Fracted (Book #2)

Chapter 20: Disemboweled

"You have to let go of my hand somehow." I said to Eiffel.
"I don't wanna." she said in a whiney tone. Kind of obnoxious how a girl makes you go with her at the store.
"But it's a girls' store."
"So grumpy," She put her hand on her waist. "You'll grow wrinkles if you frown."
"I'm trying so hard to smile, but I just don't like being forced."
"Okay, let's compromise."
"Sure, that sounds better. Uh...what else can I do for you?"
"You can, uh...buy a me a new charger?"
"Okay, how much is it?"
"You should know, you're a teen."
"Ehhh..."
"Have you ever had a phone? Please tell me you at least had one phone."
"No," I said bluntly, "I think it's disgusting. How people don't value things around them. It's ignorant."
"Okay, fine, I won't force you."
"Thanks, Eiffel."
"By the way, charger's only $9.95. I'm sure you can afford that, rich boy."
"I'm not rich, I'm just not a spender. I'm a saver."
"All right, all right, I'll leave you alone--but I won't let go just yet." She leaned over and kissed my cheek. She mouthed numbers as she counted to five. Then let go.
I hand her a two one hundred dollar bills from my wallet that only had five hundred dollars from my savings. A wave of smile splashed her face.
"All right, I'll see you in an hour." I tell her.
"See ya. Miss you already." She waved goodbye, filled with joy. We parted ways.

I kept on looking back as I walked, trying to memorize where I had been for the past twenty minutes. Hot sweat trickled down my forehead in the super warm day. I don't even know why I still wore my sweater. My old green sweater that I've been wearing since middle school. I hated it, so much stuff entered my mind everytime I wear it.
I stripped it off and tossed it down the trash. But before it landed inside, a hand swooped down to catch it. I turned, it was a homeless man. His dark eyes stare at me.
"Would you mind if I keep it?" he asked in a voice and breath that reeked.
"Sure." I said.
"Thank you. You're a good boy." He pats my head, tousling it with his grimy hand.
As I turned and walked away real fast, I found my destination, Walmart. I headed toward Keeaumoku Street and went inside. It was small compared to what we had in LA, but the important thing was that it's clean.
I've seen different people with different races. It's like living in another dimension. Where people look equivalent to you; pale white skin, multicolored eyes, and rich, flowing hair. It may seem strange, but I've been trapped all my life inside my claustrophobic comfort zone with all the same-looking people. I was so insecure.

Looking for something you have no idea the reason is for was harder than I thought. I don't have a phone, yeah, but why is it so hard for me to find something so simple like a charger? I looked at the small section where they sell clocks right across the mini-Mcdonald's. Shoot. I only have thirty minutes to find a charger and get back to Eiffel.
It was unnatural for a teen to ran around the store looking for a charger. Kids these days know already where to go. I was hopelessly lost. I needed a quick break, so I went to the bathroom and used the toilet. When I came out of the stall, a man.
It's too bad that the three people inside with us left. I ran for the door after hearing his croaky voice saying, "Hi, Jess...". But before I could twist the knob, he appeared infront of me and twisted my arm.
"No, no, Jess," he said moving his index finger side to side, "No escape this time."
"Please..." I backed up a bit. "I beg you. You don't want me. I'm not meant to be with you, I-I'm not as powerful as you think I am. I may be dangerous but--"
"Who said anything about wanting you? I don't want you. I want your powers. Your abilities"
He stepped closer, clutching a syringe. A power-neutralizer, I thought.
"You're insane. You'll never catch me." "What are you going to do?" he asked. "Run through me and through the door? Try a single move and I can plunge this needle into your skin."
"We'll see..."
I backed up a little too much and made my way back inside the stall. He pushed and slammed the door open with his hand arched back, the syringe pointing directly at me. I feel the tension between every breath. Ky stomach felt ill. If I was capable of projectile vomiting, I would have puked all over his face.
"You wouldn't wanna play this game, Jess. You'll just end up losing."
"What if I win?"
Mr. André takes an object out of his back pocket. Its serrated edges made me cringe. A switchblade.
"Wanna bet?" He said, pointing its tip on the soft part of my neck. My jugular vein thumped against my esophagus. I hoped to not get punctured because of my pulse.
"Maybe not."
The door swung open, a late teen just walked in. Mr. André swooped his leg back and shut the stall's door behind him.
"If you try and make a noise," he whispered, "the needle goes in."
"Watch me."
I sucked in a breath and screamed.
"Help! Help me! He's trying to murder me! Please help!"
The guy bangs on the door. Mr. André turned for a bit, so I grabbed his syringe and twisted back his arm. His blade slipped across the side of my neck. Red pus oozed out of my flesh. But I managed to knee him in the ribs and kick him away from me. He falls to floor, leaving the stranger to drag him out of the stall from below.
I heard sounds of rapid punches landing on soft flesh. I opened the door, seeing the tough guy beat Mr. André effortlessly. He seemed to have bruised knuckles, but Mr. André had the bloodiest face ever. The man was beaten almost to death by some stranger who was randomly on top of him, punching continuously. He managed to save me and I didn't even get his name.
As Mr. André stopped moving, though still vital, the stranger snatched the syringe from his hand.
"What's this, some kind of poison?" I shrugged.
He couldn't help it. I watched him inject the substance into Mr. André's swollen vein on his neck. The stranger left the syringe dangling from Mr.André's skin. He stands up, wiping off the blood from his cheeks and mostly his arms and knuckles. All was strange but helpful.
"You... know... this guy?" he asked, right between breaths.
"Yeah." I whispered.
"Are you okay?"
"I think so. You seemed to have had a lot of fun there."
"I just... got a little carried away."
"What's your name?" I finally asked.
"Jason."
"Jess."
Seconds later after hearing a couple gurgling sounds coming from inside Mr. André, he suddenly bursts into pieces. Pieces that weren't even identified anymore. What's happening? Why'd it just do that? Everything is... mysterious. Peculiar. More peculiar than anything else that happened.
"Why'd you help me?" I asked.
"Because you asked for it." Jason answered, staring at the disembowelment that was once Mr. André.
"I didn't think you'd actually beat him to death."
"Well... I've got some idea why this happened."
He leaned closer and put his chin next to my ear.
"I'm an Innate... just like you. And we're in serious trouble."