Save Yourself, I'll Hold Them Back

Ray’s van is familiarity. It’s where even in the worst times, or when they’ve all been apart for a long time, they can feel like a family again. A totally-adopted, half-of-us-are-dating-each-other, love-hate, rivalry, fight-to-the-death-for-you family. Only the Ways and the Bryars are actually related to each other, but Frank and Ray are so close to them that they practically count.

They always sit the same way – Ray or Bob drive, usually Ray, occasionally holding hands over the shift stick. They’re like the parents of the group, even if they aren’t quite the oldest.

In the middle is usually Frank and Mikey, because Mikey’s tall and requires as much leg room as he can get and Frank likes to stretch out and cuddle and is, in general, a needy fucker, but in a cute way.

Before, Gerard sat with them too, but since Bob started bringing his kid sister Anette around, he’s sat in the back with her. It’s cramped and close (which is why sometimes Frank’s forced back there), but that was okay with Gerard because that means he’s close and cramped with her. She’s fresh out of college and pretty much the same age as Frank and Mikey. And Bob is just as protective over her as Gerard is over Mikey. Gerard knows first-hand—he’s seen Bob punch a drunk guy in the face who was harassing Anette. Bob cracked the guy’s nose and given him a deep black eye.

But she’s pretty and she smiled at Gerard and his heart had flown into his throat and that was that. So they sit in the back together so that hopefully, no one can see them holding hands and grabbing knees.

It’s a Friday night, and the group is on their way back from a club. Gerard, Ray and Frank are wasted, Anette and Mikey slightly buzzed, and Bob is just laughing at them all. But Bob hasn’t ever been in this part of Battery City, and with no one to give him directions, he’s gotten them effectively lost.

“Shit guys, I think I took a wrong turn back… well, a lot of wrong turns,” Bob says, stopping the van in an alley to consult his phone for a map. This part of town is not the friendliest—the brick buildings are crumbling and that looks like a crack addict over at the end of the alley. So they need to get the fuck out of here and home as fast as possible.

Frank giggles, hugging Mikey tighter. “Bob, you’re so silly, we’re not lost! Just keep driving.”

“Shut up Frank, you can’t even give directions sober,” Bob says blankly, typing in his home address into the map.

“Just get the fuck out of downtown and we’ll be fine,” Mikey says sleepily. “And hurry, I have to piss.”

“Wait… Bob, what’s that?” Anette asks from the back, pointing out the windshield. She’s frowning as she attempts to crawl over the seats and into the middle of the van, her blonde hair swinging around her. “There, behind that dumpster?”

Gerard is too busy admiring Anette’s ass—which is practically in his face, thanks—to look at what she’s talking about, but Bob says dismissively, “It’s just a dog, Anette.”

Then there’s a bang, like a slamming noise, and they all look up to the dumpster behind the building just a few feet in front of them. They see a dark figure crumple against the dumpster, and then from the back door of the building walk two figures clad in white and creepy masks.

“Draculoids,” Mikey says softly, trying to keep his voice steady, but everyone can hear the tension in it.

Bob starts to lower his phone into the consul so he can drive, but he’s not fast enough. The black figure is saying something, begging from the looks of it, but the Draculoid on the left pulls out a lazar gun and shoots him, the barrel of the gun on the figure’s forehead. There’s a burst of light and the head explodes. Anette lets out a small scream and Gerard catches her before she can fall down onto Frank’s head, but he can’t take his eyes off the gore—mangled flesh and skull fragments, pink brain and red blood, all dribbling out of this guy’s not-head. At least, Gerard assumes it was a guy. There’s not much to go on now.

This is when Bob throws the van into drive and peels out down the alley. The Draculoids look up sharply and start chasing the van with their guns raised, but they never use them. They stop when Bob takes a sharp-ass turn that sends Anette tumbling into Gerard’s lap (Which Gerard is totally okay with). They stand there just staring after the van, and just before Bob makes another turn, one of them pulls out some kind of phone and starts talking into it.

-

“Ray, you’re staying with us tonight.”

It’s after midnight and Bob is turning down the street to his and Anette’s house. They dropped off Gerard, Mikey and Frank with a promise to call in the morning if anything was weird.

“Bob, seriously—”

“No. You’re not staying in that shitty apartment alone tonight,” Bob says firmly, parking the car outside the house. “I’ll tie you to my dresser if I have to.”

“You could at least be courteous and tie me to the bed,” Ray teases with a drunken smile. Bob rolls his eyes and gets out to follow Anette, who’s already halfway up the sidewalk and pulling her key out.

The house is tiny, but Bob has to admit that ever since Anette came to live with him, it’s much, much cleaner and looks quite a bit nicer. She’s got shit organized and most of the furniture matches now and he even gave in and let her paint the living room. The kitchen never running out of food was another perk, mostly because before, Bob had a really hard time of remembering to buy it.

Ray falls over in Bob’s bed and is out before Bob can even finish brushing his teeth. Bob smiles a little at Ray—he does funny things with his lips in his sleep, and sometimes he twitches a lot, but Bob is okay with it. He grabs a book and walks out to the living room. He isn’t tired at all. In fact, he wants nothing more than to get that terrible mental image out of his mind’s eye before he goes to sleep, otherwise he’s going to have fucked up dreams.

It’s maybe an hour after Bob started reading when Anette walks in, her hair messy and what is left of her makeup streaked down her cheeks.

“Bob, what’s going to happen to us?”

He shuts the book and lets her sit down next to him on the couch, setting her head on his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“I just keep thinking… what if they come after us? The… Draculoids?” she asks, biting her lip slightly.

“Why would they?”

“We’re witnesses to their crime. If it was a crime.”

‘She does have a point,’ Bob admits to himself.

“Well… look. Everything will be fine. I promise. I’ll look after you just like always, and even if we get some Draculoid knocking on the door, he won’t know what hit him. Right?”

Anette frowns, but she nods anyways. “Right. I guess.”

They stay like that for the rest of the night though, Bob sleeping with his head on the couch arm and a protective arm around Anette’s shoulders, her cheek pressing into his chest.

-

It’s four-thirty in the morning when the three of them are all awake. Ray wakes from a nightmare; Bob, from the inability to stay asleep; Anette, when Bob gives up, can’t sleep either. So at five, they decide to go for a drive, because Bob and Ray want to get out of the house, Anette doesn’t want to stay there alone, and Ray needs to get a change of clothes from his apartment anyways.

It’s lonely and quiet on the roads, and even though the radio is playing at minimum volume, it seems like a sin to interrupt the morning hours. Bob is tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the song, Ray is watching the buildings pass by, and Anette is fighting sleep and losing. It only takes fifteen minutes to park at the apartment complex instead of the usual half-hour it takes with traffic. Ray runs up to his apartment, promising that he’ll be quick. Bob snorts, but doesn’t say anything else before Ray’s gone.

It’s only about a minute later that Bob’s phone rings. The sound jolts Anette out of her doze and she listens carefully to Bob’s end of the conversation. “Yeah?” There’s a long pause, and Anette watches Bob’s face carefully though the rear-view mirror. She can’t make out what the person on the other end is saying, but their tone is rather frantic, and Bob’s frown gets deeper and deeper until his eyebrows are in danger of touching. “Alright, Frank, just—Frank! Just calm down, we’ll be there in a sec,” Bob says a bit roughly, but it’s still in his cool-Bob way. Then he says, “Trust me, we’ll be there just as soon as Ray changes. Bye,” and hangs up the phone.

“Bob, what’s going on?” Anette asks carefully, and Bob runs his hands through his short blonde beard. Something’s terribly wrong.

-

As usual, Gerard doesn’t get any sleep that night. Granted, it’s partially on him this time because he didn’t want to take his pills. He didn’t want to sleep and have nightmares about dead people, thanks very much. So he stays up all night, curled on his couch with a sketchbook and pencils while Mikey and Frank sleep fitfully in the room across the hall. Gerard tries to think about the rest of the night (like, the part before Bob got them lost in downtown), and he succeeds a little. He gets caught up thinking about how he and Anette had slipped off into the crowd at the club and danced together, taking advantage of being around strangers to grind her like no tomorrow, because if Bob had seen him doing that… well, Gerard hopes that Bob would have been cool about it, but he knows how being defensive over your little sibling goes.

But then Gerard gets trapped into thinking about the Draculoids and that unknown figure that had the misfortune of getting his brains blown out. Then Gerard’s drawing, drawing the gore that comes to mind, and it’s possibly helping him figure out his feelings, but not enough to where he’s going to feel comfortable taking sleeping pills.

He’s like that until about four, scrunched on the sagging couch and drawing, getting graphite all over the outside part of his right hand. His legs are starting to cramp up, but he can’t sit any other way or else it’ll be all wrong for how he’s been working on this zombie. He doesn’t know exactly why it’s a zombie—maybe because of the whole “brains falling out” bit—but it’s a zombie anyways, and fighting back, and he could have gone on with a whole philosophical statement about it, is even thinking one up, when he hears the slam of a car door outside the house.

Gerard freezes up, his senses kicking into overdrive. He’s not sure what exactly is going on, so he creeps into Mikey’s room, finds the spare lazar gun they stole off a Draculoid almost a year ago, and goes back to the living room. He contemplates shutting off the light, but that would give away that he was awake. But maybe it’s Bob or Anette or Ray... no, they would have called first and warned him that they were coming over. So he settles for the worst—they’ve sent the Draculoids after them.

He takes cover in the closet right next to the front door, keeping it open just a sliver so that he can see out of it. He holds the gun tightly to him, his finger just barely on the trigger. He can feel it humming pleasantly in his hands, as if to sing sweetly, “Use me, kill them all!” He wishes that it wasn’t so snuggly warm in his hand, like it fit there. Gerard kind of really hates violence, but when they threaten his friends, his family… shit’s gonna go down.

They don’t even knock on the door, but they do try to kick it in first. It fails, thanks to Gerard’s paranoia and getting a super-strong lock for the front and back doors. Not even Mikey can pick those locks. But then there’s a zapping sound, and Gerard knows that they’ve melted the lock and takes a deep breath, preparing himself for the possible storm. Then they kick again and three Draculoids cross over the fallen door. Their masks are even uglier up close, and Gerard has a fleeting thought that they would make good villains for a comic book, and then questions fleetingly why they wear masks and are called Draculoids before he sees one reaching for his hiding place and he points and shoots just like he had seen in the movies.

The effect can’t have been more surprising. Instead of firing a lazar, like he thinks is going to happen, whateverthefuckitwasthatcameoutofthegun goes clean through the closet door and into the Draculoid’s eye, and it’s another second before there are brains and skull fragments and bits of rubber mask all over the goddamn hallway. It takes Gerard a second to recover, but the other Draculoids look at their fallen comrade, confused. Then Gerard bursts out of the closet, gun blazing, and the other two Draculoids go down, though luckily without more flying brains.

“Wha-what the fuck?”

Gerard just then notices how much noise he has probably been making when Mikey stands in the doorway, squinting at the scene of gore, gripping the doorframe.

“Gee, what the fuck happened?”

“I wasn’t about to let the fucking Draculoids in,” Gerard said, kicking one out of the way so he can reach his brother. “It’s okay now though, except our door is fucked.”

Mikey’s face is still pretty calm, but his skinny arms are shaking just slightly. “Can we… can we get rid of them?”

“Let’s,” Gerard says, and they start dragging the bodies out the front door before the shock can really set in of what he did.

-

Frank wakes up to a cold bed at five AM.

He wriggles around with his eyes closed for a few moments, trying to feel Mikey next to him. But all his hand meets are cold sheets, and Frank groans, longing for Mikey’s arms around him again. So he unwillingly opens his eyes and rolls over.

The first thing Frank really notices (after how cold it is, of course) is the smell. It smells like something is dead, and Frank panics. All he can think as he scrambles out of bed to the hallway is, ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck, where’s Mikey, fuck, if he or Gerard are dead—’

The blood and kicked in door in the front hall sends Frank’s heart beating so fast that he isn’t even cold anymore. “Mikey?” he calls out feebly, shaking so badly that he has to brace himself against the wall. “Gee?”

There’s a shuffle from outside and Frank nearly screams, but it’s just Mikey and Gerard, and they’ve got blood on their clothes.

“Frankie, it’s alright,” Mikey assures him, but it doesn’t do anything to quell Frank’s shaking.

“Wha… blood?” is all Frank can manage to say before Mikey comes to support him with an arm around his waist.

“Draculoids tried to break in,” Gerard explains, and he’s paler and more uptight than usual. “I didn’t have any choice.”

“Frankie,” Mikey says softly, kissing Frank’s hair, “I need you to call Bob. Tell them to get over here now, because I don’t think they’re safe at the house. Gee and I need to figure out what to do about the door.”

“Al… alright,” Frank agrees, and after another kiss, he goes to find his cellphone.

-

It doesn’t take long, once Ray is back in the van, to drive to the Way house. Bob speeds the whole way, gripping the wheel so tight he thinks he could probably break it off. They don’t talk, the radio has been turned off, and it’s the most strained silence yet.

“So… they tried to break in to Gee’s house?” Ray asks hesitantly.

“They did break in,” Bob clarified, taking a turn. “According to Frank, they broke down the door.”

“Shit,” Ray breathes, and then they’re quiet again.

Anette doesn’t know what to say, really. She also doesn’t know what to expect when they roll up to Gerard’s house, but it certainly isn’t the three body shapes covered in a tarp outside in the front lawn, all in a row. She shivers as they get out, and the three of them walk side-by-side up the sidewalk, Bob with his arm around Anette’s shoulders, and Ray next to Bob, close enough that their fingers brush. The front door is indeed missing, and they all squeeze in.

“Gee? Mikey, Frank! It’s us,” Bob calls out, squeezing Anette’s shoulders when she starts to shake from the sight of blood staining the floor.

“We’re in the kitchen,” Mikey calls back, and they follow his voice.

Frank is sitting at the table, staring at a cup of coffee, his hands twitching. Mikey and Gerard are blank-faced and pale, and Mikey says, “Go ahead and drink something, we’re going to fix the door.” (They end up shoving the door back in the frame and blocking it with the couch, which was good enough for right then.)

So Bob and Anette sit down, and Ray makes the three of them coffee. Anette sets a hand on Frank’s and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Frankie, drink some coffee.”

“I don’t want to drop the mug,” he mutters, not taking his eyes off the surface of the dark liquid.

“It’ll be fine, Frank. We’ll… we’ll figure this out.” Anette sounds so sure, even though her voice is shaking too, but only Bob can hear the quaver. “Together.”

When Mikey and Gerard come back, Gerard collapses into the chair across from Anette, burying his head in his hands. Mikey stands there, gripping the table, too deep in thought to really say anything.

It’s Bob that breaks the silence. “I’m not the only one thinking it.” Everyone looks up at him, with varying degrees of exhaustion in their eyes. “We have to leave. We’re not safe in the city anymore.”

“Yeah, and where are we going to go?” Mikey asks, probably not meaning to sound pissy but doing so anyways.

“Anywhere, just away from here,” Bob answers calmly. He knows that they’re all on edge, and not to take the tones of their voices too seriously. “And we have to do it now.”

“Now?” This time it’s Gerard, but his voice is cracking when he says it.

“Yes. We need to clear out, and make sure we can’t be tracked. We’ll just… live out of the van or something until we can find somewhere where the Draculoids can’t get to us, or anyone else for that matter.”

They’re silent while they think about what Bob has said, and it really sinks in that he’s completely right. “Just tell us what we need to do,” Ray says. His voice is reasonably steady, like he’s the first one to really get over the shock.

“Alright, well… we need money and food, obviously. Enough to get us through at least a few days. Cash only.”

“I’ll go clean out my bank account,” Frank says, coming out of his trance. “I can get food.”

“And I’ll go with you,” Ray says, smiling slightly. “I’ll make sure you buy more than junk food.”

“Fuck you, man,” Frank says playfully, trying to punch Ray’s arm but failing pitifully.

“Okay, so you guys take the van, and get gas, too. Anette, you and I need to go back to the house and get what we can from there. And Mikey and Gee—”

“We’ll scavenge around here,” Mikey finishes. “And we’ll see if we can find another lazar gun or two, just in case.”

“Right, so… break?”

“Break,” everyone agrees.

-

Bob takes Anette on Mikey’s motorcycle back to their house to pack some bags and get all the cash they can. Anette presses her cheek into Bob’s back, squeezing him tight around the ribcage. It doesn’t take them long to get back to their house.

“Fuck,” is the first thing out of Bob’s lips.

The front door is hanging on one hinge, the windows smashed in. They can see other signs of destruction in the hallway, and mud tracked in over the threshold. As if drawn to it, Anette starts for the door, and Bob grabs her arm to stop her. “No,” he hisses. “What if there’s a Draculoid in there?”

“Wouldn’t they have already come out and shot us?” Anette asks, trying to wrench away from him, but his grip his firm and he’s about four times stronger.

“I’m not letting you risk it!” he all but snarls, but Anette’s broken away and he has to chase after her up into the house.

The house is in even worse shape on the inside. Furniture is turned on end, slashed, holes have been punched in the walls, burns on everything, shattered glass scattered all over the floor. Bob checks all the rooms he passes to make sure there aren’t any unwanted persons in the house. He can hear Anette in her bedroom, and pushes open the door to see her wrecked bed, light blue walls singed, and clothing scattered. She’s holding a small silver locket in her hand, the one that was their mother’s before she died, and Bob can tell that Anette is trying really hard not to cry.

“Why?” she asks him. Her fingers are white from where the locket chain is being gripped, and shaking violently.

Bob sets a hand on her shoulder, and says, “Pack quick. We need to leave as soon as possible.”

She just nods and follows his directions in a few moments. She throws together her ratty jeans, some tank-tops, a coat, and the locket into an old backpack and leaves, not looking back to her ripped bed and strewn clothing.

Bob is standing in the hallway, holding a sack of his own. He’s redressed in his boots, old jeans, a band shirt and the blazer he had acquired from a thrift store so many years ago. They silently leave and take the bike back to the Way house.

-

“Well, this is it.”

Anette is organizing the large stack of non-perishable food on the table; Frank sits at the end, counting the money; Bob is checking over the spare lazar gun Ray found at his apartment; Ray walks in the door, coming back from checking over the van one last time; Mikey has finished deactivating their phones and moves on to cutting up credit cards. It’s Gerard who finishes packing everything, and when he speaks, everyone looks up at him except Frank.

“We need to leave soon. Best time is rush hour.”

“I beg to differ,” Ray mutters, but everyone is pretty sure he’s joking.

“It’ll be harder for them to pick us out, or even to get us.”

“Done,” Mikey says, setting down the knife and the remains of his card. “We’re as off-the-grid as possible.”

“And we’ve got enough food for a while if we can cook it,” Anette chimes in.

“Six thousand, three hundred and… seventy two dollars,” Franks says, setting down the last two dollars. “That had better be enough.”

“Do we have any idea where we’re going?” Ray asks.

“We can’t get out of the state,” Gerard answers. “Boarder patrol is too tight.” He pulls out a map and spreads it on the small empty space on the table. It shows all the roads, rivers, cities, and more importantly, the desert and boarder of the area. “I think we should just drive to the desert.”

“Are you crazy?” Bob asks, shaking his head.

“No. There are lots of abandoned towns out there, we could stake some out and then pick one to stay in.”

“Sounds thrilling,” Mikey comments sarcastically.

“With any luck, it won’t be permanent.”

“We should go if we’re going to leave.” Anette has finished sorting and looks at all of them in turn. Everyone is sleep deprived, and none more than Gerard, but through the tiredness is a sense of not only panic but determination. They weren’t going to go down without a fight.

“Anette’s right. Let’s get packed. I’ll drive,” Ray says, and they scramble to get the van packed.