Sudden Lunacy

Honest Roy

 "How did I ever get to the point in my life when I was traveling with a piece of antique farming equipment and my half dead son through the forest?" Marcus grumbled as he felt the chilled air around him try it's best to match the iciness of his mood. The world was so quiet except for the occasional car that would zoom by with no offer for help. They were starting to trek deeper into some nearby woods and the luck of finding others would be scarce.

"I'll let that one slide because I know you are going through a hard time now Marcus, but can't we just try to be civil?" Fedora Geezer muttered as he looked down at Conroy. The boy was staring back up at him with cloudy eyes and moaning weakly, his teddy bear barely clenched under his arm. They were trying to keep him as engaged in a conversation as possible so that he didn't pass out again. "It's very rude to interrupt a man when he is telling a story."

Marcus rolled his eyes, not amused at all. He grumbled in frustration as he climbed over a dead tree limb. The man, who still hadn't told him his name, had said there were some cabins deep in the woods where they could seek shelter and hopefully help Conroy. The boy's arms had once again stopped bleeding except for the one major cut on his wrist. As he walked, the man kept his hand tightly bound around it, putting as much pressure as he could to stop the flow of blood. Marcus felt a huge pang of guilt for not noticing how bad the boy's injuries had been. The man had wrapped his wrist as best as he could with the medical gauze but it looked as if the cuts just refused to stop bleeding. There was something very wrong with Conroy but there was probably help for him at the cabins. He had regained some hope that he might survive, but couldn't help but feel a huge amount of guilt.

"Marcus... do... you want... to hear?" Conroy muttered weakly, taking notice that his father was starting to get ahead of him. He honestly didn't care about the story either, his mind too hazy to focus on the details, but he wanted Marcus to come and listen so that he would be close. It hurt his small little heart that this complete stranger was carrying him instead of his dad.

Marcus shook his head. The whole situation had really rocked his temper so he didn't care at all about hearing the story of how the man lost his heart. Still, he reasoned, it was better than the story he had told about his kidney stones about fifteen minutes prior.

"So," The man continued. "My daughter ran into the emergency room and slapped me across the face for driving while drunk.Yelled about how she hated me and wanted to send me to Hell and bla bla-"

"Did.... she l-l-love y-y-you Roy?"

"Well I suppose she-"

"Wait," Macus interjected, a quick confusion creeping onto his face. ''How did you get his name?"

"N.....Name tag."

"Marcus.... Your penis touched my leg and you still don't know my name?"

Marcus blushed, starting to stammer. The Fedora man had a way of completely knocking him down a few notches. He really was starting to not like this character.

"H....h..he-e is actu-a-a-ally the H....h...onest Roy" Conroy muttered.

"What?" Marcus asked, now starting to speak with aggression as he pulled out Conroy's phone and pulled up his twitter feed. It was still the same, people freaking out. Turns out they had been doing so all morning, and he just didn't notice through his drunken haze and aggravation of having to waste the day with his kid. Things were getting worse. People were getting angry, suspecting the government was at fault for having not released information about the disease when they first suspected sufferers had escaped. There were talks of riots and already, numerous groups had attempted to torch the white house. Things were going down fast.

The Man in the Fedora laughed, "Because Conroy is the 'con' Roy. Nice humor you got there kid."

"T-t-thanks...." Conroy mumbled weakly. He looked up at the man's face wondering what the man would look like when he went crazy like the people who had attacked them in the grocery store. Conroy frowned as he wondered what HE would look like. He had always liked peanut butter and jelly, so would the sickness make him wear jelly on his head? Would the sickness make him think that his hands were sandwiches and make him eat them? As Honest Roy's words began to warble more and more and sound like nothing more than a whisper, Conroy found himself running through all the possibilities of what he would be like as a crazy person. He finally reasoned that he would wear jam jars on his feet, wear his teddy's severed head around his neck, and believe he was a Tribble, eating everything insight to build a small army.

"Hey Conroy?" Honest Roy asked calmly, a little concern in his voice. Marcus looked back to see what all the trouble was. "Hey kid?" He gently shook the boy but he didn't stir. "Blimey, the poor scout passed out, we need to hurry, only a mile or two of walking in and we will find the cabins. 

Marcus looked up at the sky as angry clouds stared back at him. That wouldn't help at all. He felt a sudden helplessness wash over him as he looked at Conroy. "Yeah. We need to hurry."