Death Wish

Chapter 12

Badasses: 1, Pussies: 3. I never expected the score to be so unfairly divided.

The only badass here, according to Frank's definition, is Frank himself. The rest of us might as well have died for real and gone to Death. We're barely useful.

Ray collapsed into a full-time nap, Mikey left without a proper explanation, and me . . . well, I just don't want to do shit. 

All of the adrenaline has left and the reality of overexerting myself weighs down heavy on my body. I'm exhausted - but not only physically. Taking in all of this trauma begs for me to join Ray in his naptime. If the princess fro-fro can sleep on the hard ground, so can I. I desperately want to, I need to. 

But Frank won't have at it.

I lay flat on my stomach with half open eyes. "When was the last time we slept?" I ask miserably.

"We can sleep later." Frank says matter of factly. He picks up a lone stick to draw in the gravel scattered across the roof, "We gotta get something together, we don't have a lot of time. We gotta get the Book of Curses and somehow follow through with whatever instructions it gives us." He traces a basic map with his stick before planting an X to show where we are.

I'm glad Frank's putting in the whole ass in this deal, but I wish he'd let me put in only half. I sleepily watch him point to areas all over Death we can split up and scavenge in for the book.

I zone out on the entire thing. My eyes glaze over.

His tattooed fingers point, circle, make wild gestures, and more. He's clearly getting deep into strategies and ideas of his as he moves his hands about and draws more symbols.

"So if you and Mikey go to this half, Ray and I will take this half. We'll keep in contact the whole time - I'll just use my way of travel to get to you guys and say whatever. And for you guys, Mikey can probably just float over or some junk.

Basically we'll be aimlessly looking for awhile before we get any actual clues to where this Book of Curses is. Who knows, maybe we can grab that jackass Bob and ask him where he lost it.

. . . y'know what, Ray and I will do that. I kinda don't like him already, I'd fight him.

Heh. . . uh, Gerard? You listening?"

I blink and break eye contact from the space I've been staring into. "Huh?"

Frank sighs, disappointment written all over his face. It's instantly hard to look at for me - it's undeniable. I quickly try to cover up my cluelessness.

"Sorry, I was thinking about uh . . ." I trail off, looking more and more guilty by the second.

Frank's scowl lifts to a smirk. "You're a dork." He scoffs, tossing his drawing stick aside. "Just look at the map, it's self explanatory." He gets to his feet and wanders to the other side of the roof, stretching his arms.

My eyes flick down to look at the drawing Frank made. It's accurate location wise, but I'm let down by the way our clan is drawn.

Frank is a circle with piercings, Mikey is a crudely drawn ghost with glasses, Ray is a hairball with arms and legs, and I'm a stick with a gun and bad hairdo.

"Do I really look like that?" I mumble. 

After looking at the group for a few more long seconds, I decide I want to change it. I reach over to grab Frank's stick and redraw us.

Frank plods back over, "What're you doing?"

"I don't look like that." I jut my head to his art.