Brontide

Sun blinded his eyes as Chris rolled over slightly, wincing at the pain he felt in his side when he did. His vision was still blurry, but he could make out two figures in front of him. He recognized the red-headed blob immediately as Rae, but the smaller figure next to her was a mystery. It was a man… no, a boy. He was someplace in high school, no older, and her was sitting cross legged next to Rae with a guitar in his hands. As Chris's vision focused, he saw that the boy had blonde hair in tight curls, and overly-excited blue eyes. Though he was blonde and blue eyed, his skin was tanned and darker, like a bi-racial kid. Light freckles ran across his nose, and he was dressed like thrift shop personified. Rae was laughing, and her short hair was pulled out of her face with a black bandana. She was wearing a simple grey t-shirt with a flannel shirt tied around her waist. She was wearing her black work shorts that Chris complained about, and was barefoot.

He struggled to sit up, catching Rae's attention. She and the boy helped him get up, letting him sit. He looked around, realizing he was in a van. A weird van, like the kind in the 70s. A Volkswagen. It had beaded curtains and everything. They were parked at some truck stop, and it was night out. Rae smiled, sitting next to him and kissing him on the cheek. Chris looked from her to the boy, who wrinkled his nose.

"Don't look at me, I'm not kissing you," he shrugged.

"What?" Chris muttered, rubbing his head.

"How do you feel?" Rae asked him softly.

"Like I've been hit by ten trains," he groaned, holding his side.

"More like one bullet. Which, by the way, is the coolest thing ever," the boy grew excited. "You're like Mason from Call of Duty! My kill count on that game is like, ten million! Except not really. What did a real bullet feel like? Once I went paint balling for a cousin's birthday and I got hit in the gut like you did. And then I went because it really freaking hurts. You didn't even cry or nothing, you motherfucking tank!"

Chris blinked, staring at the boy. He didn't know what to say to the guy he'd never seen in his life.

"Who are you?" he muttered.

"Oh!" the boy turned red. "Forgot you don't know me yet. Call me Kid. That's not my name, but I don't tell people my name no more. I'm sixteen."

Chris frowned, looking at Kid. He had awful grammar, but at that point Chris didn't even care.

"I saw you and Rae on the side of the street. She was crying an all and you were just lying there like a dead body. So pulled over to see what was going, and I noticed that you were still breathing so I got some of my handy-dandy first aid stuff and fixed you up. My dad showed me how to do it and all the last time we went camping, because my buddy Kyle fell out of a tree because he thought the rope swing that had been there since the last friggin millennia was stable. Turns out he was wrong, but at least I learned some stuff and saved your life. You're welcome!"

"Believe it or not, it's true," Rae said softly. "He's only sixteen, but he patched you up."

"I kind of forgot to clean the needle, though," Kid awkwardly scratched his head. "So if you get sick or something try not to puke in here."

"Where are we?" Chris asked.

"Pennsylvania, I think," Rae looked over her shoulder. "We need to leave New York, so we're going to California."

"California?"

"Yeah, and we're taking Kid home on the way. Since he fixed you, the least we can do is take him back to his family," Rae explained.

"Why are you in Pennsylvania then?" Chris asked Kid. "Picking strangers up off the street so late at night? Don't you know how dangerous that is?"

"I figured I had nothing to lose," Kid frowned. "See, I met this girl on the internet. World of Warcraft, actually. Hottest blood elf ever. We started talking, and she wants to meet up outside of the internet. I say okay, because I just got my license and I can drive now. Turns out this girl is actually a forty year old man who threw me into the van you're sitting in right now. He drove me all the way to New York. He had some nasty shit planned, but the guy is a moron. I jacked his van and got the hell outta there. It's been a week, I'm totally lost, and there you guys are. Rae's a damn angel, really. She's helping me get home."

"Right," Chris said quietly, feeling sympathy for the kid. "Kid, do you mind if Rae and I talk alone for a couple minutes?"

"Is it because I'm black?" Kid snapped.

"What? Of course not," Chris furrowed his brow. "If you give us a minute, I'll buy you a beer."

"Deal," Kid grinned. "I'm only half black, anyway. My mom's from Nigeria. Aint that the shit?"

Kid hopped out of the van, slinging his guitar over his back and nearly tripping over his own flip flops. He walked with a slight bounce in his step, and walked right in-between two massive truck drivers that were about to pounce on each other and fight. The truck drivers held back, looking at Kid in confusion.

"He's so adorable," Rae giggled, watching Kid go. "Terrible what happened to him, though. Don't bring it up, okay? He's a happy kid most of the time, but he gets these sudden sparks of depression, out of nowhere."

"He's got a lot to say, that's for sure," Chris muttered. "What happened, exactly?"

"Everything he told you," Rae sighed. "George got you. I thought you were dead, and I'd never been more scared in my life. He's dead now, I did it. It was self-defense, I swear. George is dead, and Jeremy is 'dead'. I honestly don't know where he is, but he's alive. He left me enough signs to know that. We're on the run, now. There's no going back. That organization will have both our heads for this."

"This is a nightmare," Chris said, apologetically looking at Rae.

"It's okay, we'll make it," Rae smiled, leaning over to give him a peck on the lips. "I'm in too deep to get out now."

Chris smiled, scratching his neck and lifting up his shirt to reveal a surprisingly good stitching job. The wound still hurt, but he was alive. As much as he hated to admit it, he owed Kid big time.

"I'm the one that changed your clothes, by the way. Underwear included," Rae winked. "It was pretty hot."

Chris smirked, leaning in to give her another kiss when Kid slammed into the driver's seat and turned on the engine. He looked over his shoulder with a panicked expression as ten angry truck drivers ran after the car, yelling and cursing.

"No time to explain," Kid announced, "Never knock over a truck driver's beer!"

He slammed the gas, turning out of the truck stop as fast as he could. Rae held the seat tightly, but laughed out loud. And though she was having a lot more fun than Chris was at the moment, both were feeling the same thing. Both knew that there was a whole new adventure ahead of them.