Beware of Car Makers

         I barely glanced up from my term paper as my friend Bree burst into my apartment one Wednesday night. He slammed my front door closed and pressed himself against it, panting. With the back end of the pen in my mouth, I nonchalantly looked up over my Macbook at him, my reading glasses low on the bridge of my nose.

         “What the fuck is your malfunction?” I inquired, looking back down at my Mac, absentmindedly being a web search on the Dell notebook to my right. I couldn’t care less. I had a term paper due within twenty-four hours for my advance networking class. Damn my habit of procrastination.

         The sound of drunken stumbling – it was rare Bree was sober – broke my peaceful silence. Removing my right hand from my Mac, I grabbed the oversized encyclopedia behind me and chucked it in the direction of the noisemaker. I heard the loud thud of the book hitting Bree – hopefully in the head – which was followed by the sound of him collapsing hard on my hardwood floor – I specifically chose wood for cases like this.

         Bree groaned. “What the fuck did you hit with?” he complained. He’d stopped asking why and was now merely asking with what.

         “My encyclopedia. What’s your purpose?” Seconds later – and I will never figure out how he does it – he was standing within my little circle of research material and computers.

         “Why do you have three different laptops?”

         “For homework. You’d know this if you went to class for once.” Bree blew a raspberry. “What’s your purpose?”

         “Someone’s trying to kill me.” My hands froze over their keyboards. I blinked twice and turned to my friend and just looked at him. Bree wasn’t much to look at, at least not by my standards. He was actually ordinary. He was tall, but lanky and awkward. He had shaggy, dull brown hair that reached his shoulders and weird milky brown eyes. On most days, he had this natural high look to him (like never being able to open his eyes fully); however, today he just looked wild. His clothes – stoner’s best – were rumpled and wrinkled. His hair was tangled and wind-blown. For once in his life, not only were his eyes wide open, but they were also not bloodshot. He didn’t look like he’d been drinking his life away.

         Observations aside, I took into consideration his previous statement. After a moment of thought, I burst into raucous laughter in his face.

         Someone trying to kill him. Puh-lease. Where would that get anybody?

         “Stop laughing, Lyn! I’m serious! Someone is trying to kill me!” It took me a full three minutes to stop laughing. Surprisingly, Bree waited those minutes out. When I finally stopped laughing, I noticed that he was jittery, jumping at every noise outside, ducking closer to the ground when a car backfired or some idiot set off a firecracker. I arched an eyebrow. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he was high.

         I decided to humor him. “Bree, why would someone want to kill you? You’re broke. You have no job. You freeload off the school. The chances of you actually graduating are nonexistent. You’re just another stoner undergrad. Killing you would be pointless.” Bree glared at me.

         “It’s nice to know you’ve already thought it through.” I shrugged. He continued. “But I’m serious, Lyn. I came to you because you’re the only one I can trust.” He clutched my hands in his. I arched an eyebrow. “Could you please just hear me out before you decide to send me to nuthouse?”

         “I gave up that idea years ago. If anyone was going to the nuthouse, it would be me. Now, what the hell is your issue?” He smiled at me, relieved. He sat back and sighed.

         “Okay, do you remember that biochemistry assignment from a few months ago?” I nodded. I remembered it. It was one of the few assignments he’d ever completed on time. Hell, he’d even been excited about it. I’d originally thought the apocalypse had been upon us.

         “Okay, you remember my project, right? For an alternative fuel source instead of gas and oil?” I nodded again. Where was he going with this? “Yeah, well, after some testing, it works.” I blinked owlishly.

         “It works?” I repeated.

         “It works,” he echoed.

         He obviously didn’t understand that I had no idea what he was talking about. We stared at each other in silence: him waiting for me to understand the significance of his statement, and me wondering what that had to do with someone trying to kill him.

         And then it hit me.

         My eyes widened, my chest constricted, and my heart beat sped up. No fucking way. “You mean...That’s not... How could you... You actually...” I couldn’t get out a complete sentence. The entire idea was beyond preposterous. He couldn’t! He didn’t!

         “It is possible, Lyn, and I did it!” His face scrunched into a grin and his milky brown eyes sparkled. He looked so excited now. Oh God, he was telling the truth.

         I’m pretty sure I had a panic attack. Maybe I just blacked out, but I know one thing. One moment I was staring in horror and disbelief at my friend, and the next, I’m on my back, underneath my desk with Bree shield me from the debris flying around the apartment.

         When had my home become a battlefield?

         Wood splintered and glass shattered throughout the room as – and I was so serious about this – bullets the size of tennis balls shot up my home. Bullet fragments were sent into the air as they exploded against everything they hit.

         What the fuck?

         Bree was on top of me, his body curled around mine. He was a human shield. I was squeezed curled into a little ball beneath him. I couldn’t see his face, but I could feel him shaking.

         For some reason, his being frightened scared me just a little bit more.

         “What the fuck have you gotten me into, asshole?” Bree smiled sheepishly at me.

         After several long minutes, the gunfire stopped. We listened in silence, waiting with bated breaths. When nothing happened, I shoved Bree off me and sat up.

         “I don’t know what the hell is going on,” I told him as I got to my feet, “but if you get me killed, I will haunt your ass.” A window shattered behind me, and I dropped to my knees. Bree grabbed me by my arm and dragged me from my apartment, just as another barrage of bullets came through my windows.

         Bree had us out of the building in a matter of seconds. He attempted to drag me to his car. Apparently, he didn’t notice his flat tires. I slipped from his grasp and proceeded to drag him to the alley.

         “Where are you going?”

         “Idiot, they shot out your tires.” I didn’t let him stop and look back like an idiot. I led him to the alley, and, five minutes later, we were on the road.

         “Explain, bitch,” I hissed.

         “Well, you see, what had happened was...”

         “Bitch, get to the fucking point!”

         “Fine! I created that damn fuel source and now the car industry is sending hit men after me!”

         “That makes... no type of sense.”

         “That’s what I said! Some guys out of the fucking Matrix fucking kidnapped me when I was... on my way home.” I hit the breaks hard at the red light. Bree’s head smashed against my shoulder.

         “Aw! What the fuck, man?”

         “You were at a strip club again, weren’t you?” Bree’s grumbling stopped. We sat at the stoplight in silence; he was silent from embarrassment, and I was fuming internally. That bastard promised me that he wouldn’t go to anymore strip clubs. A person could get fucking crabs just from walking into a place like that. Asshole should know that by now.

         The light turned green, and we were off again, our destination unknown as far as Bree was concerned. Bree’s arms tightened around my waist.

         “I’m sorry,” he mumbled into my shoulder. “I didn’t mean to break that promise.”

         “Your ass deserves to not only get shot, but also get AIDS.” He sighed. “What happened after they kidnapped you?”

         “They took me to some dark place and told me that if I didn’t destroy the plans for the fuel source within twenty four hours, they’d send people to kill me.”

         “What the hell is wrong with a new fuel source?”

         “Apparently, they don’t want to spend all their money trying to create an engine compatible for the new fuel source.”

         Wow. He used the word compatible. I was moderately impressed.

         “So they’re just a bunch of lazy, greedy bastards who would rather fuck over their own planet than save it.” It sounded like a question, but Bree knew that it wasn’t.

         “Pretty much.”

         “Stupid assholes.”

         “Where are we going?”

         “To the police.”

         Might as well try the government first before anything else. If they screw us over, then we’ll just go to the military.

         “No!” I jerked the bike down an empty alley before breaking halfway. I turned and stared at the idiot like he was, well, an idiot.

         “Has the weed completely fried your brain?” Bree placed his hands on my shoulder and looked me straight in the eyes.

         “The police are helping them.” And now I understood why my mother had always told me to never smoke anything.

         “Do you know how fucking stupid you sound?” Bree jumped off the bike, looking annoyed.

         “Dammit, Newlyn, just fucking listen to me for once!” I arched an eyebrow. That was probably the first time he’d ever called referred to me by my first name. Kind of made my heart flutter.

         I put the kickstand up on my bike and focused my attention onto him. “Fine, Bree, I’m listening.” He stared at me, eyes wide in shock before shaking his head and getting serious.

         “Just listen okay. First off, I wasn’t drunk, I wasn’t high, I was completely sober.” Somehow, I really doubted that, but I humored him, anyway. This wasn’t the time to ignore facts, no matter how surreal. “It was last night. I was heading out of the... strip club... when the police stopped me. I’d thought they’d found out about the stash I had in my car. Yeah well, after they shoved me into the back of their squad car, handcuffed and hooded, I realized I was screwed.” He lifted up the bunch of hair over his left eyebrow to reveal a large, bright purple bruise. My eyes widened.

         “Grotesque, right? Well, that’s what I got when I denied creating the fuel source. I have a couple more bruises, but I’m not going to show you. They offered to buy the designs for the thing, but I told them no. What am I going to do millions of dollars?” Buy all of the weed and beer he could carry. I neglected to say this out loud, but from the look on his face, Bree probably knew what I was thinking. He continued. “Money doesn’t matter anyway. I’m happy with what I have.

         “They told me that if I didn’t give up the designs by ten this morning, they’d send people to kill.” I checked my watch. It was almost twelve.

         “So they’ve been shooting at you since ten?”

         “Ten thirty, actually. I was at my mom’s when they first tried to kill me. Then I raced over here.”

         “And proceeded to get my life caught up in your drama.” I shook my head, exasperated. Why did the weird shit always follow him?

         Bree gave me one of his famous crooked smiles. “Well, if there was one person who tolerated my existence enough to help me, it would be you.” Of course it was. We’ve been friends ever since I ran over him with my car during freshman year of college. I had anger issues which I’ve managed to work out since then. He’s a great punching bag.

         I shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, then, I guess I should be touched that you think so highly of me. I suppose this is payback for running you over all those years ago.” Bree snorted.

         “It was only four years ago.”

         “Shut up. Let’s go before they find us. I don’t want to die young.”

         I didn’t even take two steps when a mild pop sounded from somewhere above us. Time just completely slowed down. The bullet slammed into my left shoulder, almost spinning me in a complete circle. My shoulder exploded in pain.  I was too surprised to really do anything.

         Before my body could finish rotating, another bullet caught me in the gut.

         I smashed into the ground, stunned.

         “Newlyn!” My vision was tinged red and black. My gut was on fire, and my shoulder was throbbing in agony. I coughed, spitting up a mixture of saliva and blood. The nerves in my legs were tingling with that all to common feeling of numbness. I could feel much of my lower body other than that tingling.

         Paralysis scared me more than death.

         My shoulder burst into absolute agony when Bree stupidly picked me up so that I was lying in h          is lap. He placed his hand onto my stomach, trying to staunch the flow of blood coming from my gut.

         “Oh God, oh God,” he freaked, pressing hard on my wound, enough to illicit a yelp from me. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! This is so my fault.”

         “Sh-shut up y-you i-idiot,” I hissed as best I could. Bree smiled at me, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears. My heart throbbed in my chest, painfully this time. He was crying for me.

         I think my heart was melting.

         Bree looked up at the building to the right of us. “Please help him! Please! Don’t let Newlyn die! It’s not his fault; it’s mine! You want those damned designs, you can have it! I don’t want it. Just please, save Newlyn!” He whimpered toward the end, clutching me tightly. I winced as my shoulder connected with his torso lightly.

         Was the sun setting already?

         I closed my eyes, inexplicably tired. “Oh God, Newlyn, stay with me. Stay with me please. Someone help! Please! Don’t let him die!”

         “Cell phone,” I spat out along with a glob of blood. Bree sobbed.

         “You know my cell phone broke days ago!” I wanted to call him a dumbass, but my breathing was labored now. It hurt to take in air. I almost wished I could stop breathing just to make the pain go away.

         I opened my eyes, instead, to glare at him for being so stupid. My throat closed as a man dressed in all black came up behind Bree, a pistol in his right hand. Bree, that stupid stoner, he didn’t even hear him until he was directly behind him. By then it was too late.

         A single shot was fired.

         The tight embrace was broken. I fell to the cold ground. Bree collapsed beside me. His milky brown eyes were glazed and unfocused, but he was still alive. For how long was unknown.

         A chuckle distracted me. “Like we were really going to leave him alive after all that trouble. Please. Kids these days are so stupid.” Something metallic hit the ground. It was probably the gun.

         Boots stomped out of the alley. Cars past us by on both ends. No one was there to hear him plead for the both of us.

         I was so tired. The pain wasn’t as bad as it had been before. I could ignore it now. I stared over at Bree. His eyes were closed now. He looked so peaceful, a complete shift from his previous paranoid state earlier. My heart twinged.

         Smiling to myself, I closed my eyes, and allowed myself to drift off to where ever my mind took me.