Exterminators Infected (The Exterminators Book 1) (19 page)

He grabbed his bottle of rum and took a sip. It burned. The same burn that attacked his soul every single day. He coughed after the rum went down then took a sip of his coke. He figured if he drank a regular drink with alcohol he wouldn't be considered an alcoholic. He knew how silly it sounded but it was a way to appease his mind. To try to find a balance to please and yet also trick himself.
He looked down at his hand and saw the scar. It started at his middle finger up to his shoulder. It was the biggest mistake he made. The mistake that lead to a war. The idea of forgiveness. Of letting things slide. It was almost completely out of his mind these days. To trust was hard enough, to forgive was damn near impossible. He set barriers up in his mind so he could follow those rules. By nature he trusted many, but by betrayal he knew better. He clinched his fist, looked away from the scar, and closed his eyes as he laid back on his bed.

He could feel the drink doing work on his mind and body. It began making him feel loose again. It was the only reason he drank. To feel calm and loose instead of building up past memories. Yet, he knew the real reason was to forget. Nobody wants to admit that the past, that eventually the past will come for the present. The past makes you what you are today. Carl hated that so he drank to try and forget. Yet the demons spoke to him when he was drunk enough. There was no way to win in the internal mind wars.
Peter sat down, exhausted. He held his shirt out. The whole left side was ripped off. He laughed and smacked the floor. “That was freaking great!”

“You turn into a completely different guy in fights,” Jin said seriously, sitting down next to him. “You become...happier. It's odd. I have never seen you so upbeat and happy.” Peter shrugged, still smiling brightly.

“I feel alive when I'm in a fight. I feel like I can become stronger. I feel like...” he was trying to find words to continue. He felt so many things in the fight that he never felt before in his life. It was like his real-self came out.

“You feel like you can prove you're something.” Peter looked up, surprised. “You feel like when you fight you have power that otherwise isn't ever shown. You feel like this is the real you. You feel like the power you hold is something no one can match. Yet you can never reveal this self because of the rules. You hold this power and yet no one can see. So you bottle the emotions up to the point where you don't feel, yet when you fight you can let those emotions run wild. Something like that?” Jin watched Peter for a response.

Peter couldn't respond though. He knew every word Jin just told him was how he felt. He bottled so much up inside that he didn't have anything to show on the outside. All the emotions he had hidden, all the awkward situations, thanks to his upbringing, all his hatred he couldn't spew was because he didn't have the power. He had the strength now though. He had the power to show off yet no one could see it except his unit. He wanted to show the world yet he knew he'd never be able to. He felt like this was the most unfair aspect of the entire organization.

“I think you're right,” was all Peter could mutter.

“It's okay. I've felt the same way at times. Always growing up in situations I couldn't control. People helped me get to where I am now. They trained me to harness those feelings and use them. I think I've come a long way.” Jin said, smiling.

“Can you show me how to let these emotions out?” Peter never asked for help. He couldn't help but to ask Jin anyway.

Jin watched him for a moment. Surprised that he'd even ask for support. Sociopaths usually kept almost all their emotions bottled up or lacked any, in the first place. However, the more interaction Peter got the easier it was for him to show those emotions. It seemed the only time he showed those emotions was in fights. The violent nature is what made Jin think twice. Yet, he felt he could keep him in check, if he’d be careful.

“I think I can help.” Jin patted Peter on the back. “Let's head home for today and we'll work on it.”

Peter got up alongside Jin. “All right, thank you.” Peter said extremely sincerely. Yet Jin sometimes had to question if it was real or an act. He let the benefit of doubt take over.

Nick returned home late. Pushing the door open around 11 o'clock. He announced to the house he was home. His father popped his head out of the living room. “You almost didn't make it home for curfew.”

“Sorry pops was just doing some exercise.” Nick could feel every bone in his body ache. He'd been training so much lately he almost never gave himself a chance to rest. He was pushing his body to its limits. His muscles grew but what did it matter if he was always tired? He felt conflicted with how much he trained but he never wanted to be in danger in a fight again. So he pushed himself as far as his body let him go.

“I'm glad you're working out. It's great, especially at your age. Forming your body. Yet don't push yourself too far. It'll eventually backfire on you.” His dad pointed out as he was going through his book. He was figuring out floor plan blueprints for one of his jobs.
“I know pops.” Nick opened the fridge and grabbed a drink. He collapse in the seat next to his father. “Hey pops, I think we should go away somewhere this summer,” Nick said suddenly. He felt like getting away from everything for a while would be nice.

His father looked up from his book. “Where were you thinking of going?”

“I dunno, maybe Pennsylvania? I just want to get away from the city for a while after school. I know you're busy though so...” he began but his father waved his hand dismissively.
“That's the thing about being the boss. You have managers under you that can handle it. I think that sounds amazing.” His dad's smiled was too big for his face right now. Nick couldn't help but laugh and smile back. He felt great talking to his father one on one. To go somewhere away from all the training and fighting to spend quality time with family would be the best thing in the world.

“Thanks pops. I just figured it be nice to get away.”

“I think so too. We can go fishing, do a little camping, just like old times.”

“Yeah, like when we went there with mom and stuff,” Nick's voice trailed off. He didn't like to mention his mom much, it brought up strong feelings.

“Yeah,” his father answered quietly.

“She'd be proud of you.”

His father looked up at his son. The words hit him hard like a bag of concrete. He felt goose bumps throughout his entire body. He hadn't heard his son speak about his mother in months now. He wasn't sure how to answer.

“You've done nothing but taken care of me. You work so hard to support me. You raised me alone the last year and you've done a great job.” He looked up at his father. He could feel his eyes becoming watery. He could feel his body using the last of the energy he had for the night. “So I think she'd be very proud of you. I'm proud of you.”

His father didn't even notice the tears falling down his face. He felt his heart warming; the feeling of being told by your own son that he was proud of you was amazing. He stood up and grabbed his son, hugging him tightly. He let his tears drop and could feel his shoulder getting wet. Nick was crying along with him. “Sometimes I forget how old you’re getting,” his father said sniffling. He couldn't love his son any more than he did at this moment. He held him tightly letting the tears continue to flow.
Peter shut the door behind him. His drunken father was in the hallway, trying to get his shoes on. “Hey you little brat, where you've been?” he said laughing. Peter tried his best to ignore him as he walked past. His father got angry and reached for him.
He grabbed Peter by the collar and turned him around. “Don't you ever walk away from me,” he spat all over Peter's face. Peter pushed his father’s hand off and tried to walk away again. His father's temper flared up and he struck Peter in the face. The pain wasn't awful. Peter had suffered a lot worse in the past few months, yet it hurt so much. To be hit by your own father was disgusting. He already knew his father was capable of doing just that.

“I'm going to bed.” Peter held his cheek as he walked away.

“Don't walk away from me, you brat!” He roared as he grabbed Peter again. Peter wanted to form his elemental glove and shoot a fireball into his father's mouth to shut him up so he couldn't speak. He had the power to do it. Instead, he let his father grab him, twirl him around, and slam his fist into his gut. From his training, Peter was already weak, so the punch hurt way worse than it would have normally. Peter fell to the ground wincing. He could feel the spit in his mouth dripping out.

“That's right, you little creep!” his father slurred as he slammed his leg into Peter's side. Peter slammed his back into the wall; he could feel the pain soaring up through his whole body. His father gave him another punch to the face. This time it hit his nose real hard. Peter instantly tasted the blood dripping from it. “You don't ever walk away from me when I'm speaking to you!” his father shouted.

His father opened the door and looked back. “Just lay there and think what you've done. You hurt my hand you little bastard. So just sit there and think about it.” Then the door slammed behind him. Peter could hear him shouting as he went down the stairs.

Peter rolled to his side. He could feel his bloody nose dripping all over the floor. He felt the pain in his gut. There was a sharper pain coming from his side where the kick landed. He screamed in a rage he never knew he had. He yelled so loudly, both his mom and sister came out of their rooms. He slammed his fist on the floor, tears dripping from his eyes. He yelled and slammed his fist down repeatedly. His mother ran over but he pushed her away. His sister stayed in her doorway, too scared to come out of her room. He calmed down after a moment and just sat there. Pain resonated all over his body. Yet for the first time he felt a pain in his heart. He hadn't felt rage like this ever, and now it was awakened like a vengeful monster.

Chapter 20 – Merry Christmas
Nick pushed the doors open from school. “Free!” he shouted. Another month had past and it was snowing in the great NYC. School had just let out for winter vacation. The kids flooded out as if every second of freedom was precious. Nick turned around and saw Fred, Marshall, and Peter walking out behind him.

“Later bro,” Marshall said giving another boy a fist pump before heading over to Nick. “Yo, whatsup my man.”

“Not much, glad to be on vacation.” Nick laughed. He'd have the next few weeks’ school free to relax. He planned on taking this time to rest his body from training as well. The Callers hadn't called any of them on missions since the beginning of November. It was odd but the boys strangely liked it. All except for Peter.
“Any missions yet?” Peter asked, eagerness in his voice, as he approached the boys.

“Dude, just chill and enjoy some free time.” Marshall chipped in.
“I want to hunt. Not sit around and do nothing.”
“What you need is to get a girl.”
Peter waved dismissively at Marshall and glanced at the kids leaving the school. Fred was the last to catch up to the group. He pulled his pants up again as they sagged down. He hadn't had a chance to pick up new clothes since the weight loss started. He was now an entire four sizes down and feeling amazing. His clothes just kept sliding off of him though.

“What's everyone's plan for Christmas?” Fred asked.

“My dad and I are going to Kelly's house to eat,” Nick answered, watching the snow fall on him. It felt great to have that slight cold touch on his face and then melt away.

“Nothing,” replied Peter in a monotone response. He wanted a fight more than celebrating a holiday he cared less about.
“Well, unlike Mr. Grumpy over here, I think I'll have a nice Christmas dinner. Lucy and I will probably go out and eat somewhere,” Marshall finished.

“Hey, Pete would you like to come over for dinner? I'm not doing anything,” Fred asked. He was trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. He was used to spending dinner alone for most holidays, yet he wanted to be close to some type of family this Christmas. The boys had become the closest thing to family that he had, as of late.

“Fine. If any of you get a mission though I want to know.” Peter walked away from the group. He was so set on fighting he lost sight of anything else. He kept his head low and walked towards his home. The same home where his father beat him down to the ground a month ago. The same home where he built up an emotion called rage. The same home he couldn't stand to be in.

“Well don't know what that loser’s problem is but why don't you come with us?” Marshall asked Fred.
“I'm not going to be a third wheel. No, thanks,” Fred chuckled. Sadness could be heard if he spoke any louder.

“Dude, come on. You're one of my best friends. Come. Plus you kicked my butt in Halo the other night. So come on I owe you a dinner. Lucy will be okay with it.”

“I just told Peter he could come.”

“Loser will get over it. He's been all serious lately anyway.”

“He's always been serious,” Nick pointed out.
“Exactly! So he won't care. Just come with us. It'll be fun.” Marshall sounded excited. He hadn't had a chance to hang out with anyone and with Lucy. He wanted to show her off to them. Not because he wanted to prove anything, just to show her off because he enjoyed her company and wanted to share it.
“All right, I guess. I'll text Peter and let him know. Thanks,” Fred said and then began walking the other way. “I'ma head home, I'll see you in a few days.” He waved goodbye while walking down the block.
“I'm going to Lucy's so I'll hit you up later man.” Marshall gave Nick a handshake and was on his way. Nick turned towards his house and began walking. The holiday season was about to begin and already so many plans were in the air.

Jin sat down in Carl's office and rested his legs on top of Carl's desk. Carl gave him a look, one that would scare off most people, and he immediately put his feet back on the floor. “So the kids are doing real well. I'm worried about Peter though. He seems...different.”

“I noticed,” Carl muttered as he was looking through files.

Jin waited for more but nothing came out of Carl's mouth. “So-” he began waiting for Carl to say something. “-do we just ignore it? He seems really down as of late, more than he usually is. Something isn't right.”

“I know. I just don't have time to investigate right now.”

“Investigate?” Jin sounded annoyed.

“Yeah, I can't just drop this stuff. Activity with the Unknowns has been odd. The Callers haven't been as active as usual. Something isn't right.”

“I get that. You're student is phasing out though. Did you see those marks on his face awhile back? He looked like he'd been in a fight with a Jackle.” Carl ignored him. “Listen Carl, I don't mean to intervene...”

“Then stay out of it!” Carl slammed his fist on the desk. “I can't do everything, and your nagging isn't helping.” Carl was infuriated, his face bright red. All the anger he'd been holding in was taking effect. Just on the wrong person.

“Whoa, calm down,” Jin said, putting up his hands. “I'm just suggesting we figure out what's wrong with him. No need to jump down my throat.”

“Just back off. I'm trying to get this stuff fixed, they lost four Exterminators last month in Florida, and everything is falling apart. I can't focus on problems my students are going through every minute. They have to learn to grow up and take care of themselves.”
“How can they grow up if they have no guidance!?” Jin was now shouting back. Carl felt like leaping over the desk and grasping his friend by his collar. “You sit here doing all this work for other people, do your own damn work! You're falling into a deep dark spot again. I can smell the drinks on your breath.”

Carl fist curled up. “That's none of your business.”

“It is my business when you put these kids’ lives on the line. If you don't like what I'm saying do something about it!” Jin stood up, flinging back the chair as he did. “I'm sick and tired of watching you wallow in the past while trying to stick your nose in other people's work just to keep yourself preoccupied. They've been here over three months and you haven't even tried one on one training with any of them. It's time to step up as a Bora.” Jin began storming out of the room.

Carl wanted to scream. He wanted to tell Jin to watch his mouth. To stay out of his business. To tell him he didn't know what he was talking about. Yet, everything Jin said rang true in his mind. He'd been swallowing so much work that he barely had time to breath. He kept thinking about the past and focused on other people's work to keep those memories away. He completely ignored his obligations as a Bora. As a leader to these kids.

“Jin,” he said calmly. Jin turned around, waiting. “You're right. I'm sorry. Sit down.” Jin waited a moment before grabbing the chair. He sat down again and waited for Carl to continue. “We gotta figure this out together. So, what do you know about Peter?”
It took a second for Jin to settle down. Once he did he began talking again. “Peter came in with a big mark on his face. Like he was hit. He'd never even been hurt in battle. It was odd.” Carl nodded. “I think something’s going on at school. It could even be a home issue.”

Carl grabbed a piece of paper tightly. Jin saw that and looked back at Carl. “Home abuse? Are you sure?”

“I'm not. It's why I think we should find out. If it is, we can't let it continue.”

“Not again,” he muttered. Jin’s face showed confusion but Carl continued. “Well, keep tabs on him. Let me know. Do not do anything yourself. Once we figure this out, we'll handle it together. Got it?”

“Yeah,” Jin said unsure. He wasn't sure Carl was in a stable mind to handle domestic abuse. If it was bullying Jin felt he could handle it himself. If it wasn't, he wasn't sure what he would do. Going to Carl, though, didn't seem like a very reliable option.

Christmas day had arrived. Days went by like nothing when the boys rested. Marshall and Nick spent most of their time with their lovers. They walked around the city, explored the parks, hung around the movies. The time together felt great. Where as Fred mostly played video games, catching up on his backlog. Peter kept his rigorous training routine. Not letting even a day pass without him taking advantage of the extra time. He kept his distance from his bloodthirsty father, not sure what his father might do to him in another confrontation. Or, what he would do to his father. He focused on creating elemental gloves repeatedly. He was determined to stick to one type of weapon and master it.
Nick strolled to his father’s room to check in on him. Nick watched as his dad put on his tie, shifting his shirt around to get it looking right. “Looking sharp, pops,” Nick complimented. His father fixed his shirt straight, picked his tie up and laid it back down over his chest. He turned around from the mirror and pointed to himself, as if to ask Nick once more how he looked. “Yeah pops, you got some style. You're good,” Nick said laughing.

“Not too bad yourself,” his father said as he started slipping his belt on.

Nick wore a dark blue vest over his button down. He had on nice slacks, with a belt he was given by his mother on his 14
th
birthday. It was something special to him, even if it was just a normal-looking belt. He also cut his hair, making it a lot shorter. He didn't mind the change, as long as he could still slick it back. Kelly was a huge fan of it. Nick felt that if it pleased Kelly it made him happy as well.

“So, like I said, her family is a bit off. Just her father really. He sees things oddly but her mother is pretty nice.” Nick tried to calm his father. His father never really wanted to meet the parents of his son’s girlfriend but he didn't have a choice. He promised to show up to the Christmas dinner. Despite arguing about it with Nick for hours.

“I trust you son. I'm still going to worry, though. You know I don't like these types of things.”

“I know pops, but it'll go fine. I'm there as well as Kelly. Just talk to us if you get bored. The father will probably talk about weird stuff as always and you can just zone out.”

“I won't zone out.”

“Trust me pops-” Nick slipped his shoes on. “-you'll zone out. I zone out. Kelly zones out. His own wife zones out. He can talk.”

His father slipped his own shoes on. “Great, just what I wanted to hear.”

“I like the pun,” Nick said laughing.

“Yeah, too bad it wasn't one,” his father said, leaving the bedroom.

Fred touched the white walls. He could feel them changing. They were becoming more hollow. He felt like if he put any pressure on a punch he could break it to pieces. He knew the inside room voice didn't like that, though. Just the thought of breaking the walls scared the voice. Fred wanted to see what would happen but he couldn't. He let himself move back from the wall and looked around the empty room.

He always felt lonely growing up. With the exception of being friends with Marshall he never had anyone to count on as a friend. He stayed in the shadows, skating by classes, wondering what his future held. He wasn't sure how to even adjust to unfamiliar situations. He never had a job, he never needed one. His family was so wealthy he'd be fine for the rest of his life. He wasn't a bad kid, he wasn't a crazy one. He was a blank slate, though. He had no memories from high school that were memorable. He mostly remembered video games he'd played over anything that occurred in school. So, as he stood in the white room, his lonely feelings he had bottled up crept in.
“Why don't you rest?”

“Okay, seriously, you sound like a damn broken record now.” He flung his hand in the air and brushed it away. Trying to scare the voice away like a mouse.

“You keep fighting me. Why? When all I'm doing is helping you. No one helps you like I do,” the voice sounded deeper this time. Such a slight change but a change none-the-less.

“You really have to leave me alone now.” Fred walked over to the wall. He felt like punching it dead center. He felt like breaking down the walls. Breaking down the chains. Breaking it all down to finally burst free from the pain and suffering. Would punching the walls do that? He wasn't sure, but he was will to discover if it would now.

“You must stop.” The voice was rising. Every time he went closer to the walls the voice grew louder. He could sense the voice was getting nervous. Was the voice worried it would be unleashed and it couldn't keep him in anymore? That's what Fred had to find out.

“You know what? I need to know what you're all about.” Fed drew his fist back.

“DO NOT DO THAT!” It roared. The voice was darker than it had ever been. Its scream was so loud that it made him jump back. “You will not destroy what I have built.”

“Sorry, voice in my head, but you don't get a say in this.” Fred began walking towards the wall, ready to finally break them down. Before he could reach them though he awoke on his couch to a knocking at the door. He grunted, slamming his fist into the soft pillow. There was another knock and he bit his lip. He was sweating like crazy and in no condition to go out. He slowly got up, feeling the pain sear through him. He tried ignoring the pain and opened the door anyway. Marshall and his lovely girlfriend Lucy were standing there. She waved at him smiling, Marshall looked at him oddly.

“Dude, you run a mile or something?”