Fine Lines: Burn Outs #2

by Dani Hermit

  “Just far enough to get us somewhere to steal a car, moron. Then we’ll drive the rest of the way. And he’d probably agree to being something other than a kitten.” Thomas set Boris down and grabbed Matt by what was left of his T-shirt. “It’s not like you’re thinking of anything, and your rage isn’t getting Colton back. Stop being a bitch and brainstorm with me.”

  Matt opened his mouth to snarl back, but instead cried out in shock and pain. Boris had leapt onto his bare foot with all four sets of claws and was biting at his ankle. “What the fuck, fur-ball?” Matt shook his leg, trying to dislodge the angry cat.

  “Stop that! He’s this big,” Thomas held two fingers apart for a very tiny measurement. “You’ll break him.” Thomas heard a sound. “Shit, I think I hear a car. Let’s try to get a ride. C’mere, Boris. I need a prop.”

  Boris hissed at Thomas as he was picked up.

  “Jesus Christ, how can something so small be so sharp?” Matt swore, checking to make sure he still had all his toes.

  Thomas walked out into the road holding up Boris and waving. The car only had two choices, stop or hit him. Thankfully the woman driving the car chose stopping. Thomas walked up to the window.

  “Hi! Wow, you have the most beautiful curly hair. Do you like cats?” She nodded which Thomas took as permission to continue. He handed Boris to her. “Isn’t he adorable? But we’ve got to get him to the animal hospital right away. He was caught in a flaming tree that was hit by a tractor!”

  Playing along, Boris made the saddest little cat noise he could muster. From the side of the road, Matt waved sheepishly.

  “And that guy right there, well he’s a hero. He risked his life climbing up the tree that was on fire from the tractor to save him. But you can see he got a little cooked in the process.”

  The woman looked at Matt waving while indulging in petting and cuddling Boris. “Your kitty seems fine but you never know. What about your friend? Should I call an ambulance?”

  “Matt?” Thomas yelled to his partner. “You don’t need an ambulance do you?”

  The woman looked concerned. “Oh dear. And what about the poor farmer?”

  “The what?”

  “The farmer who was driving the tractor.”

  Thomas thought fast. “Oh, no. There wasn’t a farmer. The tractor was possessed.”

  Without missing a beat or calling him on it, the driver said, “Oh well. That can happen.”

  As soon as the woman had turned her attention back to Thomas, Matt made a hurry up gesture. He was all for pulling the woman out and stealing her car, but he didn’t think he could talk Thomas into that. Too bad Boris was a kitten right now.

  “What’s your kitty’s name?” The woman was enamored of Boris.

  “Fluffy McFluffball.” Thomas was very proud of himself for not using Boris’s real name.

  “Well, if you and your friend want to get in back, Fluffy can sit up here with me and I can drop you off at the next town. Just push my bags aside. And don’t worry Hammer and Anvil. We’ll avoid the roads with the flaming, haunted tractors.”

  Matt gave Thomas an angry glare, but turned on his best smile for the nice lady. “Can you hang on one minute? I don’t want to leave our stuff behind.” When she nodded while petting Boris and obviously in no hurry to start driving again, Matt turned to jog back over and grab what he could salvage of their stuff in the next three minutes. Behind him he heard Boris yowling again, then there was a surprised shriek.

  “Asshole! Hey, flame-brain dickhead!” Boris’s voice cut through the air as he hung half out of the car window, reverted to his Cat Fight form. “Get my clothes out of the corn. I put something important in my pocket.” He was completely naked, and the nice woman had most of his butt and tail in her face as he yelled at Matt.

  “Oh I’m sorry miss, uh,” Thomas was already in the back seat and not entirely sure what to do or say now. Boris transforming had not been part of his plan. “You see, we haven’t been entirely honest.”

  “This is Cat Fight.” The woman supplied. “And he’s naked and a CAT BOY! OMG can I scratch his ears?”

  “NO, you cannot scratch my ears,” Boris snapped back at her. “You already rubbed my tummy and fluffed my tail and --” He shut up and turned back to yell at Matt. “Make sure you get my pants, for the love of god.”

  “He’s a little testy, miss.” Thomas had fished around for a blanket and was making clicking come here kitty noises. “You see, um, he’s my cat boy. He only lets me fluff his tail in that form.”

  The woman blushed. “Oh! Oh goodness, how cute! I had no idea. I keep up on all the gossip but I’ve never even seen fanfic with you two!”

  Boris snatched the blanket from Thomas and sulked under it. “Kill me now,” He muttered, praying Matt would hurry the hell up with his pants.

  “Hi, I’m Callie, by the way,” The woman addressed Thomas from the mirror. “Is there a place you actually need to go?” She asked Matt when he was within earshot. “Because he’s probably going to tell me a comic book convention that’s under attack by giant snakes or something.”

  “We already had our giant snake episode for the week,” Matt said, passing Boris his clothes through the window. “We’re trying to get to a bar near Chicago, but anywhere that involves civilization would be fine. We can rent a car or whatever there. Ours is… super fucked and trust me when I say that the possessed tractor story is more believable.”

  Matt threw the bags into the trunk Callie popped open for him, trying not to crush the stuff she already had in there. He got in the back seat with Thomas and sighed. “I hope you’ve got those credit cards still, Boris. I need clothes and shoes.”

  Matt realized that he had been living in the same outfit he’d been wearing to work when Thomas waylaid him and stealing some of what Thomas had in his car as needed. But maybe five outfits between the two of them was barely enough for how long they were probably going to be on the road. At least they’d been able to wash them at the drug lord house Boris had borrowed for them.

  “You got it. And in case this is on the downlow, I’ll charge you an autograph for my Grandfather for my secrecy. He loves you guys.” She smiled and took off at top speed once everyone was settled.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Having to walk to the next town was never a part of Curtis’s plan but his attempts to shape Tremor’s energy so he could fly back home the same way he had caught up with the four men had fallen short. So he and Mythos had been walking the better part of an hour before Curtis spotted a quaint bed and breakfast. He sent Mythos in to get them a room because he was a bit more civilized looking. Not having any available, they walked a while longer before spotting the broke-down motel.

  Curtis knew how to handle this kind of place. He stole a key to an unoccupied room and marked it sold on the computer while the front desk person was on their phone in another part of the motel, paying no attention at all. Now they were waiting for Jammer to drive down and pick them up. Leo didn’t seem too disappointed. After all, Curtis had achieved his objective.

  Mythos had been giving him shit almost the entire way which would just be annoying but Curtis was struggling with what Colton had done to him. He needed to be clever. He needed to take a few more hits of his amazing blue drug. Yes, that would help. But first he had to do something about Mythos.

  “Well, what did he say?” Mythos leaned against the wall, obviously irritated.

  Leo told Curtis when he called that he didn’t need to talk to Mythos. That the anticipation would make their reunion all the more intense. Mythos was growing tired of waiting. And waiting with this wreck of a man was driving him insane. He couldn’t begin to understand why his beloved Leo would make Curtis his right hand man.

  For his part, Curtis just needed a little buzz then he could dig deep into his bag of tricks and handle this. Instead of answering Mythos, he grabbed his jacket and reached inside for his drug. “That furry little motherfucker stole my stash!”

  Mythos laughed. “
Oh? That’s too bad. However will you get through the night?”

  “Just fine.” Curtis snapped.

  He needed something to drown out Colton’s belief statements that still echoed in his head. They were getting louder and stabbing deeper at an alarming rate. It was as if his own insecurity and low self-worth had been cranked up to eleven.

  “But I have marching orders and like you, I have to follow them to the letter.”

  Curtis was going to improvise, make sure Mythos would stay put, and then find the nearest really good high he could. “The boss-man said I was to give you a ritual bath. You’re to strip naked and wait in the bathtub.” Curtis tried to summon some of that weird possessive emotion he felt around Matt’s energy in an attempt to bark a convincing order.

  It worked, if only because Mythos was so desperate for a crumb from Leo he’d believe anything plausible. “Did he? Well then, I will do as he wishes.” Mythos began undressing. “Shame such an honor is wasted on a little bitch like you.” He tossed his clothes at Curtis. “Shall I run the bath myself? Or are you able to do that much?”

  Curtis threw the clothes halfway across the room and grabbed Mythos by his salt-and-pepper hair. “Did I stutter, Pony? I thought I made myself clear. Get in there and wait.” Curtis didn’t even know why the name came out but it seemed to get Mythos’s attention. He shook him. “Do I have to drag you?”

  Colton’s nickname coming from a suddenly aggressive stranger was enough to shake Colton from his stupor. He’d been sort of floating, unable to connect with the words and actions of his own body. “You don’t get to call me that. That name is only for him.”

  “I don’t give a fuck. Do what I tell you. Or do you want to displease your god?”

  Mythos recovered from Colton’s outburst, shoving the other half of his psyche back into that cold, quiet place. “I’ll comply. But he sends me a sorry excuse for an emissary.”

  Curtis growled, though he wasn’t clear on what Mythos was talking about, but he was certain it was intended as an insult. “The feeling's mutual. Now march.”

  He needed to move fast. He recognized the signs of his drug craving getting out of hand - his hands starting to shake, his body starting to sweat. It was happening fast. If he didn’t know better, Curtis could easily think he was going into withdrawal. But that was ridiculous. It had only been a couple hours since his last dose of Leo’s wonder drug.

  “I stole a few other things from the front desk.” Curtis grabbed up a roll of duct tape from the pile of things he’d left on the floor. “I know what kind of ritual you crave.”

  “So, after some trash talking and limbs flailing, I taped his hands like this.” Curtis raised his arms over his head. “To the faucet. And that’s where he is now. Crazy fucker was laughing when I left.”

  He took a generous sip of something awful tasting from an offered plastic cup. He was sitting in the basement of a very seedy bar in a very questionable part of town. Having won over the people he knew instantly he had to win over, he’d been invited to share some of the good stuff.

  Years of living and moving in the party drug underworld, Curtis was an expert in talking the talk and walking the walk. You boasted a little, enough to make yourself interesting, then you let them boast more. You didn’t have listen so much as know when to shut up. Something he, of course, lost the potential to do the higher he got. Curtis was just getting started. There was so much to chose from as he ran his hand over a bowl of what appeared to be crystal meth. Not his usual drug, but the guys around him were swearing by how great it was. He sat back on the couch and lit some in a pipe. Watching it break down.

  “But the fight earlier, I almost lost. It was just such a shock to see Bori. After that many years, of all the people to take on. And I still fucking felt things.”

  One of the junkies seconded how much that sucked and offered to share some of his heroin, much more Curtis’s style. He offered up his arm to be prepared and tapped while he used the other hand to raise the pipe to his lips. This is what he needed, where he belonged. With the worthless. With the ones no one expected anything from. The ones no one could love. He set the pipe down and wiped away the thick eyeliner sliding down his face.

  “Well, fuck. I already played my part, you know. Or well, maybe it doesn’t even matter.” The meth worked fast and he wanted a few more tastes right away. Anything to get the words Colton had scalded into his brain out of it. They had become nearly a command to disappear. Did this count? Feeling the prick of the needle, he knew he was on the way to not caring.

  The blackout was a surprise. And the shakes. He wrapped the kimono - something he’d lifted from the plus size fashion store along the way - tightly around himself, hoping to stave off the shivering. He used to be able to handle his heroin just fine, thank you. One of the junkies was shaking him.

  “Huh? Oh yeah. I’m good.” He put his arm back out and tapped it in the universal gesture for needing another hit. “Just not fucked up enough.” He gathered up the things on the table, which was a much bigger mess than before he passed out. He needed to cook up some more to inject. “It’s cool. I know how to fix that.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  A few autographs, some stories from the old days, and just one “please god, just once” ear scratching later and their good Samaritan ride had dropped off Boris, Thomas, and Matt at a strip mall that had a car rental place on one end and a gas station at the other. In the middle was a bargain bin clothing store that got Matt dressed for civilization, a hat to hide Boris’s ears, and a long jacket for the tail. Thomas had thankfully been able to just swap his tattered, dirty clothes for something out of the duffel bag they’d salvaged from the wreckage of the SUV.

  Boris left the two of them with one of his questionable credit cards at the sandwich shop in the gas station. The larger men were starving like they had been in a healing temple all week. It was best for them to get something to eat now while Boris was figuring out where Curtis took Colton.

  His former partner had simple motivations. Get high, sleep it off, repeat. Boris had no idea what was in that vial he’d lifted from Curtis’s pocket. While it had done nothing for Boris, it was obviously keeping Curtis high. Without it, he would most likely seek out a fix. Hopefully, he had gone the same direction they had, towards Chicago.

  Making a few calls, Boris had a couple of addresses in the next town where there were some party houses. Where they had stopped was little more than a grouping of conveniences by the highway exit. The nearest thing that qualified as a town was a ten minute drive up the back road, half that on the highway.

  Now all they needed was a ride and they’d be good to go. It was late and the rental place was closed. But Boris hadn’t been arrested all those times for nothing. He’d learned a few things along the way. Boris strolled over to the lot, checking out the vehicles, picking out the one he liked.

  “Time to go,” Boris, still stuck as Cat Fight, appeared at Thomas’s elbow, talking low to the two men who were still eating what was probably their fifth round of sandwiches. “Bag it up, we have about fifteen minutes to get as far from here as possible.”

  Matt looked at him with annoyance. “What the hell did you do now, fur-ball?” He began to throw the half eaten sandwiches into a bag even as he glared at Boris.

  “I’ll explain on the way,” Boris assured him. “Plus, I think I have a lead on where to find Curtis and Colton.”

  “See now, if you had led with that, pussycat, you wouldn’t have pissed off Matt.” Thomas patted Boris on the back. “Got you three meatball subs. Thought you might need the protein. In case you are too busy tonight after we’ve rescued Colton to get proper nutrition.”

  Boris cut his eyes at Thomas. “I hope you got a few extra for you, too.”

  “Be gross later,” Matt cut in. “Get Colton now.”

  “I rest my case.” Thomas couldn’t help but laugh. “And trust me, I’m good. But this guy kicked our asses so maybe we should have a plan?”

  Boris
led them to a large black SUV. He jumped into the driver’s seat, impatiently waiting for them to throw the duffel bags into the back before climbing in too. “He’s terrifying when he’s sober,” Boris admitted. “But I know him. He’s a fucking junkie. And I took his fix. His first move is going to be getting a new one.”

  “So he’ll be leaving Colton somewhere?” Thomas checked to make sure they had everything they’d rescued of Colton’s and everything new they bought. “That was the guy you were telling me about. Are you alright seeing him again?”

  “It’s been years, and we weren’t close,” Boris replied. “But I do know how his powers work and how he works. We need to deal with him without using our powers. He can’t fight hand to hand. Get him high enough and he can’t use his powers at all.”

  “That’s fine. I can punch his face in,” Matt grumbled.

  “Considering what he did, I feel the same.” Thomas sighed. “But you can have first dibs, partner. That ice attack he sent at Colton was no joke.”

  Boris held his tongue. He was the only one who knew just how cruel an attack like that was against someone with Colton’s history. He doubted Curtis even knew what he did to Colton with that attack. “He’s probably going to be good and fucked up when we find him. We need to find out where Colton is, because I sincerely doubt he’ll have him along for his drug run. Then, you can do what you want to him. We get Colton, and we’re halfway to Chicago by morning.”

  “It’s just weird. I mean, we should at least talk about what’s happening with our powers.” Thomas grabbed onto the door handle as Boris drove like they were in a video game. “Colton, especially. Why did he start believing he was freezing to death? That’s why he couldn’t shake it off. Does getting hit by Dark Mirror make your powers go haywire? That would explain my legs, and you not turning back right away and Matt’s near spontaneous human combustion.”