The Fan

“Shit! Oh, shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” Dale’s voice was shrill, anxious, and expedited. His breath expanded out like frosted cloud into the darkness of the wintry night. The oppressive cold seemed to attack and destroy the little heat his breath gave off. It was one of those nights that was so cold, yet so brisk, that the air felt clear, sharp, and alive. The darkness expanded forever in every direction, and it was the kind of awful darkness that, once you stepped into it, it felt like you were succumbing to a world of complete nothingness.

“Dale, calm down, alright?” Chris’ voice, in sharp contrast to Dale’s, was calm and collected. If Dale and the others weren’t so preoccupied, they might have noticed just how malignant Chris’ voice was.

“Calm down? How the fuck is he supposed to calm down? How the fuck am I supposed to calm down?” Sam’s deep and booming voice would have been frightening in any other circumstance, but now it was just disconcerting. To hear a voice like that with so much fear laced into the words, it could break a man’s heart. “How in the hell are you so damned calm, Chris?”

“Sam, relax. We all have to relax. We can’t just stand out here, in this fucking cold-ass weather, and bitch to each other. So, we need to be calm.”

“Fuck you, man!” Dale spoke up again. “How the fuck can I be calm?! Look at this! This is unbelievable! We- we’re all- we’re all fucked, man!” Dale threw his fist out into the cold night air as he finished speaking. Either sweat or tears were running down his face.

The only light in that awful dark December night was from the dim headlights of the van. The cold air swooped and swirled in the flood of light that came forth, and it illuminated the scene in such an ominous way that it only served to darken the mood, not lighten it. Hunched over in front of the left headlight was Marc, his face in his hands. From the look of his slight movements, he was crying. He let out a soft sob.

“God damn it!” Sam said. “This is total fucking bullshit! Chris, what the hell are we gonna do?” His voice seemed even more worried than before, as if Dale’s mention of being fucked had dawned him into an even deeper sense of worry.

“We are going to calm the fuck down, first of all.” Chris said. The stoic attitude in his voice would be very apparent to the others, in a different situation. “Then,” he said, “we are going to take care of this, and get the hell out of here.”

“How in God’s name do you plan on … ‘taking care’ of this?” Jessie said. He hadn’t spoke up at all since it happened, and the shakiness in his voice expressed why.

In the lull that followed, Marc sobbed again. He was rocking slowly, back and forth, while still crouched. His face was oddly illuminated by the headlight of the van, and the shadow it cast rocked eerily as he did.

Dale let out a horrified sigh. “This is seriously fucked up.” He had seemingly gone from shrill and afraid to dumbly shocked. He stared, his eyes unwavering, into the darkness of the night beyond. He began to chew on his nails furiously, a habit he always went back to when he was nervous.

“Dale, man, we’re gonna be alright. We just gotta figure out what to do, then get the hell out of here. We’ll be fine.” Sam said as he comforted Dale. Sam was Dale’s older brother, and he had always been able to take care of him. This situation, however, felt oddly inescapable to Sam, but he still did his best to calm his little brother.

“That’s right, Dale.” Chris said. His voice was soft and dark. “We’ll just take care of this and get out. No problem at all.”

“No problem at all?!” Jessie suddenly exclaimed. His voice was still shaken, and when he spoke up it sounded more scared than any of them had ever heard him. “Jesus Christ, Chris! This isn’t like we got caught stealing or some shit, man! This is serious! We could go to jail for this!”

“Jail?” Dale responded. “Jail?! I can’t go to no jail! I’m fucking fragile, man! I’m a fucking bleeder! They will fucking kill me in jail!” Dale returned to anxious and afraid. The shrill voice he commanded only sought to further the others’ worry.

“Shut the hell up, Dale.” Chris said. “Nobody’s going to jail, as long as we get this fucking situation under control.”

“That’s right Chris. Dale won’t be going to jail. None of us will, except maybe you,” Sam said as he slowly stepped in Chris’ direction.

“What the hell do you mean by that?” Chris asked. There was no worry or tension in his voice, just a calmness that felt alien to the rest of them.

“Well, you killed him!” Dale yelled. He was pointing at the body lying slumped a little ways off, just out of the light from the headlights. It was too dark to see it now, but it had been just a little lighter when it had happened, and none of them would be able to forget what he had looked like.

“I had to shoot that asshole!” Chris said, raising his voice for the first time. “He was driving me insane. That shit deserved what he got.”

Jessie spoke up. “Yeah, but now we are murderers, man! This wasn’t supposed to be like this at all. God help us.”

“Don’t you bring fucking God into this, Jessie.” Chris responded. “God had nothing to do with this. Where we are, there is no God. He has forgotten about us, and he will never remember.” Chris was staring at Jessie with a strange fire in his eyes. “So take your damn gospel bullshit and shut the fuck up about it.”

Again, Marc sobbed as he swayed back and forth on the ground. When he leaned forward far enough, you could see the blood spattering across his face, the blood from the man Chris had shot earlier. His eyes were open, staring unblinking into the distance. His teeth were chattering in the cold.

“Well, fuck all of this bullshit.” Sam said, collectively. There was still a crack in his voice, but he knew he had to be strong. “Let’s shut the hell up and do something.”

“We gotta get the body off the road.” Chris said. He indicated the forest just off the curb. “We’ll toss it into those woods. Nobody’ll find the thing for ages.

Jessie looked at him as though he were crazy. “That’s your big plan? That’s what you have come up with to do? Toss the body in the woods? We are all so fucked.” Jessie threw his hands into the air as he shook his head. “Sorry Dale, but it looks like you’re going to jail after all. This brilliant plan is sure to guarantee that.”

“Fuck!” Dale screamed. Tears started to visibly roll down his cheeks as he bit his nails harder and harder.

“Fuck that, man. Dale’s not going to jail, and neither are any of the rest of us. Except maybe Chris. You dumb shit, man! You ruined all of this! I hope you enjoy rotting in jail you murdering shitbag.”

Chris didn’t respond for a moment. Then, he looked at Sam with his head cocked to the side. “Shitbag?” He asked. “That’s the best you got, is it?” He was mocking Sam now. “I’m sorry, I don’t even know what a shitbag is. Is it a bag for shit, or a bag made of shit?”

“Goddamn it Chris, shut the fuck up!” Sam yelled. “I ain’t helping you move no damn body, that’s for sure.”

“Oh yes, Sam, you are.” Chris pulled the .45 from his coat and put it right against Sam’s temple. The metal of the gun was steaming, warm from its place in Chris’ pocket. The metal made a distinct clicking sound as he pushed the weapon into Sam’s skull. “You, and all the rest of you shits, are gonna help me move this fucking body. I ain’t the only one here with blood on my hands. This isn’t just my fault, it’s all of yours as well. And Goddamn it Marc, stop that fucking crying, you pussy!” Chris lashed out

“Leave him alone, you fucking savage.” Sam said.

“Goddamn it!” Dale yelled. “Chris, get the fucking gun away from my bother’s head you stupid shit!” Dale was thrashing his arms around in panic and frustration.

Chris looked over at Dale, but didn’t move the gun. “Go move that body, Dale. Jessie, you and the crying pussy better help out.”

“Fuck you! I ain't not moving no dead man around!” Dale said.

“You will if you don’t want me to shoot your brother’s face off, wont you?” Chris responded. He was smiling, of all things.

“Fuck!” Dale yelled. He started over towards the body slumped on the side of the road, all the while, he was chewing furiously. It was obvious Dale was more than a little anxious, because he had run out of nail and started chewing the tips of his fingers.

“Chris, what the hell are you doing, man? You’re supposed to be our friend, and this is what you’re doing? For Christ’s sake, you have a damned gun to Sam’s head.” Jessie said as he moved toward Chris. His voice was calm, reassuring. He was trying to calm Chris away from shooting someone else tonight.

“Jessie, I don’t wanna shoot none of you guys, not at all. But if you all don’t cooperate, I’m going to have to. Now, you better go help Dale before he gets himself completely soaked with blood.” Chris pointed to where Dale was wrestling with the body, that of a much taller and heavier man than himself. He was practically rolling around on top of the guy, trying to lift him. Jessie looked, and then ran off to help out.

“Man, you better get that fucking gun away from my head.” Sam said, looking Chris square in the eyes. “It’s starting to piss me off, you flexing nuts all over the place. You fucked all this shit up, and I say that means we don’t have to listen to you anymore.”

Chris just shook his head. “Sam, that is no way to talk to someone with a gun pointed at your brain. Your life is in my hands right now, so I think you should be a little nicer to me.” Chris paused only for a second. “Or I will blow your fucking brains out, you understand?” No matter how much bigger Sam was than Chris, there was something about him that made Sam feel like he better just do what he was told. The truth of the matter was, Chris was scaring the hell out of him. “Now,” Chris started, “You better go help those two dumbshits move that body.” He shoved at Sam’s temple with the gun, hard enough to cause considerable pain to such a sensitive spot on the head. Sam gave him one last look, then moved off to help the others.

There was a sound then, the low hum of an engine far in the distance. Nobody seemed to notice it right away, not until the car was too close to do anything. It moved past at a reduced speed, the headlights splashing light across the road. The car began to slow down, and Chris noticed the driver’s window coming down.

“Hey, you guys need any-” the driver started to say.

“Get the fuck out of here!” Chris yelled, waving the gun around.

The car’s engine suddenly revved and sped off, the driver going probably as fast as he could. In a moment, the car turned a corner and its sound and light was lost. The world once again became dark and silent.

Marc was still slouched, head in his hands, crying and swaying in front of the light. Chris took a step over towards him, stepping in front of one of the headlights and casting a strange shadow of his legs over the abandoned road. The night was absolutely silent, save the grunts and groans of those moving the body and Marc’s incessant sobbing.

“Marc.” Chris said, his voice calm but terrible, “You better stop your fucking crying right now.”

Marc didn’t respond in any way, didn’t speak or even look at Chris. He simply continued to cry and sway.

“Marc, listen to me.” Chris said, looking down at him. “If you don’t shut the fuck up right now, I will have to shut you up, understand? I don’t want to listen to you cry anymore, you pathetic little shit.” Still, Chris got no response except another sob. “Get up!” Chris suddenly yelled. The others, in the bushes farther off now, turned to look. “Get the fuck up you whiny little fucker!” Chris was hauling on one of Marc’s arms, but Marc continued to sob. He was in the truest state of shock of all of them. “Get up, right now! Stop the fucking crying! Up! Stop! Get up! Shut up!” Chris was yelling as loud as he could, right in Marc’s face. Finally, Marc looked up at him.

“You got blood on my face.” Marc said. His voice was a whisper, a terrified breath of speech. “You fucking murderer, you got blood on my face.” He immediately went back to sobbing.

Chris took a step back, and the others in the bushes went back to trying to get the body as far into the woods as they could. Chris, in a shaken rage, put the gun up to the side of Marc’s head and pulled the trigger.

That gunshot was the second that rang out that night, and the second that got blood all over Marc’s face. But this time, it was his own blood. His head flung towards the van and banged loudly against the front grill before his body slumped over, eventually lying slightly under the bumper. Blood and pieces of bone and flesh spattered all over the hood of the van and especially on the headlight. The shadow that was cast on the road was no longer Marc’s head, but splatters of blood that gave the light a strange reddish glow. Chris took a step back and noticed the blood all over his hand, then noticed it all over his jacket and pants.

At that moment, Sam tackled him and brought his body down against the rough pavement. The impact sent the gun flying from his hands, and his head crashed against the pavement hard, sending stars into his eyes. His eyes rolled as he tried to focus on the hulking man that was holding him down. Chris watched as Sam brought his fist back and punched him hard, and square, in the face. His head jerked back and smacked against the pavement again. He felt the warm trickle of blood down from his nose and around his mouth. Sam punched him again, hard, and it sent Chris’ mind whirling. He could barely make out Jessie’s voice as he called Sam off. The weight was lifted from him, and he tried to focus on the area around him.

Sam walked off, blood on his sore fist, to find the .45 that had landed some distance away. Jessie was standing over Chris, staring at him, disgust in his eyes. Dale was holding Marc’s motionless body, getting blood all over himself, as he cried desperately. There was blood around his mouth, presumably where he had chewed his fingers to the point of bleeding.

“God- damn it!” Jessie screamed. “Chris, this was supposed to be a fucking kidnapping! Now you’ve killed not only our hostage, but Marc?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He kicked Chris in the ribs as hard as he could, and Chris rolled to his side and spit blood. “And that fucking car that came by? What the fuck were you thinking yelling at them to fuck off? They have probably called the fucking cops by now you stupid asshole!”

“F- Fuck you, Jessie.” Chris coughed out. “You gonna kill me now, or what?”

“We are all gonna get murder for this, probably double homicide, because of you, Chris.” Sam breathed as he walked back over. “So, no. We aren’t going to kill you. If I have to rot in jail, so do you, you son-of-a-bitch.”

Dale was now the one rocking back and forth, Marc in his arms, as he wailed, “Oh God,” over and over again. The bloody red shadow on the road eerily danced along with him. Jessie walked over to him and crouched down.

Chris lie on the black asphalt, the cold seeping through his clothing and piercing his back with it’s icy touch. He felt dizzy from the blows he had taken, but he also felt angry for the actions of his so-called friends. He was glad to have silenced Marc, that incessant sobbing had been driving him mad. Now, however, there were the loud and wailing outbursts of Dale, and that was starting to irritate him as well.

Sam returned with the .45 tucked into his belt. He heaved Chris up onto his feet in such a fast motion that Chris suddenly returned to an intense feeling of dizziness, and he immediately threw up all over the road.

“Aw, fuck, man.” Sam said, as he shoved Chris a little. “What’s the matter? Lost your place as leader of this bullshit fucking operation, and now you are gettin’ all sick on me?”

At that exact moment, the sound of the sirens came to all of their ears at once. As if to compliment the new erratic sound, Dale’s wailing intensified.

“Oh, fuck!” Jessie exclaimed.

“Get everything into the fucking van!” Sam yelled

“Shit’s hittin’ the fan now,” Chris said.

Because Sam and Jessie were the only ones really capable of getting anything done, the pair immediately began to frantically try and vacate the scene. They hauled Chris and threw him into the vast open space in the back of the van, then threw Marc’s body in next to him for company. Dale hobbled into a back seat, crying and sobbing and wailing as Sam helped him along. Jessie climbed into the driver’s seat, slamming the door, and Sam followed suit into the passenger seat. All the while, the sirens got louder. Blue and red lights, swirling about, were seen coming around the corner ahead of them.

“That everything?” Jessie asked, out of breath.

“I fucking hope so.” Sam said. “Let’s get out of here.”

Another police car crested the hill behind them, its siren blaring and its lights frantically flashing. The once docile dark scene exploded in a rush of color.

Jessie went to start the van, but for whatever reason the engine didn’t turn on his first attempt. The sound of the battery giving off charge and the engine trying to catch was the most horrifying thing Jessie had ever heard, and he felt his heart racing so fast he thought he might have a heart attack.

In the back, Chris began to laugh.

“What the fuck is so goddamned funny?” Sam yelled. The police cars were getting close; faint flashes of color were appearing on his face.

Chris looked at them from the back. “Don’t you remember why we stopped out here in the first place?”

Jessie's mind flooded. “Oh, oh God, oh no. Oh fucking no.” He felt his heart racing in his chest. Dale was wailing as loud as ever, piercing their ears with his sobs.

“The fucking van broke down.”