Injected ((RLLY FUCKIN OLD))

Chapter Seventeen (Jacob)

We step into the car.  I take one last look at my mother's shabby house before we drive away.  It takes a couple of seconds to realize that I really don't miss her at all.  That's what I'm concerned about.  One of my parents left me, and the other, then after that I left her.  It didn't make me any less happy.  Surely, stressed out.  But the reason behind that was because I didn't want to get punished again.  Not like how I did this one time that just seemed so horrible to me.

I quickly drain my thoughts away.  Today I want to think positive.  There's still joy in a fairly depressing life, right?

"What's for breakfast?" I turn to Ky.

"Starbucks," she answers without hesitation.

"Lunch?"

"Whoah, whoah, whoah, don't think that far ahead, boy."

"Dinner?" I reply, intensely.

"Nope... Just... Stop right there..." She holds out her palm in front of her face.

"Okay, Starbucks we'll find," I say, searching around.  It really doesn't take a lot of effort to find one.  They're literally everywhere.

Once we find one, we pull into the parking lot.

"We can just go through the drive through," Ky suggests.

"I'd prefer the indoors."

"We're in our pajamas."

"So?" After I say this, I open the car door.  She follows.

A few people pass us strange looks as we walk inside.  I roll my eyes at them, making most of it stop.

"What do you want?" I ask, not even looking at the menu.

"Just a bagel, a panini, a chocolate latte, and a cake pop," she answers. I raise my eyebrow.

"A panini and a chocolate latte?" Pleads.

"Fine," I sigh, rolling my eyes.

"Should I pay for my own food?" She offers. I shake my head.

Taking out a twenty dollar bill from my front pocket, I say, "I've got you covered, don't worry about it."

Ky sends me a sincere nod.

Once it's our turn, we fill out the order then seat ourselves to a nearby table.

"So what's our plan?" Ky asks me, once we're settled.

"We... Drive to Virginia..." I answer, knowingly in a blunt tone. She shakes her head. I give her a second response, "there's a place in Virginia that studies the Injected and know how to keep you safe. We have to drive across the country because there are a lot of important things inside my truck."

"Boy crap," she mutters. I feel like this has become our inside joke.

"Yes..."

"So what will I be doing there?" She asks.  Good question.

I think about Charlee.  She stuck with me the whole time.  Trying the examine the Injected from up close.  Look at where that led her.  Too close.

"We'll see what they want to do with you," I say. When she backs away, I realize how threatening that just sounded.  "Hey, do you want to see what the Injected are after you for?  They might test you on a few things to determine," I reply to myself, in a way less creepy.

"Sure... I'm kind of wondering what they would want from a girl like me.  It'd be cool to figure it out."

Honestly, I'm wondering the same thing.  Obviously I don't say this aloud.  She's just so... Basic.  The Injected must have really studied her in the past to figure it out.  Hopefully, the Base can too.  "Yeah, same."

After a few seconds and a sigh, Ky asks me, "what did the Injected want you for?

I pause in hesitation. What did they want from me?

It's been several years since the subject even occurred into my head, to be honest. I try to spend most of my time focusing on the current victims. Not myself.

"I don't remember," I end up answering to her.

"Oh."

Suddenly, the cashier calls the name 'Douglas.'

That's our order.

I've always had trust issues with strangers. I won't give them my real name unless required. Someday this may save one of our lives.

Life saver. Me? That's impossible.

The point has been clear that I am a no-good, lousy, irresponsible, stupid, ignorant, disrespectful, untrustworthy murderer at The Base.

I've been called all of these names at least five times by different people.

Except for murderer.

That one has been called one too many times, and by one person.

I find it the most effective. My heart hurts every time she labels me as this.

It's said by Charlee's sister, Nina.

She's used it against me ever since she became one of them. I would listen to her as she would spit out long sentences like venom. It didn't improve anything. Everything remained exactly the same. No matter how many times I would convince myself about luck and self discipline. No matter how many times I would get close to her as an Injected. No matter how many times I would even try to come up with a cute myself.

I was in a state when I was learning how reality works better than what is mentally going on inside of me.  Probably one of my lowest experiences.

"Want to eat it here or should we leave right now?"  I ask Ky.

"Would it really be that bad if we had it here?"  She asks me, "I'd like to wake myself up a little before driving away."  After that, she takes a sip of her caffeine-filled drink.

"Fine.  Ten more minutes to wake yourself up, okay."

She nods lightly.

When I don't say anything in response, she speaks, "so... Like, not to make this weird or anything... But I feel like we haven't really spoken well enough and it feels really awkward travelling around with a stranger."

I place my hands over my heart, pretending to be offended, "stranger?"

She does have a point.  I've been the least social with Ky compared to the other people who I talked to.  I'm assuming it's because of Charlee and everything but maybe for once I should let go.  The past can't be changed.

She smiles, "yes, I'd like to get to know you a little more, you fifty-year-old rapist."

"How would you know?  I thought that I was a stranger to you," I respond.

"Seriously though," she pauses, "how old are you?"