Little Fighter (The Lost Boys)

Chapter Four: Rooster

Author's Note: Word of caution whenever the character Lincoln make an appearance. He's lewd, crude, borderline obscene, insane, and profane. He will offend delicate sensibilities and push boundaries. This guys does not play nice nor by any rules. This story is rated Mature for a very good reason. The more you know!

"Man this blows." Paul tossed the dog-eared Rolling Stones magazine that he had been leafing through onto the floor and sighed, completely bored out of his mind. They had all gone out at sundown to feed and after they had cut down a few of the mindless flock David had ordered them back to the cave where they had been hanging around doing absolutely nothing since.

"What a waste of a perfectly good night. There were at least three decent parties going on and I didn't even get to check one out. Tell me again why we're here and not out doing something with our lives? And how come Sarah and Marko got to leave?" Paul complained as he adjusted his position so that his head was hanging off the side of the battered old couch that he was sprawled across. The injuries that he had sustained the night before were no longer an issue and seeing that this was a "kid sister" free evening it annoyed Paul to no end that he had to spend it cooped up in a cave with absolutely nothing to do.

"Argh I'm so bored man."

"Paul, you ask me that one more time I'm gonna ram this wrench down your throat." Dwayne muttered darkly as he gave the torque wrench a sharp tug, making sure the part he was fixing was firmly secured. His motorcycle was standing upright beside the red tower tool box that housed just about every hand-held tool that he would ever need to keep his bike and the others in perfect working condition.

"But I'm bored. I shouldn't be bored. I hate being bored." Paul whined and dug into his back pocket to pull out a crushed pack of Marlboros. Unearthing a red lighter from between the ripped cushions of the couch Paul shook the cigarette carton and cursed loudly when it come up empty. 

"Fuck it!" He growled as he tossed the empty carton away without a thought and rolled off the couch.

"Paul, what are you doing?" Dwayne asked without bothering to look up. He grabbed an oily rag and began to clean away the dirt build-up on the bike's engine.

"Goin' outside to hang myself and see what happens." Paul muttered as he stalked past in a mood. He lashed out with his foot, sending a piece of broken molding skidding across the dirty floor.

"Use aircraft cable and tell me how it goes." Dwayne responded calmly as he twisted the tip of the rag and tried to get at those hard to reach places. He missed Paul's crude gesture but looked up momentarily when David walked into the cave from the narrow side tunnel that led to the smaller caves deep within in the cliff face.

"Is she back yet?" David asked as he scanned the cave with a swift glance.

"Why the hell do you care?" Paul snorted in disbelief as he picked his way towards the mouth of the cave. Dwayne gave the potential situation a once over before he went back to cleaning his bike without saying a word. David glared at Paul with such an intense look that it wiped the wise-ass smirk off the head-banger's face. 

"What is it this time?" Dwayne asked evenly as he put down the rag and picked up an oil can without even bothering to look up. Despite his mild attempt to diffuse the situation it didn't do him any good, as he figured it wouldn't. When Paul was cranky like this it took only the slightest thing to set him off and when that happened the guy wouldn't shut up until the sun came up.

David frowned before he shook his head. 

"Nothing. Just let me know when she gets back." He muttered as he headed to the back of the cave, moving as if he had some sort of dark cloud looming over his head. This caught Dwayne's full attention and he studied David out of the corner of his eye, his usual brooding expression darkening somewhat.