On the Run

Chapter 3: My body was alive but my soul was catatonic

        I was stuck in a haze. Though I could function less like a constant drunk, that didn't mean anything about my functioning as a zombie. I still didn't understand why anything happened, or how. Sometimes I jerked out of a daydream with no wisp of memory of what happened, other times curling up in the midst of a panic attack. There are really no words for it. My body was alive but my soul was catatonic. I registered us crossing state lines, or stopping for gas, but I had no recollection of the brief conversations Alex attempted to start, or my favorite songs he turned up on the radio in an attempt to stir some life within me. None of it worked, robotic nods and motions were all he received.

        It was a stroke of luck that Alex had turned eighteen last month, so we could legally rent hotel rooms, and avoid being questioned and slowed down. I mean, where would we be if we were both still underage? On the streets, easy prey for a psychotic evil genius serial killer. And to think, on his birthday I had merely contemplated him sneaking me into clubs. We still couldn't stay at upscale places, because our pictures were being flashed all over the news (genius media, let's send out search parties after people trying to hide FOR THE SAKE OF THEIR LIVES), so we gravitated towards dodgier, less well maintained motels. Fun stuff, obviously. I mean, who doesn't like staying where prostitutes, pimps, and drug dealers run wild? This caused a multitude of difficulties, in the form of creepy or hungover workers and threatening other guests, but if it kept us alive, it didn't seem to matter. Or at least not at first. But now I know I'll have nightmares for the rest of my life--on top of those at the shooting. Yipee for me! No wonder people are insomniatic.

        Alex cleared his throat from the front seat, tapping music on the back of his neck with his left hand. Anything he had said in the last hour was either a random observation of our surroundings, or an old story about when we were little, so his sudden hesitance intrigued me enough to focus. "We're gonna need to get stuff; like, survival supplies. I get the feeling this isn't going to be the quickest business, he seems determined and highly unlikely to give up, so we'll need clothes, and toothbrushes, and all that other stuff. And new phones, so we can't be tracked, just in case. I know that's an extra expense, but we need to have 24/7 communication access between us, as well as to the police if the need arises. Who knows what he's infiltrated," Alex said. His eyes sidled over to me as one side of his mouth turned upward. "Not to mention a book or two to keep our mind of things whenever we're doing anything inconsequential." A grave smile graced my face for the first time since the shooting. As terrible as things were, Alex knew exactly what I needed to relax.

         It was seven am three days later, and between driving and being terrified, we'd slept about seven hours total between us. "Oh...oh yeah, good idea." I've been so out of it the last couple days, I don't know what I'd have done if Alex wasn't here. I mean, other than already be long dead. Shopping was a good idea: clothes, toothbrushes, deodorant, a map, and--crap. Pads and tampons....oh jeez, those'll be fun days. How am I supposed to ever say, "Hey Alex, I know our lives are kind of on the line here, but we need to stop again. Yes, I know we just did an hour and a half ago." I could already feel the embarrassment emitting from my body.

Alex's voie brought me back to Earth. "We should probably got to a mall, we can grab lunch while we're shopping, and all the stores with all the things we'll need will be in one place. And.." he hesitated, and gave me a look of apology while wincing, like he knew I was about to flip on him (NOT one of his favorite activities...I have to admit, I can be rather frightening). "What?" I said, bracing myself to either cry or scream. We're already running for our lives with nothing but a car and a credit card. What could make him nervous now? "Well...there's salons in the mall. Like, for hair and stuff? We should probably, you know, try to change the way we look so he won't find us as easily. I mean, that's what they to in WItness Protection." He was cowering against the window by this point.