So Long and G'night

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

“Are we there yet?”

“Oh no, you did NOT just pull out a cliché like that!” Carl yells into the back seat at Shane, while I swerve the wheel quickly to the left, away from the curb. “I can’t believe you just made me look away from the wheel! I never look away from the wheel!”

“Shut up, Carl!” Ally hisses, quieting him for probably another three minutes. “Let’s stay focused on the topic at hand.” She’s right, sadly. I roll down the window and peer into the streets—we’re going 15 miles per hour so my head is out all the way—and glance at my surroundings.

It’s getting dark out… but the street lights aren’t turning on. All the house lights are off as well. Was there a power outage? I mutter to myself. “Hey,” Ritsu finally speaks up. “What’s that over there?” She has her finger pointed over and out my window, and so everyone follows the direction with their eyes. There’s one light on, but it’s inside a bar. The weird thing is, I can hear the slightest of laughter. “Should we check it out?”

“Are you CRAZY? We don’t know what—” I slap my hand over Carl’s mouth before he can finish, and stomp my foot on the brakes, causing the car to stop abruptly. All the teens in the back fly forward into the leather of the front seats, and Carl’s head slams into the wheel, causing a loud honk. We all cringe at the sound, knowing we won’t be here for long.

The redhead recovers from the shock of the injury and cries, “What the hell is wrong with you, Kenny?!” I open the door on my side and step out of the car, walking towards the bar. Shane hops out as well, shuffling by my side. “Oh I get it—Mr. Hero is out to save a civilian that doesn’t exist.”

I sarcastially apologize for his head injury. “Forget him dude, you're doing the right thing,” Shane grumbles behind me. “That Carl guy is really getting on my nerves.” I sigh, and he knows I'm thinking the same.

I enter the dimly-lit bar, careful not to step on glass or slip on a drink that was poured on the floor. Once the door is fully opened by Shane, the bell chimes, causing both of us to cringe and stand still for a few seconds. “Alright, the coast is clear,” I whisper under my breath. We take a few steps—leery of our surroundings—and check over every counter and under every table. “There doesn't seem to be anyone here.” No one here but dead bodies. Some are stacked on counters, some are amputated and mutilated... I have to admit though, it'd be cool if this was a video game. But right now, I want to look away. The boy next to me appears as if he's about to puke.

“Wait... I think the noise is coming from the back,” Shane suddenly says. And so we head into the second room of the bar. “You know what? We forgot to bring weapons.” We simultaneously face-palm and pick up some broken beer bottles, shards pointed outwards to the enemy.

The second room of the bar is piled with broken glass everywhere, and the floor is literally made into a swimming pool of vodka. “Man, this place is a disaster after a hurricane...” I mutter. We both smirk and find two glasses that aren't too damaged, dipping them into the 2-foot pool and chugging them. You're never too old to drink, my father always said. It's a bad habit that Shane and I had shared together since our kindergarten years—Connor was never the best role model... ever. I just wish I knew what I know now. I shouldn't have judged Carl and his forgotten smoking habit, seeing what I am. I'm just as bad as he used to be, maybe even worse.