Author: Chinsky PM
Freddy's done something bad, and Zack just so happens to see him. What are they supposed to do? One thing is for sure, they can't stay. PG-13 for language.Rated: Fiction T - English - Adventure/Drama - Words: 1,325 - Reviews: 12 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 2 - Published: 12-26-04 - id: 2190130
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Hide by CHINSKY
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Peter's based on a crazed Nigerian who proposed to my friend via e-mail.
A/N: Based on The Outsiders with few ideas taken from Mystic River. WARNING: This might eventually turn into a slash. There's always possibilities. This chapter is clean though, so read away.
So, I'm walking past the new Stop and Shop they built around the corner of our apartment. And I'm hearing some weird noises. A few yelps. Some punches. And finally, a big lumph. A fight? I think. This intrigues me.
I decide to go check it out. I live in New Jersey. You don't hear those kinds of sounds everyday.
So I'm approaching cautiously. I'm worried, you know? I don't want to walk in on some fight. Who knows what they'd do to a skinny, scrawny punk like me?
I finally turn my head around the corner, and the first person I see is Freddy.
Yeah. Freddy Jones. Standing over a guy, with his fists clenched and his eyes ablaze.
"Freddy?" I called out incredulously, making sure my eyes didn't decieve me.
"Zack?" He called back, and turned around. His face sort of softened, and for a second, his eyes looked scared. But after that second, his face hardened up again, and I convinced myself that Iimagined it.
He demanded, "What are you doing here?"
"I…I…was just…" My sentence trailed off as I fully surveyed the scene. The guy on the floor, not moving. Splattered with—I gulped,—blood.
"Freddy," I continued, "what the hell happened?"
It was his turn to stutter. "I…He…I was only…" His breathing was short and rapid, whether from anger or fear, I still couldn't tell. Slowly, I took two steps closer, and quickly, Freddy took two steps back. I stopped and waited.
"Did you…is he…alive?"
My question lingered in the air for some time. Freddy's eyes wavered, lingering, desperate for something else to look at. Anything but what was lying motionless in front of him.
Suddenly, I realized that Freddy didn't know. He didn't know if he had killed him. Slowly, I approached the guy on the floor. This time, when I came closer, Freddy didn't step away.
I kneeled down. He was in uniform, probably coming from work. Hell, he was wearing a name tag. I glanced at it. Peter Omokaro. I gazed back up at Freddy. His eyes had finally settled and he was watching me intently. I watched him, waiting for his approval. I received a slight nod. That was all I needed.
The first thing I decided to do was check for a pulse. His face and neck were kind of…erm…bloody (Boy, Freddy sure can pack a punch), so I opted for his wrist. His hands were deathly cold…no pun intended, really...
I feld around on his wrist, but…I couldn't find a pulse. Freddy, who had been hovering around above me finally kneeled down next to me.
"Well?" He breathed, really close to my ear.
I swallowed, though it was hard, my throat was all tense and weird. Grimly, I shook my head.
Freddy let a breath out and looked down.
I felt a need to reassure him something... "It's okay, Freddy, I mean, I could just be looking in the wrong spot and—"
"Zack, what am I going to do?"
It was the first time I heard fear in his voice.
I thought for a moment, then I turned to look at him before speaking, because I was about to suggest something completely outrageous.
"Freddy…If you did something…something bad…you can't stay. Here."
Freddy's eyes widened the slightest, but he nodded. "I know Zack."
"So the question is…" I continued, "Did you do something bad?"
Freddy looked confused. There was silence and I swear I could hear the wheels trying to turn in his head…
I sighed. Sometimes I wondered how this kid got through school.
"Freddy, if you killed this kid for fun, you're in deep shit. If you killed him for a good reason, you're in…not-as-deep shit."
Freddy nodded. "Ohhh, I get it."
I shook my head.
There was a pause. Again. God damn… "FREDDY! What the hell did you DO!?"
I felt like hitting my head against a brick wall. I gave him the benefit of the doubt and hoped the trauma was affecting his brain…
Freddy winced slightly.
"Okay…" he began, and he started his story.
"So I'm walking home after school, right? Yeah. And then, like, I hear this yelling, okay? And someone fucking screaming. Real loud. Right, so I decided to come back here and check it out. And this guy—" He motioned to the unmoving body next to him—"is here, beating on some kid. You know, a little kid. But then, he sees me. So he drops the kid and starts walking towards me, ya know? I'm kinda scared but you know, I'm cool. So he says, 'Whatcha' doin'?' and I'm about to shrug it off when he punches me across the fucking face! And I didn't even say nothing—"
"Anything," I interrupted.
"Anything. You didn't say anything."
Freddy looked surprised. "Oh…okay. Yeah. So. I didn't say…um…" He glanced at me. I guess I scared him. "Anything."
I nodded. Apparently, he's not used to people correcting him.
Then he just sort of started fidgeting and adding the occasional "yeah" and "so.." here or there.
This made me doubt the truth factorbehind his story. And if I don't believe it, who's to say the police will?
Suddenly, there was a rustling noise behind the dumpster. From behind, a small gangly kid ran out. He looked beat up, and his eyes were huge, like a deer in headlights.
He looked wildly back and forth between the 2 of us, and I think Freddy and I were too astonished to say anything.
His eyes finally settled on…Peter, lying between us, and something struck him. He turned and bolted. Just ran. He was out of there like a shot.
That's when I knew we were screwed.
"SHIT!" I exclaimed.
There was no more doubt in my mind. "Freddy, we can't stay here."
He blew out air again, so it sounded like a balloon deflating. "Yeah, I know, I can't—Wait a second, we?!"
I looked at him like he grew another head.
"Um, yeah Freddy. I saw you. I'm obviously not going to the police, and that kid saw both of us, so if you're screwed, I'm screwed." I paused, and thought about what I'd just asid. A really cheesy Titantic reference popped into my head. You jump, I jump.
Wow, I'm a fucking loser.
I shook my head, Freddy looked at me, but I just kept talking.
"We have to get out of here, and we can't tell anybody we're leaving. Got it?"
Freddy just nodded. More silence…
He finally spoke. "But wait, where are we supposed to go?"
I thought about it. Best place would be a large one, that wouldn't question the motives of 2 16-year-old run-aways....Suddenly, I grinned. I got it.
"Get as much money as you can, and meet me at the train station in a half an hour. Pack clothes too. ...Freddy...we're going to New York City."