough ground, my skin tearing open. I tried to scream, but all I could manage was a weak groan. As my body rolled to a stop, I could feel something warm and wet spreading across the ground, soaking my clothes and hair. Blood. As my vision dimmed I saw Cole bleeding in the wreckage. Through the broken windows of the H3 was a bloody dead man hunched over the steering wheel.

From behind the Jeep the white truck dodged around the wreck, its brakes screeching. It had missed the wreck, but now the enormous tires were heading straight for my limp body. I closed my eyes, took a last breath and then heard two brief thumps accompanied by the crunching of bones.

The smell of burnt rubber filled my nostrils as my body fell lifeless.