by Edward Crae
“”Woohoo!” Drew shouted. “Did you see that shit, man!?”
“I saw that shit, man,” Dan replied, his breath finally slowing. “Help me up. My shoulder’s fucked up.”
Drew bent down to lift Dan’s upper body, sitting him up gently. Dan put his arm around Drew’s shoulder, and the two of them stood, looking at the carnage around them.
“What a fucking mess,” Dan said. “We need to clean this up.”
“Tomorrow,” Drew said. “Let’s get you back in the house. It’s time to get shitfaced.”
Dan chuckled. “Yeah,” he said. “Good idea. I could use a drink. But, let’s put my shoulder back where it goes, first.”
Chapter Twelve
Dan grimaced in pain, lying on the couch as Drew poured him a small glass of whiskey. He had dug out the pills that Jerry had given him the other day, and popped one of the hydroxones. Even after only ten minutes, the pill was beginning to kick in, and he could feel the pleasant narcotic tingling on his skin. It felt good—really good—but in the back of his mind, he was glad that Jerry had only given him two.
They were that good.
Although the physical pain was fading, the turmoil and confusion wreaked havoc on Dan’s mind. What had happened tonight was a complete brainfuck; not something he would soon forget. Just a few days ago, he had awakened to a relatively normal day. Then, on a quick trip to get some more booze, the world had turned itself upside down.
Or maybe it had righted itself. Who knows?
“You feel better?” Drew asked him, lighting some candles, and sitting down in the armchair next to him.
Dan nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ll be alright. That was just the most intense shit I’ve ever seen.”
Drew scoffed. “Uh huh,” he said, sarcastically. “That’s an understatement.”
Drew hit the play button on the portable stereo, putting on some soothing Gojira that doled out its signature eco-death rhythm. Dan smiled, closing his eyes and letting the painkillers take over.
“I feel like Conan the Barbarian,” Drew said.
Dan opened his eyes, picturing Drew standing triumphantly over the monster’s corpse. “You looked like Conan the Barbarian,” he said. “Only, you know, a little shorter and goofier.”
Drew snickered. “Fuck you, man,”
Dan smiled in his haze, watching his friend grin and stare off into space while his head bobbed gently with the music. He had only known Drew for a short time, no more than a year, but the events of the last two days had given Dan a new appreciation for their friendship. They made a good team. Granted, they were both losers, but hey… who cared at this point?
“Drew,” Dan said.
“Yeah, buddy?”
“I’m glad you called, man.”
Drew pursed his lips, turning to him and nodding his head slowly. He didn’t say anything, but Dan knew that Drew was glad, too. Thanks to a chance phone call, they had made a great connection. They had gone through a lot in the last few days, and this was just the beginning. If their exploits were any indication, it would be a good match up.
Together, they could survive.
To the droning sound of his favorite band, Dan drifted off to dreamland, his narcotic magic carpet singing him lullabies of death and destruction.
If only his dreams could be so pleasant.
About the Author
Edward is a recovering alcoholic and drug addict, whose dreams had always steered him toward storytelling. Having studied biology and astronomy in his spare time, Edward developed a story that eventually combined the two sciences with his love of horror and sci-fi. Wormwood Dawn is the result of this mishmash of disciplines.
Table of Contents
Copyright © 2015 Edward Crae
Foreword
“The third angel sounded, and a great star fell from heaven, burning like a torch, and it fell on a t...
Chapter OneDelirium Tremens.
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
About the Author