Queeroes

by Steven Bereznai

  “I have to find Troy,” Gibbie seethed, still clutching the journal.

  Liza nodded. “I can see why you’d be pissed at him.” She nodded towards the diary. “I mean, Chad’s a slut, but your own brother?”

  Gibbie’s face was turning deep red. She stared at the empty bottle of juice and smiled. There was a bit of residue from the amphetamines she’d dissolved in it. Hopefully he had a strong heart. He got up, ready to storm off.

  “Wait!” Liza cried.

  Her cellphone beeped and she quickly read a text message.

  Looking back at Gibbie, she said, “Try the weight room.”

  Mandy and Liza walked briskly through the school’s near-deserted halls. Students had been told to go directly to the auditorium. Liza struggled to keep up with Mandy’s clip-clapping high-heeled tread.

  In a pitch that only animals could hear, Liza began to sing. A loud banging suddenly rose up from the girls’ change room.

  “Chad?” Mandy called, hurrying towards it. Behind her Liza sang harder. Outside, dogs yelped in pain. The banging grew more frenzied.

  Mandy pushed open the door and clattered her way towards a metal supply cabinet next to a poster of the human anatomy. The cabinet rattled wildly, as if trying to contain a rabid elephant. The doors bulged with bumps from being punched from the inside.

  Mandy reached for the release handle…

  Do it, Liza gloated.

  …and the cheerleader spun around and grabbed Liza by the collar. Mandy was surprisingly strong, and in a new twist on the peer cheer, she rammed Liza against a row of lockers.

  “I know when I’m being played,” Mandy seethed.

  This was not part of the plan. Liza had lulled Chad to sleep, locked him in the cabinet this morning until Mandy came to meet him, and then Liza woke him with her voice, using it to drive him into a frenzy in a frequency beyond Mandy’s hearing. Liza didn’t want Mandy crazed. She wanted the head cheerleader to be aware that her best friend was ripping her apart. The end, or so Liza had hoped.

  No matter. On to Plan B. Liza began to sing a soothing lullaby.

  “Hush, little baby, don’t say a word…”

  Mandy head butted her with her force field. There was a loud crack, Liza screamed in pain, and rivulets of dark blood ran down from her nose.

  “Did you really think I didn’t know about Chad macking with my ex-boyfriend?” Mandy demanded. “It was you who sent that video to Jesse.”

  Any answer was cut off by the sound of ripping metal. Chad’s clawed fist broke through the cabinet door, scratching wildly at the empty air. Mandy didn’t flinch. She turned on Liza.

  “You try to use your voice on me again and I’ll crack your skull, understand?”

  Liza nodded.

  “Now what have you done to Chad?”

  Liza opened her mouth to answer, but no sound that Mandy could hear came out. Dogs outside yelped in pain. Chad’s growl grew to a full-on howl and the rattle of metal was like thunder. Mandy drew her head back, ready to smash her force field into Liza’s forehead, but the doors of the utility closet burst open and Chad crashed out, toppling into Mandy and knocking her away from Liza.

  They went down in a spree of flailing limbs and tearing claws. Mandy caught flashes of silver from the skimpy Speedo Devon had dressed the blond in. Otherwise Chad was unclothed.

  He slashed and bit at her. His fangs broke and his claws cracked on her force field. Blood frothed from his gums. His skin glistened with baby oil.

  “Stop it!” Mandy shouted. “You’re hurting yourself.”

  Her force field crackled around her.

  He just bit all the harder, the pain sending him into a greater frenzy.

  “Leave him alone!” Mandy yelled at Liza. “You’re killing him.”

  “No,” Liza smiled grimly, pulling out a video camera. “You’re killing him. This is so Saw. Do you keep your force field up to protect yourself while your friend breaks himself against it, or do you lower it, and let your friend rip you apart? Tough call. Ready for your close-up?”

  The red light on the camera blinked as Liza released another high-pitched wail and Chad’s claws drew back, aiming for Mandy’s throat.

  Troy watched veins snake across his arms as he pumped out a set of curls in the school’s weight room. He was shirtless, dressed only in short shorts, socks, and sneakers. Behind Troy, his suit was hanging from a hook on the wall. He’d jogged here with it over one shoulder, protected by a garbage bag.

  People would start arriving for the assembly soon, Troy would make a speech, and yet all the same, here he was, letting off some steam—or trying to raise it.

  Truth was, Troy felt no steam to let off. He was back to where he was before he’d drunk that bottle of Etienne water. Emotions, including his own, were like foreign invaders for his immune system to subdue. At least the weights gave him muscular pain.

  He changed into his suit, buttoning up his shirt, not even bothering to shower. The door banged open, and in stomped Gibbie.

  “We need to talk,” he said.

  “Walk with me,” Troy replied, doing up his tie and heading towards the door.

  Gibbie grabbed him by the arm.

  “Are you okay?” Troy asked. “Your pupils are really dilated.”

  “We need to talk now,” Gibbie shouted, and with a jerk of the arm he sent Troy flying across the room.

  Chapter 28

  Mandy screamed, jerking and twisting her body in a desperate attempt to dislodge Chad. Liza gazed at her watch.

  “Good work, Mandy, you’ve held your shield up for five minutes now. That’s 30 seconds longer than your record. Must be the desperation. Still, adrenalin can only take you so far.”

  With a final jolt that sent Chad hopping back in surprise, Mandy’s shield pulsed briefly, and then fizzled into nothing.

  “What do you know,” Liza tittered.

  Chad growled, muscular arms clenched on either side of him, sweat staining his little silver Speedo. He pounced.

  Mandy vanished from sight. He landed on concrete. There was a scratch of movement and he reared about, leaping at apparent nothingness.

  Mandy flashed into visibility and fell backwards under his weight. He tumbled over her, rolling in a somersault that landed him squarely on his feet a few paces from his best friend, who he was attempting to kill. Mandy tried to get up; the heel of her shoe snapped and she fell, banging her elbow hard on the concrete floor. Chad hissed and pounced again. Mandy knew it was futile to try scrambling out of the way. Even if she stood up quickly enough, he’d simply tear into her calves a second later.

  There was no point in disappearing. He could smell and hear her. And her shield was tapped out. It was time to perform. She drew on all her years of competing at cheerleader championships. Her insides grew calm and steady. She pressed her shoulder blades, palms, and the bottom of her ass into the floor. She felt anchored.

  Lay-down position.

  Chad came barreling towards her.

  She kicked off her shoes. She didn’t want to puncture him with her heels.

  He flew through the air, about to land right on top of her. His claws extended towards her throat. Her legs reared up, knees bent. His stomach rammed into the bottoms of her feet. She grunted as his mass bore into her.

  Leg tuck, she chanted to herself, reducing this life-and-death situation to the most banal of cheerleading moves.

  In one fluid movement she clenched and jerked her legs back and over her head, taking Chad’s momentum and sending him flying—directly at Liza.

  “Holy fu—,” Liza cursed.

  She took a deep breath, but before she could let out a vibratory blast, he rammed into her, the claws on his toes digging deep into her sides. She screamed now, in unfocused pain, and the entire room shook.

  She turned her voice on Chad, blasting him off her in a wave of sound. He tore strips out of her as he was whipped into a set of lockers. He lay there panting and dazed.

  “Get ready for y
our ears to bleed,” Liza growled, her brow dripping with sweat.

  “I don’t think so,” Mandy replied.

  Liza turned with a start and Mandy sucker-punched her across

  the jaw. Liza staggered backward and Mandy grimaced at the pain in her wrist, shaking her hand in the air.

  “You are so dead,” Liza cursed. She inhaled and let go a blaring scream. Mandy snapped into invisibility and got out of the way barely in time. The wall where she’d stood exploded into the neighboring room.

  Mandy tried to hold her invisibility, but she banged into a fallen bench. She warbled back into view. Liza took another deep breath. Mandy’s shield sparked and then fizzled into nothing. She was out of juice.

  “I thought we were friends,” Mandy panted.

  “I could never be friends with the likes of you,” Liza said with disgust.

  Mandy hugged herself for protection, squeezing her eyes shut, preparing for her own demise.

  “That’s right, cow,” Liza smiled. “This is for a lifetime of humiliation.”

  There was a sharp intake of breath.

  Mandy flinched, waiting for the end.

  Seconds passed. Then seconds more.

  Mandy opened her eyes.

  Chad stood behind Liza. One of his fingers was pressed deep into the side of the girl’s throat. He panted heavily and made a quick jerky motion with the embedded digit. Liza gasped. Chad yanked his finger out of her, leaving a bloody hole in her neck.

  Liza dropped to her knees, gripping the wound.

  Rivulets of red seeped through her fingers.

  “What is the matter with you?” Troy demanded of his little brother, struggling to get back on his feet.

  Gibbie grabbed the jock by the throat and pressed him against the wall.

  “You made out with him,” Gibbie said, his grip tightening.

  “Yes,” Troy said, squirming in an attempt to wriggle free. “I kissed Jesse. I should’ve told you I’m gay. I just couldn’t...”

  Gibbie flung him aside.

  “Chad!” the younger boy yelled. “You made out with Chad!”

  His rage pounded over Troy like fists.

  Beat it down, Troy told himself, shut it in the room.

  He forced the feelings behind a door in his mind, which began to bulge with the strain. Gibbie picked up an eighty-pound barbell in one hand, holding it like a javelin.

  “I can explain,” Troy panted.

  The barbell crashed into the wall next to Troy’s head.

  “You can explain?” Gibbie demanded. “You can explain why you stuck your tongue down the throat of a guy you barely noticed before? A guy you knew I worshipped? The guy I’ve wanted to be with since before I got pubic hair?”

  “You have pubic hair?” Troy asked, genuinely surprised.

  A second barbell smashed near his head.

  Gibbie looked about for more things to throw. His eyes alighted upon stacks of weighted plates.

  “This isn’t you,” Troy panted. “I know you, Gibbie. No matter how mad you got, you’d never try to kill me.”

  Gibbie flung a forty-five-pound plate like a discus. Troy dove out of the way and it smashed into the wall, sticking there and vibrating.

  Gibbie’s eyes were completely bloodshot at this point.

  “You’re drugged,” Troy said.

  Gibbie gripped the weightlifting machine in the middle of the room—a squarish affair of rusting metal with stations around it for squats, bench presses, shoulder raises, and bicep curls, all attached to stacks of weights by pulleys and cables. Gibbie pushed the entire machine towards his brother. It was too big to get around, bearing down on the jock like a Mack truck.

  “Oh shiii—”

  It slammed into him, and pushed him towards the wall, ready to crush him. Troy squirmed and managed to wedge himself between the equipment’s vertical bars just in time to avoid being caught between them and the cinder-block wall. They smashed together, and there was a whining of metal as the machine began to crumple under Gibbie’s strength.

  Troy found himself unhurt, but barred in by what was left of the machine.

  Gibbie reached for his brother, and grunted in frustration at not being able to grab him. Troy was caged in, but Gibbie was caged out.

  Gibbie stalked to the opposite side of the machine and began pressing against it, squashing it slowly as if it were in a trash compactor. The bars began bending in towards Troy.

  “Listen to me!” Troy yelled, trying to reach out with feelings of calm and reason. They slithered off Gibbie like skin from a molting snake.

  “You’re amped on speed or something,” Troy said.

  The machine crunched against his leg.

  “You’re hurting me!” he screamed.

  There was another crunch and his arm was pinned.

  A piece of jagged metal pressed against his chest, on target for his heart.

  Gibbie took a moment to catch his breath.

  “So why’d you do it, Troy? I want to hear you say it.”

  “Gibbie, I never meant to…”

  Gibbie leaned into the machine.

  “You did it to screw me over! I was finally stronger than you, so you took the one thing I really wanted.”

  The metal shaft ripped Troy’s shirt and broke his skin. Warm blood trickled down his chest.

  “I love him!” Troy shouted.

  The machine stopped.

  The silence after the bedlam was deafening.

  “You what?” Gibbie demanded.

  “I love him,” Troy repeated.

  To his own wonder, he meant it, and saying it opened the door—not in his head, but in his heart, and it felt warm.

  I’m going to die. My brother’s going to kill me.

  Yet still he felt a moment of peace.

  “What do you love about him?” Gibbie demanded suspiciously.

  His body, Troy thought. But it was more than that.

  There were momentary flashes of Chad, cheerleading, triple-snapping during lunch hour, being sent to the principal’s office for showing up in a Legally Blonde T-shirt cut off at the midriff.

  “He’s not afraid to be himself,” Troy said.

  There was another pause.

  “Gibbie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I love you too.”

  Saying the words once again pulled up memories, of pouting at the hospital while his mom showed him his new baby brother, and then years later, the two of them wearing matching head-to-ankle snowsuits while tobogganing together, and, more recently, jumping off the docks at their grandparents’ cottage, seeing who could make the biggest splash. The waves of attachment flowed from Troy to Gibbie, stronger and deeper than any drug.

  “Troy?”

  “Yeah, Gibbie?”

  “I love you too.”

  There was a squeal of metal on concrete as Gibbie pulled the weight machine back. Troy gasped as the pressure on his leg and

  arm fell away and blood flowed back into them.

  Gibbie walked around, looking a little bashful.

  “So do you really love him?”

  “I do.”

  Gibbie’s shoulders slumped.

  “I really messed up, huh?” Troy asked.

  He wrapped his arm around his little brother.

  “Chad was never going to go for me anyway,” Gibbie sighed.

  Troy felt the slap of defeat wash off his brother. Gibbie wiped at his eyes.

  “I just get tired of being a loser, you know?”

  “You’re not a loser,” Troy said. “You’re tough. To take what you take, every day, to find joy in your world of make-believe—that takes a lot of strength.”

  “Things were a lot clearer when I was just pretending to have power,” Gibbie replied.

  “No rolling the dice in the real world, huh? Come on,” Troy said, hugging Gibbie. “Let’s get to the assembly.”

  “You’re not mad at me?” Gibbie pressed.

  Troy looked down at his torn shirt
and rumpled suit.

  “I’ll get over it. You’re not mad at me?”

  “Really pissed,” Gibbie conceded. “But I guess I might as well get used to the fact that you’re the kind of guy who gets everything, and I’m not.”

  “My life’s not that simple,” Troy said. “Jesse and I…we…we were more than friends, and now…”

  Troy waited for the tears, but still they wouldn’t come.

  Gibbie wrapped his arms around his older brother and hugged him tight.

  “Come on,” Gibbie said, “you’ve got a speech to make.”

  They got up and made it as far as the door, when Troy stopped.

  “How did you know I made out with Chad?”

  Gibbie pulled out the Barbie journal, open to the incriminating page.

  Troy took it.

  “Where did you get this?”

  Before Gibbie could answer, the wall behind them began to vibrate, and then blew in, spraying concrete blocks everywhere.

  Chapter 29

  Chad’s shoulders heaved up and down, his rib cage expanding and contracting with ragged breaths. He stared down at Liza, lying on the floor. Blood formed in a pool about her. With a gentle sigh his claws retracted and with a shake of his head his pointed ears became normal.

  “Chad?” Mandy asked uncertainly.

  He opened his eyes. They were a piercing blue. He gazed at a poster of the human anatomy taped to a whiteboard, then over to the cabinet doors he’d shredded. Beyond that was the hole Liza had blown through the wall. Shattered cement blocks littered the floor.

  “I’m okay,” he said. “She got me real revved up, but I’m okay.”

  Mandy stood next to him and curled her fingers into the crook of his shapely arm. She looked down at Liza. The large girl made a gurgling sound.

  “She’s not dead,” Mandy said with wonder.

  “No,” Chad said, “she’s not. I avoided the arteries.”

  Liza’s eyes fluttered open. Chad went over to the cabinet he’d been locked in and yanked out the first aid kit. He pulled free a roll of gauze, and began wrapping it around Liza’s neck. She looked up at him in wonder.

  “I suppose you’re wondering why I’m helping you after you tried to kill us.”

  She gazed at him mutely. Chad extended one of his nails and Liza flinched. He used it to cut the gauze and then he taped it in place. There was already a circle of blood coming through.