RED PARALLEL

Chapter 1: Thank You For Kidnapping Me

"Move, move! Get outta here!"            

Sound of feet hustling away.

"Yo, white kiddo."

Traviz was prostrated on the ground.

"Hey you, kid," the voice called again. A dude. "Can you hear me?"

Traviz wanted to nod but that was wishful thinking. Everything ached so nothing moved.

The dude sighed. "Those underage murderers... Did they kill you, boy?"

Strange question. No, he wasn't dead. Wait, did he say murderers? Traviz moved his left arm, eager to get up and run off to the infinite, but the guy held him.

"Whoa, buddy. Thank God you ain't dead, yet."

Yet?

The stranger helped him get up. Traviz tumbled thrice, so the guy helped him thrice.

Not a cop, not a soldier, not another green-eyed boy, not a toothless beggar. It was a black guy with a bonnet and a worried face. Rattling a bunch of questions. "What happened? Who were those kids? Where's mom and dad? Do you live close by? Shouldn't you be at school? How old are you? You're so little, bet you're ten. Can you walk?"

"I'm thirteen..."

"Okay, thirteen-broken-boy, so you can't walk..." The guy peered around and looked back at him. "Jeez."

Hm?

"What's that shit on your neck?"

"What..." Traviz touched the back of his neck.

The tip of his fingers. They were red.

"Mom, you're bleeding!"

Traviz tumbled again.

"Shit, kiddo!"

—

His groggy eyes opened, and there it was: a kaleidoscope of rouge and yellow, turning into stripes, turning into plaid, showing off pills and that fluffy foam trying to escape. The fabric looked old and dirty. Someone was dressed up in that alien suit, and that someone was a couch. Traviz blinked. Yeah. He was on a couch, lying on his side, breathing from the dusty situation and not enjoying the warmth of his breath bouncing back on his face.

People were talking. Strange voices. He wasn't sure if they were strange because they were strangers or because the voices were indeed strange. Confused, he swallowed dry, looked to the left, and there it was: a ceiling. Yellowish, with a dangling fan pointing toward everywhere but his direction. Damn, it was hot.

There was no doubt. His body was made of jelly. Numb, melted, sluggish. There was some sort of blanket over him. But he wasn't sure if it was a blanket or a bunch of teddy bears. What the hell. He tried to turn his neck to the left, and as he did so, the view flickered and a bizarre pain struck through his neck. He shut his eyes. The view bounced back to an odd picture. A skinny boy. A green-eyed pale boy. Squeezing his throat and cutting the back of his neck.

Traviz snapped open the eyes. Jeez. Where was the bonnet dude? Had he abandoned him? Damn, he shouldn't have trusted him. He should've run.

I gotta run.

Laughter echoed about. Somebody clapped hands. Unbridled, Traviz's heart galloped inside his ribcage. Shit, I gotta run.

The air simmered. He raised his left arm but it was reluctant to cooperate. Instead, his shoulder lost balance and he toppled with his back at the couch. Man, it hurt. He looked up at the ceiling and the ceiling did not look down at him. His impatience waxed and he kicked his left foot. Something fell off the couch. Before he wondered what type of blanket lost its pieces like that or if it was indeed one of the stuffed teddies piled over him, someone cheered.