Renegade

- Chapter IX -

- Chapter IX -

Beside the heat, I woke in a cold sweat from the nightmare. I couldn't recall exactly what had happened, but I remembered being afraid. And a clock. No, not a clock.

TICK TOCK TICK TOCK TICK TOCK

The words seemed to bare significance, but as I twisted myself out of my sweat soaked sheets they faded. I tried to recall the dream, but if I began digging too deep it would result in a pounding scull.

"Junior?" I heard along with a soft knocking at my door. I was surprised to recognize my mother's voice whispering from the other side.

Thinking fast, I dove back into the bed with only an unbuttoned pair of jeans on. I listened carefully and slammed my eyes shut as I heard the doorknob twist. It creaked open, and the sound of snickering made me curious.

"If you're going to try fooling me by pretending to sleep, you might as well put some effort into it." She said in amusement. I signed and opened my eyes to see her standing at the foot of my bed still in her pajamas, dirty bed sheets in hand. "Now," she continued with a satisfied smile, "you can either continue to pretend to sleep or come to the garage with me."

"What's in the garage?" I asked skeptically.

She didn't respond as she left my room. Quickly I pulled on the rest of my clothes and followed after her. Before I passed, I glanced into my parents' bedroom. Empty.

The garage was tiny like the rest of our house. The walls were gray and there were a few shelves that held random things. In the corner stood something under a red tarp that hadn't moved for as long as I can remember. Hope sparked inside of my stomach as Mom made her way towards the covered mass.

"Okay," she said, stopping and holding the tarp. My heart soared with excitement, "I was going to wait until you were a bit older, but the opportunity seems to have presented itself early."

With that, Mom pulled back the tarp and a shocked breath caught in my throat. There, underneath the tarp for all of those years, had been a shiny black motorcycle.

"It was mine when I was in high school," she said, patting the handing in nostalgia, "but once you came along I figured I couldn't cart a baby around on my Harley."

"You're gonna let me drive. A motorcycle. Illegally. To school?" I asked both sarcastically and hopefully.

"As long as you don't get caught." She said, smiling and holding a key ring out on her finger. I snatched the key and pulled Mom into a hug.

"Thank you!" I yelled. She shushed me and told me to hurry up and leave.

My optimism was soaring as I turned the key in the ignition and the bike came roaring to life. The engine rumbled like thunder. Just before I pulled out of the garage I heard Mom shout behind me.

"You'll need these." She said, holding out two glistening black helmets.

"Two?"

"Masky will need one too."

I nodded, strapping one helmet to the back and the placing the other on my head. With that, I roared out of the driveway and down the street.

I hadn't seen Masky since the incident in the cafeteria the day before. Judging by the way my father blew up on me, Masky probably got it even worse.

The houses rolled by in a blur of blunt colors. Every few minutes I found myself checking quickly in the woods on the other side, looking for my father. Finally I came to the place where I had found Masky the day before, and was pleased to see him leaning against a tree.