Make Them Scream

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My ears rang like the sound of cicadas on a hot summer evening—high pitched and distorted. Everything was dark.

Pain pounded through my head. My brain pulsed against my skull in time with the blood rushing through my temples. My eyes fluttered open. The headache was so nauseating that my vision blurred like I was underwater. Foggy shapes moved around me like phantoms.

Where am I?

I could feel scratchy fabric against my back. I forced my eyes open again, and a blur of colors waved into focus. A string of purple and green Mardi Gras beads hung from a rear view mirror, swinging back and forth lazily.

I was still on the bus.

An icy gasp of wind howled into the vehicle, and a hand gripped my shoulder as a face came into view. His mouth moved, but the ringing in my ears was too loud. I couldn't make out anything he was saying.

Blinking a few more times, my vision finally cleared enough to recognize the face.

Jake.

His scruffy beard and messy mop of hair were unmistakable.

"Are you all right?" his voice came through, but it was muted and distant. "Alex, are you all right?"

I tried to answer, but pain surged through my head like a tidal wave. My mouth swelled with hot saliva.

Oh fuck . . .

In a rush of panic, I shoved Jake out of my way, pulled myself up and stumbled out of the bus. My legs gave out beneath me, and I gripped the side of the door to keep myself from falling over. I gagged, and then energy drink mixed with acid powered up my throat, bursting out of my mouth like a water balloon exploding.

"Oh my God," I groaned, grasping my head. I braced myself by the knees as I dry-heaved twice. After gagging once more, I was sick again.

My body shivered and shook as I clutched my ribs. My tongue and the roof of my mouth burned as I spat onto the ground, trying to get the bitter taste out of my mouth. Drool clung to my chin. I wiped it off on the back of my hand. Another blast of wind barreled past me, numbing the surface of my skin.

"Jesus Christ," Jake muttered next to me. "Fuck."

I panted, leaning against the bus as I tried to regain my composure. The pain in my head throbbed behind my eyes, but the vomiting had helped to dull its intensity. "I think I'm okay," I managed to say between shivered breaths.

"Alex, sit down." Jake pulled my arm, and my body immediately responded. I collapsed onto the ground, my back against the cold metal of the bus. I leaned my head back, gasping for breath.

"What's your name?" Jake asked me. I tried to focus on him, but I couldn't make out any features of his face other than his eyes—deep brown and staring at me. They glowed and flickered with a faint trace of light.

"Alex," I finally responded. I paused for a second and pushed my hair out of my face. "I mean, I can't remember who I am, but you keep calling me Alex, so I assume that's my name."

Jakes's thick eyebrows curled in confusion and concern, and I couldn't stop a grin from sneaking across my face.

"You asshole." Jake punched me in the shoulder lightly. "You're such a fucking shit."

"Alexander Pierce," I said.

"How old are you?"

"I'm twenty-two. Going to be twenty-three on the thirty first." Cold air bit at my skin. I dug my fingers into the dry dirt at my sides. My head spun. I wasn't ready to get up.