My Feral

6

Slit and Max were drunk. Or, rather, Slit showed up at Max's apartment completely sloshed, and when he started talking, Max started drinking.

Sitting out on the back porch, watching the waist-high grass moving with the harsh winds of Autumn, Slit let out a long sigh before looking over at Max through heavy-lidded eyes, saying, "I killed him. But, you already knew that."

Max nodded, taking another sip of beer and rubbing his bum knee.

"Can't say that I blame you, Joe was a bastard sonuvabitch."

God, two years had already passed, and his damn knee was still giving him grief.

Maybe it would have been best if he had just went with his wife and baby girl, Max thought.

Slit pulled him out of the painful thoughts by saying, "I just couldn't let it go, ya know? Not after what he did to Nux's face. I mean, when it happened, Nux was just a pup. He didn't understand what the belt meant and why Joe would lock us in the closet for days at a time."

"Then I come home from school or whatever, and Nux is curled up on the porch, hands covering his face. He wasn't even crying, just shaking and making this horrible moaning sound. So, I picked him up and pulled away his hands. God, it was horrible. His mouth was a mess of ragged skin and blood. See, Joe had gotten shit-faced, grabbed Nux, and cut the boy's mouth like a skeleton's."

"That was the last straw. I could handle the abuse. I could handle the belt lashings and the kicks and punches. But, Nux, he was only ten, and already just skin and bones. Joe would have ended up killing him. And I wasn't going to let that happen."

Slit paused, breathing raggedly, and took a long pull from his own beer.

"I got us out of there that night, spirited us away into the darkness. Then, once I had gotten Nux settled in a safe place, I went back to that bastard's house, and, using a kitchen knife, I cut the brake lines in Joe's car. It was beautiful. I felt this wave of anger and freedom wash over me. I saw only red. And I tasted it, too. Touching my face, I felt the deep gashes I had carved into either side of my mouth. I laughed, then. Long and loud, before escaping into the night."

Not knowing what else to do, Max reached over and put a tentative hand on Slit's shoulder, giving it a squeeze and feeling the knotted cords of muscle under his fingers.

Slit looked at Max, cracking a tired grin before continuing, "Joe died the next morning. The police came to get Nux and I, took us to the hospital where the bastard's body was. Some nice nurses fixed up our faces, then a doctor came and asked me what I wanted done with the body. I told the doctor to burn it and then flush the ashes. The doc laughed, but quickly stopped when he realized I was serious."

"Nux and I were left alone for a few hours after that. The poor kid slept hard, and didn't even wake up when the police came back to question me. They suspected foul-play, meaning I was their prime target, but the problem was, there were no prints on the car. So, I got off with absolutely nothing on my record. I would have told the truth, if prompted, but Joe wasn't worth going to prison over."

The two young men lapsed into silence, neither knowing what else to say.