Connor drove away from the ATM and turned out of the parking lot. They had close to $500 now and though Connor pocketed his ATM card, he wasn’t planning on using it again anytime soon. It wasn’t safe.

Next step was finding a phone and luckily, Connor knew there was a payphone outside the Dollar Store, so they headed there first.

It was just past midnight, and the roads were barren. Connor’s eyes were peeled, though. They had to get out of this car. They might as well have been driving a hot pink Pussy Wagon with a million bells and whistles with the amount of heat they were generating. Surely, the cops were already looking for them.

Connor had to drive past Pizza Hut to get to the Dollar Store. The restaurant should have been closed by now, but it was all lit up. Tamera’s, Angela’s and David’s cars were still in the lot. He didn’t see any cops, but that didn’t mean anything. Obviously, Connor wasn’t there. Neither were the cops.

Connor clenched the steering wheel tight. He was fucking terrified.

They flew past Pizza Hut and continued down the dark road and after several silent minutes of driving, they reached their destination, a dark shopping center with a Subway and a Dollar Store. “I have to call someone,” Connor said as he pulled up to the front of the store and parked next to the payphone. He shut the car and the lights off and rummaged around the cup holder for some quarters.

“Who?”

Connor didn’t answer. With a handful of change, he got out of the car. “Stay here,” he said before he shut the door and went to drop some quarters into the payphone.

He punched in the number and waited impatiently for the phone to connect. He’d never believed in religion, but he said a hopeless little prayer.

“‘Ello?”

“Hey. Dad. It’s me.”

There was a brief pause. “You in jail or something?”

“Not yet,” Connor said. “Listen, I need a favor.”

“Christ,” the old man rasped. “What?”

“Can you come get me? I need to disappear,” Connor said. “Please dad.”

There was a deep sigh on the other end of the phone and Connor clutched the plastic receiver in a death grip.

“Please,” he begged.

“Where the hell are you?”

“The Dollar Store. Off South Main Street,” Connor said. “I have my car here, but it’s hot. I can’t go any further.”

“What the fuck did you do?”

“I really can’t explain. Please, just come.”

“Son of a b—!”

Connor pulled the phone away from his ear. He could hear the old man’s raspy voice hollering colorful expletives. He hadn’t had to listen to this shit in a couple years. He wasn’t going to start again tonight. After a moment of listening to his father bellow, the old man barked his name and Connor pressed the receiver back to his ear.

“I’m not supposed to be on the road, dumbass. You know that,” he growled. “And I’ve been drinking.”

“Take the back roads,” Connor said. “Please, I’m desperate.”

“Shit,” the old man grunted. ”If I get pulled over, I’ll kill your ass once we’re in jail. You got that?”

“Fair enough,” Connor said. “I’m pulling my car around behind the building but I’m here. Just pull in the parking lot and I’ll come jump in.”

“Whatever.” The phone went dead.

Connor sighed and hung up.

“Who were you talking to?” M asked when Connor got back in the car.

“My dad.” Connor started the car and crept it around behind the building. Finally, they were hidden from the road and Connor relaxed a bit. He shut everything off again and leaned back in his seat.

M blinked at him. “The mean guy who beat you?”

“Yeah. But we don’t have a lot of options. Hannah hates us both. There’s no way she’ll help.”

M pouted. “Is your dad going to hit you?”

“If he does, I’ll lay him out flat,” Connor growled.

M chewed on his lip. “I’m scared.”

“Well, you should be. You don’t even know what jail’s like and that’s where they put little boys like you who kill.”

M’s eyes widened. “What is jail?”

“The worst place on earth,” Connor said. “They keep you in a single, white room and they never let you go.”

“Is there a TV?”

“Sometimes. But you have to share with everyone else.”

M shrugged. “I like watching TV with you.”

“We’ll never see each other again!” Connor snapped, irritated the boy didn’t seem to get the idea. “They don’t let friends hang out. They don’t let lovers stay together. Whatever you thought you wanted, they won’t let you have it. That’s jail.”

M stared at him with wide eyes.

“Oh, and the food sucks. They give you peanut butter sandwiches every day, all day long.”

“I like peanut butter.”

“Fuck off, M!” Connor shouted. “No, you don’t! Nobody likes peanut butter every day for the rest of their lives!”

M fell silent and looked sadly out the window. Guilt nibbled on Connor’s nerves, but he let it feast. M didn’t fucking get it! They were so fucked right now!

They sat and waited and waited some more. After a while the dog started whining and Connor opened the back door so Jack could relieve himself. The dog got out and sniffed around the back lot. He was particularly interested in the dumpster.

Connor watched the dog pick around the trash. A strange mixture of boredom and anxiety churned in his gut.

Jack stood up straight all of a sudden and he bolted for the car. Just then a wash of headlights blazed around the corner of the building and Connor sat up straight. The lights died down and Connor spotted his dad’s old pickup truck.

“Shit,” Connor let out a sigh of relief. “That’s him. That’s my dad.”

M stared out the windshield warily.

“C’mon. Let’s go.” Connor jumped out and ran right into the dog. Jack was poised and ready to fight. He stood protectively between them and his father’s truck. “Its fine, Jack,” Connor said and he gave the dog a friendly pat. The dog deflated a bit, but he continued to stay close.

Connor popped the trunk and grabbed their bags. M stood beside him, saying nothing, looking gloomy, and Connor sighed again.

“I didn’t tell my dad you’re with me. I didn’t tell him about the dog either. He’s probably not going to be happy.”

“Is your dad ever happy?”

“When he’s alone with his booze, yeah.”

M nodded solemnly.

“Just… don’t say anything. If he asks what happened, let me explain.”

M nodded again and Connor shut the trunk. He locked the Honda up and touched it lovingly. The car had always been good to him. It was a piece of shit, definitely, but it was Connor’s piece of shit.

M followed him to the truck and the dog was right on their heels. They’d just stepped into the headlight’s beam when Connor’s dad got out.

A thin but strongly built old man came around to meet them. He walked sluggishly and his dirty boots scuffed through loose asphalt. They were untied and the laces dragged behind him. He had a scowl on his haggard face and a patchy 5 o’clock shadow creeping up from his neck.

“Hey dad,” Connor said.

Marshall’s scowl didn’t relent. He waved a black-stained hand at M. “Who the hell’s this?”

Connor blinked jadedly. “This is M, my roommate. M this is my dad, Marshall.”

“You got a dog?” Marshall snorted with disgust.

Jack growled up at the bitter old man.

Marshall spat on the ground. “What the hell’s going on, boy? You aren’t getting me into some kind of trouble, are you?”

“No,” Connor said quickly. “And the less I tell you the better.”

Marshall stared at Connor for a moment. It was pitch black out and the only light came from the old man’s headlights. Connor waited for the man to flip him off and start laughing in his face. He waited for more yelling and anger. He waited for his father to properly disown him before he climbed back into his truck and left them behind.

Marshall cracked a grin, showing off his rotted, broken teeth. “Fair enough. Where am I taking you idiots?”

Connor breathed a sigh of relief. “Is there any way we can go back to your place for a while? I really need a favor—”

“You mean, besides this?” Marshall chuckled. The sound of it was like gravel rolling in a tin can. “You picked me up at the hospital. Once. I owe you a ride.”

Connor narrowed his eyes. He slid his fingers into the pockets of his jeans and he carefully selected his next words. “You owe me for so much more than that,” he said. He caught his father’s gaze and refused to let it go. The old man drew himself up. He looked offended, but Connor couldn’t let this go. M needed his help and failure was not an option. Connor needed Marshall’s truck and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“What are you talking about?” Marshall furrowed his brow.

“Seriously?”

Marshall pulled a face. He looked like a fucking pouty child.

“Remember when I graduated from high school?” Connor asked. He shifted M’s bag onto his shoulder, angry he had to pull out this stupid memory to prove a point. Marshall gave him a blank look and Connor snapped. “Of course not. You didn’t show up. I didn’t expect you to. I went to the ceremony to prove to all those assholes I graduated with that I’d made it.” But Connor was getting off point. He redirected, looking into his father’s dark eyes. “And when I got home you were drunk. As usual-”

“So?” Marshall barked.

Connor glared at the old man. “When I walked in the door that night, you saw me in my graduation gown. You started laughing. You thought I was dressed up as a wizard or something. You just couldn’t get over it. You started pushing me around like it was a joke.”

“Eh!” Marshall cracked a grin. “You should have pushed me back. I get stupid when I drink.”

“Yeah. I know,” Connor sneered. “And I should have punched your lights out, is what I should have done,” he said bitterly. “But I didn’t. I put up with your bullshit. As usual. I let you smack me upside the head. I let you hit me across the mouth. I let you shove me into my room. Totally shamed, for wearing a fucking graduation robe!”

Connor breathed heavily, furious. Beside him, M was looking between Connor and his father with pain in his gleaming eyes. Marshall’s mouth gaped open. He was speechless.

“I need a favor, dad,” Connor said. “It’s the least you can do.”

Marshall snorted. “This is stupid. Standing here, in the dark.” He pulled a pack of Marlboros out of his back pocket and he lit up a cigarette. “Put the dog in the back of the truck. You can drive us back to the trailer.”

Connor nodded. He gestured for M to follow him, and the dog was smart enough to keep close. Connor got the back hatch on the truck open and tossed their bags onto the bed, then M helped him boost Jack up there, too.

Marshall was already in the passenger seat, so Connor led them around to the driver’s side. “You’ve got to sit in the middle,” Connor said.

M frowned, but he didn’t have much choice. He climbed up into the truck and slid in beside Marshall. Connor followed him and took the wheel.

He hadn’t been to his father’s trailer park in months, but Connor knew the route like the back of his hand. They pulled out of the shopping center and went down Main. They got on the highway and headed in the direction opposite of the college. It’d take 20 some minutes to get to the trailer park and the drive was a straight shot.

Marshall continued to smoke his cigarette. Connor noticed that M wrinkled his nose a lot and that he covered his mouth a few times. He wished he could do something about the nasty smell, but Marshall didn’t notice or care that he was choking the other passengers.

He was dirty and sloppy. It wasn’t just his hands that were stained. His clothes had a fine layer of the black metal shavings, too, and it settled into the wrinkles marking his face. He picked up the grease and the metal shavings from his job at the steel mill and was so used to the grime, he almost seemed to forget it was there.

The old man finally rolled his window down, not to let the smoke out, but to trash his cigarette butt. Either way, the smoke cleared out of the car. Marshall shifted around his seat a bit and then reached down underneath. He was looking for something.

“Need some help?” Connor asked. M was inching closer to him, clearly uncomfortable.

“Got it,” Marshall emerged with a brown paper bag. He pushed the top down and exposed the green glass of a Heineken bottle. He popped the cap and took a swig.

Connor rolled his eyes. Fucking drunk.

“So, what do you got going on these days? What’s this shit about you needing to disappear?” Marshall asked.

“Uh, I didn’t mean to be so dramatic,” Connor backpedaled. “I owe someone some money and I just need to get out of town for awhile.”

Marshall laughed. “You fucking idiot.” He laughed some more. He’d always enjoyed humiliating Connor. That hadn’t changed apparently. “Loan sharks?”

“Yeah,” Connor said. “They’re being difficult and making it impossible for me to go to work right now.”

“Then how are you supposed to pay them back?”

“By getting the fuck out of town,” Connor said. “So that’s what we’re trying to do.”

Marshall took a long drink off his beer. He tilted the bottle back and let the Heineken drain down his throat.

Connor glanced at M while his father orgasmed over his beer. The blond was pushed up awkwardly close to Connor, but he was trying hard to avoid physical contact. M scowled at the old drunk sitting next to him. Connor could feel the waves of discomfort coming off the boy. He sympathized.

But he couldn’t do anything in front of Marshall.

“What sort of favor do you need?” the old drunk rasped.

Connor paused. He’d been hoping to ease into this question. He’d wanted to have Marshall sitting down with more beer in front of him first.

Well, Marshall did have some beer in front of him and Connor couldn’t just ignore the old man.

“Since you can’t legally drive and all, I was wondering if I could borrow your truck for a while.”

Marshall laughed. He leaned over to peer closely at Connor, a move which pushed his body into M’s personal space. The boy scooted closer, and he clutched helplessly at Connor’s thigh. Connor looked down and saw the boy hiding his face against his side.

“You sure do look stupid,” Marshall said, and he finally leaned away from them, sitting back on his side of the bench seat. “But I can’t believe you thought I’d go for this. Fuck no. I’m not giving you my damn truck.”

Connor frowned. “I didn’t say ‘give’ I said ‘borrow’.”

“Like you ‘borrowed’ that money you can’t pay back?” Marshall chuckled darkly. “Are you on drugs, boy?”

“No,” Connor’s face felt hot and he was glad it was too dark for Marshall to see him clearly. “I made a mistake, but I did it because I’m in a desperate situation,” he said. “I won’t go into details, but I’m in a bad spot.”

“Cry me a river.” Marshall snorted.

“I will bring your truck back,” Connor argued. His face bright red. “I just have to get out of here for now. I’ll be safe and I’ll have some time to figure everything out.”

“Like I believe that,” Marshall lit another cigarette and M wiggled even closer. The smoke filled the front seat with a bitter smell.

Connor zipped his lips. He was itching with anger, and he wanted to set things straight with his dad. But he knew if he opened his mouth right now, he’d start screaming and speeding and being crazy.

He concentrated on the road. His knuckles were white on the wheel.

Marshall drank and smoked the rest of the way to the trailer park. Connor turned into the gravel drive and rolled past a couple rows of trailer houses. There were trees and gardens. There was a park in the back with swings and a wooden playset. The place wasn’t a complete shit hole. The people were terrible though. Nosy and cliquey and stupid.

He pulled into the little driveway at his father’s trailer. It was almost the exact same as when he’d used to live here. Maybe the blue shutters were a bit more faded. The white siding had definitely gotten grungier. But everything else was the same. The little flower bed in front of the place was still very dead and brown and the mailbox hung slightly askew at the end of the drive. It had been knocked over so many times and put back together sloppily. It never occurred to Marshall to just get a new one.

“You can come in for a while,” Marshall said as he hopped out of the car. Connor let himself and M out on the driver’s side and he went around to get the dog out of the back. “Throw me the keys!” Marshall yelled from the front porch.

“Shhh!” Connor hissed as he hauled the dog over the side of the truck bed. “People are sleeping!”

“C’mom,” Marshall whispered loudly. “The keys!”

Connor put the dog down and ran to assist his dumb, drunk father with the door. M and the dog followed, both of them lagging behind.

After a moment of fumbling with the keys, they stumbled in to the trailer. Marshall ambled into the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge.

Connor moved further into the living room and he went to turn on the lights. There was a dim overhead light and two lamps, one on either side of the couch. The living room was full of old, worn furniture. The carpet was brown and spotted with cigarette burns. The cream wall paper was yellowed and peeling and every table had an overflowing ashtray. Green Heineken bottles and red and white Miller cans stood on every free surface. The place smelled like a bar; it was disgusting.

“You two want a drink?” Marshall asked from the other roomwith his head in the fridge.

“No,” Connor said immediately, just as M piped up a hesitant: “Sure.”

Connor glared at the blond and M’s eyes widened.

“I’m sorry. I’m thirsty,” he whispered.

Connor sighed. “My dad’s trying to get us to drink alcohol. He’s asking if we want a beer.”

M wrinkled his nose in confusion. Connor attempted to explain but Marshall was already coming back into the living room. He had three green bottles, and he cracked their tops off. He set them on the coffee table in front of the TV.

“Sit,” Marshall gestured to the couch and Connor and M sat. Marshall went to sit in his favorite armchair. It was next to the couch, angled at the TV, the most important thing in the house besides the fridge full of beer.

Marshall started drinking. M picked his up. He looked curiously down the neck of the bottle. He sniffed it and recoiled.

Connor smirked at him. He wasn’t touching his.

“So, where are you running too?” Marshall asked after taking a few sips.

Connor shook his head. He hadn’t planned that far ahead. He was anxious to get Marshall’s truck so they could hit the road, but so far the only direction he was heading was South.

“You should go see your mother in Florida. If anyone owes you a favor, it’s her.”

“Yeah,” Connor said.

“Hold on. I think I have her number somewhere,” Marshall said, and he took another big swig of beer, lit another cigarette and got out of his chair. He stumbled down the hall to the master bedroom, smoke following him in a foreboding cloud.

M coughed a little and he licked his lips. “This doesn’t smell good at all,” he said. He put the beer down.

“Beer is the worst,” Connor said. “And it doesn’t even have the courtesy of tasting good. There’s no raspberry Heineken.”

M carefully touched his tongue to the rim of his bottle, then recoiled, making a face.

Connor sighed. “Let me go see if he’s got a glass of water.” He wasn’t feeling very confident about the water, but he was sure he’d be able to find a clean glass with ease. He got off the saggy couch and ventured into the kitchen.

In the next room, the linoleum was torn up in certain places and the counter was stained with various foodstuffs. Connor didn’t bother turning on the light; he was afraid he’d see roaches. The light from the living room bled through the large cutout window anyway.

He grabbed a glass first. There were three dusty drinking glasses inside the cabinet over the fridge. He took one to the sink and finally the moment of truth. Connor twisted the faucet…

And nothing. No water.

Connor laughed. Of course. Marshall cared so little about being clean or about normal shit, like drinking water, that he never bothered to pay the bill.

Connor left the glass in the sink, and left the dirty little room, heading back to the couch.

“What were you doing in there?” Marshall came charging down the hall with a slip of paper in his hand. He eyed Connor suspiciously.

“I was seeing if you had any water. M isn’t going to drink that beer. I’m not drinking mine either.”

“What?” Marshall looked at his guests with offence. “He touched his! And I’m not pouring it down the drain! You’d better finish what you started, boy,” Marshall growled at the blond.

M’s hand fluttered to his mouth. “I’m—I’m sorry—”

“Dad! He isn’t going to drink it. And take mine! I didn’t fucking touch it,” Connor covered his hand with his sleeve and plunked the bottle Marshall had put out for him beside the old man’s half-finished beer.

Marshall grunted. “I’m not drinking off that fairy’s glass,” he said, eyeing M with distrust. “What’s wrong with it? This beer ain’t lite enough for you?”

“He likes margaritas,” Connor said dryly.

Marshall burst into laughter. “Is this kid your girlfriend?” He stumbled to his armchair and fell into the seat. “Ha! Is he your live-in-butt-buddy?” he smacked his knee and grabbed his beer up for another round of drinking.

Connor slumped back onto the couch. He grabbed M’s beer and started to drink the nasty shit. Marshall was so fucking worried about it being wasted but yet was too squeamish to do anything about it. Fucking dick bag.

“He’s my friend,” Connor said.

“From where? College? Did you meet him at the gay-fairy club?” Marshall chortled. He sloshed beer down the front of his shirt, but he didn’t even notice. “What do you guys do together? Pick up hotties at the bar?”

“I wouldn’t go to a bar if you paid me,” Connor said edgily. He chugged more beer. Fuck. The shit he got into because of M! He glared angrily at the kid and M, who’d apparently just been watching him, looked quickly away. His cheeks were flushed with embarrassment.

“Sure, I bet you hate normal bars. But if it’s one of your special fairy bars…” Marshall grinned stupidly. His teeth were gross. Connor wished he’d stop smiling. “This kid’s your girlfriend, right? Or I mean boyfriend. Or is he a girl in disguise? I heard girls do shit like that nowadays. What’s your name again? Emma?”

“M,” the little blond said. He was glaring at the dirty old drunk. He sat up straight and drew himself up taller. “It’s short for Michael.”

“What a cute nickname,” Marshall gushed.

“Dad,” Connor said warningly, but he was ignored.

“My Connor’s never brought a friend home before, little Emma,” Marshall said loudly. “You’ll have to apologize. I’m just excited to finally meet one of my son’s special friends.”

Connor bitterly swallowed a large gulp of beer.

“Your super cute, Emma.” Marshall grinned at the blond.

“Thanks,” M said guardedly and that set Marshall into another fit of laughter.

“I can’t fucking believe this! My son’s a huge faggot and he brought his little boyfriend home!” he laughed and laughed. He stopped to finish his beer and Connor watched him with fury festering in his belly.

He drank more of his Heineken too. It churned and roiled in his stomach. He felt sick. But he kept a straight face. He had to. He couldn’t leave without the truck.

“Fucking faggots,” Marshall sneered. “Walking around like they’re completely normal—”

“Dad!” Connor yelled.

“What?” Marshall grabbed Connor’s beer and he started to empty that as well.

“We need your truck,” Connor said, more than a little desperate. “We need to get out of here.”

“How much money do you got?” Marshall asked.

Connor glared at the old man. “Nothing! That’s why I had to borrow money in the first place.”

“Then sorry. I can’t loan you anything. I need a down payment. My license is only revoked for 6 more months. I’ll need something to drive when I get it back.”

“What?” Connor blinked.

“Riding the bus is getting old.”

Connor stared at the old man, hatred burning in his gaze. It didn’t stop Marshall from sipping on his beer and from looking at M with a sneer. The blond shifted uncomfortably beside Connor and the feeling of Connor’s hatred grew hotter. It started to burn up his insides.

He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and rummaged through the money.

“There,” he spat. He tossed a few twenties onto the coffee table. “That’s a hundred bucks. That’s all I’m giving you.”

Marshall leaned forward and traded the cash for the slip of paper he’d carried in earlier. He quickly counted through the bills. “That’s your mom’s cell. She always said you were welcome to visit. I don’t see why now would be a bad time.”

Connor was still fuming, but he took the slip of paper and put it inside his wallet. “I think we should go now,” he said.

“You didn’t finish your beer.”

Connor guzzled the last of his Heineken. It made his stomach burn, and he just wanted to leave.

Marshall laughed again, but he was pulling the keys out of his pocket. He took the house key off the chain and then dangled the truck keys temptingly.

Connor stood up and ripped them out of his hand. “C’mon M.”

The boy was already off the couch. He followed Connor to the door. The dog was lying there on the welcome matt, anxious to go.

“I’ll have this money waiting for you when you bring the truck back,” Marshall said.

Connor rolled his eyes. He wouldn’t hold his breath. He’d never see that money again. “See you later,” he said.

“Have a good trip!”

Connor slammed the door shut behind them and shook himself off vigorously. He felt like he was caked with dirt and grime.

“Sorry about him,” he said straight away.

“It’s not your fault,” M said, following Connor to the truck. Connor figured he’d get in the passenger side, but when he stopped beside the drivers side door, M nearly ran into his back. Connor turned and saw he had both the blond and the dog following him. He sighed and lifted Jack up onto the bench seat first, then turned to M. “Do you need help, too?”

M shook his head. He sidled around Connor and climbed into the truck. He slid in next to the dog and put his arm around the mutt, leaving tons of space for Connor behind the wheel.

Connor got in behind the two of them and shut the door. The truck flared to life beneath them, and Connor felt nothing but relief as they rolled out of the trailer park. He’d left this place for good years ago. He frowned hatefully at the weather worn sign at the front of the park as they pulled out onto the road again. Shady Lanes Park.

This place might as well have burned to the ground for all he cared.

“Where are we going now?” M asked.

They were heading back to the highway. Connor wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but it had stuck. He was finally going to visit his mother in Florida…

“I’m not sure yet,” he lied. It was easier than the inevitable awkward explanation he’d have to give if Julie slammed the door in their faces. Connor planned on calling his mother, once they reached Tampa. But until then, he was going to keep it a secret.

“Is your mom nicer than your dad?”

Connor frowned. M had heard everything Marshall said back at the trailer. Why had he thought M would be stupid enough to forget?

“I don’t really know her,” Connor said and unfortunately, it was the truth.

“She can’t be much worse,” M said, worrying his lip. After a moment, he spoke again. “Why did your dad call me a girl?”

Connor snorted as they got on the on-ramp. “Because he doesn’t understand why two guys would ever be together. He could bang his head against the wall all day and still never understand.”

M furrowed his brow in confusion. “Would banging your head on the wall help?”

Connor rolled his eyes. “Not really. But it might actually improve my dad’s stupid brain. Alcohol kills your brain cells. Maybe he needs to shake his head up to think better.” Connor shook his head around like he was a bobble toy. M giggled.

They drove past the exit to their town. And then several minutes later they passed the college’s exit too. Connor navigated south. He fiddled with the radio occasionally but kept his eyes on the road. Eventually, Jack curled up and laid down on the bench seat. It didn’t take very long before M was pillowing his head on the dog’s fur. It was just past 2am now, much later than M was used to staying up.

The money burned a hole in Connor’s back pocket. But he wanted to get out of the state before they stopped for anything besides gas. He was in for the long haul now. 3 more hours and they’d be out of dodge.

 

***

 

They rolled over the state line at 5:30 am. The dog had woken up and started whining maybe 15 minutes ago, so Connor headed for the first fast food place he could find.

Connor pulled off the highway and drove into a McDonald’s parking lot. He parked in the back, getting them a great view of the play-place inside. Connor shut the engine off and M woke with a start.

“Wha happened?” he slurred, looking around the dark lot. His hair was messed up and there were little crusties in the corners of his eyes.

“Welcome to Iowa,” Connor said and M looked at him in confusion. “The dog needs to pee and I could use a coffee.”

M blinked, clearly not understanding.

Connor rolled his eyes. “Jump out. Watch the dog while he does his business. I’m going in for some coffee.”

M bit his lip and nodded, then he slid out of the truck and called for the dog. Jack leapt out excitedly and followed M to the narrow strip of grass along the side of the building.

Connor made sure M stayed in the small yard, then he headed into the restaurant. The inside smelled like breakfast. There was a blue haired girl behind the counter and she looked much too cheerful to be there. Connor took a deep breath and prepared for a barrage of pleasantries. He pulled out his wallet and went to place an order.

He came out a couple minutes later with two coffees and a tall cup of water. He had two different bags of food and he felt like he’d spent way more than he’d needed too.

But the look on M’s face was worth it.

“What’s all this?”

“Breakfast,” Connor said as he unloaded their food. “Here, try your coffee and tell me if it’s sweet enough.” Connor handed over the cup of coffee and then got out to pour some water into the plastic tray the blue haired girl at the counter had given him for the dog. Jack immediately started drinking.

Connor and M enjoyed their pancake platters and when Jack finished his water, Connor gave the dog two sausage biscuits. He tore the sandwiches into bits and threw it down to the dog. Jack was over the damned moon. M was in a similar mood. He was all smiles and sticky fingers. Connor opened two of the moist towelettes and swabbed M’s face and both his syrup coated hands.

“I loved that,” M said.

“I can tell. You got it all over your face,” Connor laughed.

M pouted and Connor patted him on his head.

After breakfast and a cup of sugary coffee, M was wide awake. He sat up straight in his seat, talking a mile a minute, asking questions about everything. Connor wasn’t much for conversation at that point, so he kept his answers as brief as possible. He was exhausted and was using coffee to fuel his body.

Speaking of coffee, soon after breakfast, Connor decided to stop for a second cup and a quick bathroom break. It was the humans’ turn this time. They found a gas station right off the highway and Connor pulled up to a pump so they could refill while he ran in for coffee for himself and a soda for M. They both used the bathroom when Connor came back, then they took Jack around the lot for a quick stretch. They were back on the road in twenty minutes.

Unfortunately, the coffee wasn’t enough. As the sun crept higher into the sky, Connor began to feel even worse. He’d been awake almost 24 hours. He wasn’t sure how much further he could go without rest. As if to prove his point, a massive yawn overtook him.

“Are you tired?” M asked sweetly.

Connor gave the blond an exasperated look, then wordlessly drained the last of his caffeine and chucked the cup into the backseat.

“Maybe you should teach me how to drive. It doesn’t look that hard,” M said cheerfully. “Then you could get some sleep.”

That wasn’t the worst idea M had ever come up with. But definitely not now. Not when Connor felt like weights were dragging his eyelids to the ground. They had to stop.

***

The Rodeway Inn was down a narrow lane parallel to the highway. The building, in fact, was right under an on-ramp. The main office was a flat ranch style building but the rooms behind it looked more like shacks than anything. They were separate, boxy little houses painted in ghastly reds and browns. Each little shack had a satellite on the roof. That must be the free internet and HBO, Connor thought as they pulled into the gravel drive.

“What’s this place?” M asked.

“Somewhere to sleep,” Connor said.

“But who lives here? These houses are so tiny.”

“Hopefully no one,” Connor said. “This is a motel. They rent temporary rooms here for travelers to sleep in for a few hours.” They parked by the main office and Connor looked through the large front windows at the counter inside. “I’m going to see about getting us a room. Why don’t you take the dog for a little walk?”

M nodded and let himself out of the car while Connor went in to see how cheap a room they could get.

It went well enough. The Rodeway Inn only accepted cash and they held onto Connor’s ID as collateral. There were no check in/check out times. They calculated the total based on hours spent in the room. It was all pretty standard. Connor was assured the room had a TV, a bathroom, and a bed. That was all they’d need.

Connor left the main office with a set of keys. He spotted M far down the lot. It looked like he and the dog were playing tag or something. Instead of calling him over, Connor jumped in the car and drove down past the other rooms. Theirs was back there anyway, towards some empty fields in the back.

He parked in front of Room 109. It was one of the Inn’s two non-smoking rooms and he’d ended up paying a whopping 20-dollar fee for the luxury. He scowled at the rickety shack in front of him. It looked like a real shit show.

“Hey!”

M ran up to the car and Connor rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the weariness settling in. He got out to greet the boy.

“Did the dog do his business?”

“A little,” M said. “Is this our room?”

“Yep. Ready for a horror show?”

M tilted his head to the side and looked at Connor with confusion.

Connor sighed. “Let’s check it out.”

The room was pretty terrible. Connor didn’t dare look closely at anything because a mere glance showed nothing but dust, stains, and grime. The mattress was soft, something Connor hated, and the blankets smelled weird. The TV was right across from the bed on an empty dresser. M curiously opened one of the dresser drawers and it banged out of the rack and fell to the floor.

“Sorry!”

“Don’t be.” Connor shoved the dust laden drawer back into the dresser. “This place is just as shitty as I imagined.”

Besides the bed, dresser and TV, there was a small table with a single chair by the window and a sink with a mirror in the back, just outside the bathroom, which was by far the worst part of the room. When Connor pushed the door open and hit the lights a creepy bug scuttled across the tiled floor and crawled into a hole in the wall behind the toilet.

“Ok. Don’t use the bathroom unless it’s necessary, don’t take your clothes off, and try not to touch anything,” Connor said as he firmly shut the bathroom door.

“Huh?”

“Just do as I say,” Connor said impatiently. He needed sleep, then they could leave this infested place. “We won’t be here long. I promise.”

“Alright,” M muttered.

Connor tossed the blankets off the bed. The sheets underneath looked clean enough and the smell was gone. He figured that was as good as it was going to get.

“What’s wrong with those blankets?” M asked, then he sat gingerly on the edge of the bed. “Ohhh. Soft.”

“Can’t you smell them? They reek,” Connor said as he flung the blankets on the floor. “You can make a bed for the dog out of them if you want.”

They both looked toward the dog, lying in a little ball by the door with his head between his paws. Jack wasn’t thrilled about the accommodations either.

“Ok,” M said, then he bounced off the bed and went about messing with the smelly blankets.

Connor watched him for a minute or two, then he finished arranging the bed for his nap. He fluffed the pillows, then invitingly pulled back the sheets. When he was done, he sat with M for a while, getting him accustomed to the TV remote. He left M after that to go back to the main office for supplies. He got a couple pops, some chips, and some candy from the vending machine out front, then took everything back to the room. He set the dog up with a bowl of water, laid out the snacks for M, then finally crashed on the bed.

“I’m gonna try sleeping for a couple hours,” Connor told the blond, already feeling his eyes drifting shut.

“Oh.” M was busy making a cozy hideaway for the dog under the table. Jack watched the boy work with a bored expression on his face. “Okay. Well, good night.”

Connor wearily toed his boots off. “Wake me up if anything happens.”

M nodded distractedly. He fluffed up the smelly blanket and then draped a section of it over the chair. He was trying to make some sort of canopy.

Connor rolled on his side and studied the blond crouched next to the bed. He’d never had so many emotions attached to a single person…. Just yesterday he’d been so into M. He’d wanted to kiss him and everything! But today?

Honestly, he didn’t know how he felt about M anymore. But the sense of obligation was strong. He was M’s protector and that’s what he was doing. He was protecting M. He was using every resource available to him to get the job done. Nobody could fault him for that.

Connor flopped onto his back as a heaviness came over his body. Sleep pulled at the edges of his thoughts, and he closed his eyes firmly. Connor fell asleep to the sounds of M cooing to the dog.

“C’mon puppy! Come see what I made for you!” M said in a stage whisper.

Connor quirked a smile as he drifted off. At least M was an adorable killer.

 

***

 

Connor woke in the middle of the woods. He was back home and through the trees he could see the swamp lay ahead.

It was dark and the moon was huge in the sky. The glowing orb seemed like it had been tacked in place. It just didn’t seem real. It was lit from within and the light it emitted pulsed subtly like a heartbeat.

A strange force pulled Connor forward and he went mindlessly. He stepped over logs, twigs and underbrush. He slopped through mud and crunched through fallen leaves. He brushed a branch out of his hair and batted another away from tearing at his shirt. Then the trees broke, and the edge of the swamp spread out in front of him.

Connor knelt on the bank. He could see something ahead, standing out in the water, but there was a thick mist hanging over it. He looked back up into the night sky, but it was clear out. Not a cloud in sight. Connor had traveled a distance and changed directions, but the moon was still just over his left shoulder, looking just as large, pale, and strange as before.

Connor wasn’t very worried about it. He cast his gaze across the water again and this time a slim, human figure appeared through the mist. Connor was entranced by the sight. He found he couldn’t look away.

Suddenly, the moon pulsed overhead, and a beam of light erupted from its center. It dove into the swamp making the water around it gleam. The light danced across the rippling waves like a surfer and the beauty of it was otherworldly. It made a strange sort of sense when Connor’s eyes began to burn, and he shaded them accordingly. The light was just too glorious to witness for long.

The beam spread out, encircling the figure, and illuminating it with shafts of radiance. Connor saw that M was standing in the water. He was waist-deep in, and his chest was bare. The light played freely across his pale skin.

Connor stepped into the water without a thought. He had to get closer to the blond. He was as beautiful as the light, but Connor could stare at him for as long as he wanted.

He sloshed through the murky swamp. It didn’t feel hot or cold. It was a pleasant body temperature and Connor almost forgot he was walking through water at all. His limbs moved freely, and the temperature blended nicely with his own natural heat.

At last, Connor reached M and the boy turned to him with a serene smile on his face. Connor lifted a hand and touched his cheek. He rubbed the baby-soft skin with his thumb. M was absolutely stunning.

Still smiling, M leaned into Connor’s hand. His bright green eyes fluttered shut and he let out a soft sigh of pleasure. “Connor…”

“Mmm.” Connor cupped the boy’s face between both his calloused hands. “C’mere,” he murmured, and then he leaned in for a kiss. M’s and Connor’s lips met warmly, and M gasped into Connor’s mouth with pleasure. When Connor’s tongue probed his lips, he happily accepted and opened his mouth so Connor could taste him. There were no seizures or other interruptions. They kissed long and deep.

M rubbed wantonly against Connor’s strong body as Connor snaked his tongue around the inside of M’s mouth, carefully mapping the textures and flavors. They were entwined in each other’s arms, their lips locked together; the heat between their wet skin seared white-hot.

They were thoroughly enjoying themselves when the sound of static drove a sledgehammer into Connor’s eardrums. A sharp pain stabbed into his tongue and Connor shoved M away. The damned boy had bit him again!

“Fuck!” Connor screamed, struggling to plug his ears and to clutch his bleeding mouth at the same time. Pain radiated through his head. The static was coming from inside his brain. “No, fuck, no!” Connor cried, tearing at his ears. He was desperate for the static to stop. Please, God, make it stop!!!

Then as if someone had heard his pleas, the noise stopped as suddenly as it had started, and, in its place, a beam of intense light shone down upon Connor’s trembling form. At first, Connor’s sight was overwhelmed with white. He squinted into the light, blinded, but after a moment, shapes appeared and he was able to see everything in clear detail again, but he was alone. No M. Connor spun around, stirring the water. “M,” he called. But the blond didn’t appear.

As Connor twisted his neck, looking high and low for his M, a drop of water drifted up from the swamp below. Connor stopped and watched it float upwards. It was followed by another and another and he craned his head back to stare up at the moon.

It was directly overhead now, and Connor stared up at it dumbly. Suddenly, a curious feeling of weightlessness took hold of his belly, and gradually, Connor’s body lifted into the air. More droplets of water followed, and together, they floated up and away from the swamp below.

Curious, Connor stretched out an arm to touch one of the droplets as they floated toward the glowing moon. It was wet, of course, and he rubbed his fingers together to collect the moisture, but frowned when his fingers were stained red. Slowly, a sense of doom in his gut, Connor lowered his gaze, and oh god, the swamp below was filled with blood!

Panicking, Connor twisted around, trying to get a better look, but found his motions were restrained, and besides an awkward twisting motion of his neck and a controlled up and down gesture with his arms, he couldn’t do much else. He was determined to get a better look at the closest droplet, though, and he bent and stretched his neck. He got as close as he could, squinting his eyes in the harsh light.

It was red. More blood.

Connor thrashed around as he drifted helplessly through the air, but his frantic movements did no good. He was confined by an invisible force, the same force that was drawing him toward the huge orb hanging in the sky. He looked wildly back down to the ground and saw somebody standing below, just on the edge of the swamp.

In desperation, he screamed for help. “M! Please! Help!”

The figure turned his misshapen head to the sky and Connor cried out in shock. It was the man in black. Dark, fractured glasses stared back at him above a grim slash of a mouth. The man took a single step into the bloodied water and started to sink and that’s when Connor realized the swamp was full of body parts. Hands and arms and legs and feet floated to the surface. Maybe that’s why it was full of blood to begin with. Someone had taken Connor’s idea and they were dumping bodies…

Connor went limp and his head tilted upward again against his will, towards the light. A dark hole had opened in the glowing orb and Connor was being drawn into it. It wasn’t the moon at all. It was something else…

 

***

Connor sat straight up in bed. He was drenched in sweat and immediately, he started to shiver.

The tiny motel room was washed in red light from the TV screen. Connor’s eyes snapped to the light source.

There was some sort of segment running on the TV. They were showing off the production line of a sausage factory. The red flesh of the meat dominated the screen and Connor looked away, sickened.

The TV was the only light in the room though and finally, the image changed. The room was basked in soft white light.

He spotted M sitting under the table. The boy’s dog was asleep beside him, lying on top of the comforter bed. M had his fingers pressed behind his ear. His eyes were closed, but in the dim light coming off the TV, Connor was able to see the boy’s eyelids roving back and forth with activity.

He seemed to be in some sort of trance.

A shaft of light cut through the thin privacy curtains. It reflected straight into Connor’s eyes. He glanced at M, then leapt off the bed to look out the window.

The parking lot outside sported a few new customers. The shack across from them was lit up and a rundown Chevy was parked in front.

The source of the light wasn’t immediately apparent. The two or three new cars in the lot were all turned off and Connor didn’t catch anyone lurking around. Then he spotted a light winking above. Up in the sky. He stared at it and as he watched it began to move.

Connor figured the tiny light was a helicopter or a small plane flying overhead. But then the light sped up. It streaked across the sky before it zipped out of sight.

“You’re awake,” M said and Connor let the curtain fall shut.

The boy crawled out of the blankets and Connor turned to face him.

“What were you just doing?” Connor asked.

“I must have dozed off,” M said. “Why?” He grabbed one of the last remaining bags of chips. “Are you hungry?”

Hunger wasn’t on Connor’s mind, but the dream he’d just been rudely awaken from was. Not that he’d rather be back in the dream. Fuck no.

Connor stared at the small boy, taking him in.

M looked no different than usual. He was smiling, but the longer they stood in silence, M smiling, Connor shivering in a cold sweat, the boy’s face started to look menacing. The colors on the TV were casting ominous shadows across his face and Connor fumbled along the wall until he hit the lights.

M blinked and the dog stirred from his comfortable place on the blankets.

“We’re hungry,” M said as he sat primly on the edge of the room’s only chair. “I took the dog out for a walk a little bit ago. Jack tried to eat a dead bird we found in the grass. I tried to feed him some chips but he’d only eat a few.”

Connor nodded. His head was reeling and he stumbled back to the bed. He took a seat, cradling his pounding head in his clammy hands.

“Are you alright?” M asked.

“I don’t know. My head feels weird,” Connor said.

M pouted. “Didn’t you sleep well.”

“No,” Connor said simply. He spotted the TV remote on the table, amongst the discarded wrappers of candy packets and chip bags. He snatched it up and shut the TV off. “We need to talk,” he said.

“About what?”

“The man you killed,” Connor said blankly and then he looked at M.

Panic crossed the boy’s face. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Too bad,” Connor said. “I didn’t want to hide a body. I had to do it anyway. And I want to know why.”

“I told you, the man in black tried to take me. Jack attacked him and he got violent. I hit him to make him stop.”

“You didn’t just hit him. You beat him to death,” Connor said. He felt like he was talking to a fucking child. “Did the guy break in? That’s important.”

M bit his lip. He didn’t look Connor in the eye.

“M,” Connor prompted. “Did the guy break the door down? What happened?”

“He came knocking at the door. As soon as the sun went down,” M said softly, still not looking at Connor. “He called me Michael again. And he said we needed to talk.”

“And?” Connor felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“I let him in.”

Connor dropped his head into his hands again and groaned. “You let him in?”

“Yeah. I thought I should try and see what he wanted—”

“And did that help?!” Connor cried, then looked up, his insides boiling hot with fury. Their eyes met and M flinched and wilted into himself.

“No. He immediately tried to grab me.”

“Fuck!” Connor shouted. “I checked his pockets. That guy you killed is some sort of government agent or something. He had an ID card that named him agent #224! You can’t invite the law into your home and then attack them!”

“He said he wanted to talk! How was I supposed to—”

“I fucking told you! I told you someone was out to get you and you opened the door and invited them inside! Motherfucker, you are so stupid!”

M wrapped his arms around himself. “I’m sorry—”

“Great! Fine! Wonderful!” Connor yelled. “But now you’ve incriminated me in your crime. If we get caught, we’re both going down!”

“What do you mean?” M asked in a soft voice.

“That they’ll take us both away! And it’ll be justified! We killed and hid a fucking government agent! This is really bad, M!”

M didn’t say anything. He folded his hands in his lap and stared down at them.

“Fuck!” Connor got up to retrieve his boots. He shoved his feet inside and sat back on the bed to tie them sloppily. “Now, we’ve got to hit the road again. Because we’re on the fucking run! Surprise, M! I’ve never committed a murder before. I have no idea if we’re safe or how long we have. This is completely new to me. Normal people don’t do shit like this!”

M started to cry. He did so quietly, letting the tears roll down his cheeks.

Connor ignored him. He got his shit together and headed out to throw it into the truck.

It didn’t take long to check out. Connor handed over some cash and got his ID back, then they were pulling out of the Rodeway Inn, hopefully never to return.

“That pay-by-the-hour rent-a-room bullshit is scummy as fuck,” Connor said off-handedly as they got on the highway. The Rodeway Inn had a single feature. It was literally sitting on the highway. There was no travel involved in getting back on the road.

Connor glanced across the seat. M was still crying. His face was tear stained and pitiful to look at.

“Stop it,” Connor snapped. He couldn’t stand the stupid show of emotion. “If you want to be treated like an adult, then start acting like one. You murdered someone. Nobody cares if you’re sorry.”

M sobbed.

“Suck it up,” Connor said harshly. “Be a man.”

“Maybe I am a child,” M said somberly. “I can’t do this.”

“Oh, hell no.” Connor clenched the steering wheel. “You can’t just decide to stop being an adult when things get tough. It doesn’t work like that.”

M sniffled. He sat up a bit and wiped his nose.

“Now, are you a baby or are you a man?”

“I’m a man,” M said. He didn’t sound totally convinced, but Connor was happy enough.

“Good. Now wipe those tears away. There’s a Wal-Mart coming up. We can get the dog some food and maybe they have someplace to eat inside. I guess I am kind of hungry.”

M took some time to compose himself while Connor got off the highway again. They hadn’t gotten very far, but Connor was determined to make it into Missouri before daybreak. They’d get something to eat, they’d use the restrooms inside, and hopefully they wouldn’t have to stop again for awhile.

M wasn’t totally in the clear either. Connor planned to keep an eye on him. They may be on the run together but that didn’t mean he trusted the boy.

Connor’s lack of faith added to the stress building inside of him. That old saying: keep your friends close and your enemies closer, kept running through his head like a mantra.

Well, he’d never been closer to anyone. M was practically glued to his hip. He really wished that made him feel better, but with the cards stacked the way they were, he wasn’t sure anymore the difference between light and dark and the difference between friend and foe.