Second Wind

Chapter 1: Last Straw

"I will call the resource officer. I will take that threat you made to me to the authorities. Unless you go home!" he told me again, pointing towards the door. I wasn't sure if he was joking or not. My gut told me to flip him off and stay put, but my mind was telling me that it wasn't a good idea.

I went with my mind, which was usually smarter. I whipped around and stormed out, fuming. I exited the school. My car was parked in the student parking lot, at the very back row where nobody would go. I hopped into the black '67 Chevy Impala, slamming the door harder than really necessary. Despite my sour mood, the car's smoothly running engine brought a smile to my face...

It was the only person who didn't look at me like I was about to punch them. He was my best friend, in my mind. Don't call me crazy, I know the car's an inanimate object. Sometimes it just takes my mind off of my shitty life, okay?

I pulled out of the school, glad that there was barely any traffic on the way to my apartment thirty minutes away. One unexciting drive later, I was pulling into the apartment building's parking lot.

I took the key out of the ignition and twirled it around my finger as I walked towards my place. It was on the top floor, up four flights of stairs. With practiced ease, I bounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time. When I arrived at my door, I opened it up with some difficulty; my door had been messed up when I threw a person against it. Because of this, the hinges had been bent to the point where I had to push against it if I wanted it to open.

I grunted, pushing my shoulder against the door. I finally gave way, and I stumbled into my home. I slammed it back into place before locking it again.

I slumped down on my couch, still mad at Mr. Faust. I read over the OSS form he gave me. "Three days," I muttered. "Three days stuck in this lame ass apartment. All because of that dick wad."

I simmered in my own angry juices for a little while before I finally decided that I'd get payback. With a devious smirk plastered on my face the entire time, I rummaged about in my small closet. A medium sized cardboard box in my hands, I felt a spike of excitement rise through my stomach.

I reached into the box and pulled out a can of neon yellow spray paint. I turned it around, admiring the potential beauty it contained within it.

With cunning thoughts running through my head, I headed down to my car.

And once in my car, I drove in silence towards Mr. Faust's house.

***

I stood at the front of Mr. Faust's house, the can of spray paint in my left hand. I was scanning the dark grey painted house, thinking of what I could paint onto it.

A lovely idea came to mind. It was so unbelievably clever I chuckled to myself.

I shook the can up, drawing to mind the sign of the most notorious gang in this part of town... the Triangle gang. Their symbol was simple and immediately distinguishable; a triangle with an X crossed through it. The diamond where the X met the triangle was shaded in.

I spray painted the symbol as big as I could on the front of his house. I looked over my shoulder to be sure nobody was watching, and finished it off with a big ole "FUCK YOU" underneath it...

This was great. Mr. Faust lived in a neighbourhood where the gangs frequently travelled. If they were to see this, he would be in a whole world of trouble... My work there was done.

I had parked my car outside the neighbourhood, in the parking lot of a gas station, to avoid suspicion. I walked on the sidewalk, my hands shoved into the pocket of my hoodie. Nobody was on the streets at this time of day. At least, that's what I thought.

A person with dark clothes came up to my right. The hood to their hoodie was pulled up so that I couldn't see their face. The hoodie had what looked like a school name printed on it in white, corroded font: "Deadlock". I readied myself to duck the punch that was sure to come...

But it didn't come.

Instead, the person reached into their pocket and produced a business card. It was glossy and black with white writing on it. I took it with some hesitation.

"Come to the address. Pack clothes and bring all necessities," the person rumbled. With that, he turned the other way and was gone.

That was a more than a little strange...

I frowned, glancing down to read the card as I continued walking. It read simply: "Deadlock. 667 Champion Boulevard. Come or be made."

I was super curious. Sure, it could be a ploy to lure me to a creepy guy that was planning to rape me, but let's be honest here. I could take just about anything, and win any fight. I was going to check that place out. It was better than festering in my apartment for three days with nothing to do.

***

I had a big black Nike backpack riding passenger as I drove over to the address I was given. In the backpack were most of my clothes, plus a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a hair brush.

It was a two hour drive to the address down a two lane dirt road that cut that cut through a thick forest. It was evening by the time I neared my destination. Streetlights were placed at irregular intervals along the road, casting eerie orange light. Oft times I was driving in the stretches of shadows between the pools of unnatural orange.

When I finally pulled into the place the business card directed me to, I was a little more than surprised at what I saw...

I was pulling into the parking lot of what looked like another high school.