Fall of Hope (Book 1): Real Heroes Don't Wear Capes (18 page)

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Authors: R.M. Grace

Tags: #Horror | Dark Fantasy

BOOK: Fall of Hope (Book 1): Real Heroes Don't Wear Capes
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There's
only so many times a person can receive punches to the gut, or get
tripped over while carrying their dinner tray before they work out
how lads like this operate. The more you intensify your panic, the
more they insist on whatever unwarranted punishment they intend to
dish out. You are more likely to receive a pass for a suspended while
if you act indifferent. Indifference is not ignorance, but
communication without emotion.

When
Bobby glances at the shaded face beneath the cap, he sees the wild
eyes glaring out. An unnatural gloom surrounds them, and Bobby
realises this is not one of those days where indifference will work.

Staring
up at the guy's 5” 8 frame, the stale stench of weed wafts from
his clothes. Given his age he should know better than to waste his
life in such a manner, but Bobby cannot help pitying him.


What're
looking at, queer?”

His
mouth is wide enough for Bobby to view the gaps between his teeth and
thick plaque gathering on his sore gums. He believed only older
people who have smoked their whole lives got that, not people his
age. The stench is horrendous, and Bobby cannot hold the grimace from
claiming his face.


Nothing,”
Bobby replies.

He
attempts to manoeuvre around Toad, but a shove comes to his shoulder
to force him back in place.


My
mate's talking to you, so answer him.”

All
the years of bullying has also taught Bobby that sometimes it doesn't
matter what you do. Sometimes you can do nothing to deserve cruelty,
yet cruelty is what you get.

As
Bobby glances around at the other boys' faces, he finds it difficult
to bring himself to look at Jack. After being in the same classes as
him since they were four--running around with grazed knees and snotty
faces--it's crap knowing he cannot defend himself like the other boy
can. He does not have the physical properties Jack has, and if he
were to engage his career in football instead of letting these boys
bring him down, he could get into college. Thanks to that golden left
foot of his he could get scouted for a top team and earn thousands a
week.

He
could own twelve cars and position them all outside the huge mansion
he'd likely own somewhere in London.

Bobby
doesn't resent the boy, far from it. He tries contain the emotions he
has towards boys like him wasting their talents while trying to
sleep.

Life
isn't fair.

He
has known that fact about life since childhood. He recalls the
spelling test he lost to Matthew Thompson in Junior school after
having studied the words the day before. His father shouting at his
mother and throwing kitchen items kept him awake all night. She
reheated his dinner—at that point it had gone beyond supper—too
much and he burnt his tongue. During the test, Bobby forgot how to
spell the word that handed the spelling champion title to his rival.

Who
misspells the word “misspell”, anyway?

It
is a mystery Danny never lets him live down. Although he is not
bitter about the whole affair, he would be lying if he said it
doesn't still niggle away in the back of his mind.


Where
do you think you're going?”

He
glances back into the darkened face where Bobby can see Toad's
bloodshot eyes poking out as he grips him by his t-shirt.

Within
a beat Bobby replies, “home.”


Not
yet you're not,” he scowls as he yanks Bobby backwards toward
the other boys.


Leave
him alone, man,” Danny pipes up from behind them, breaking his
cool.

Toad
pushes Bobby into the firm chest of Josh.

Bobby
reverts his eyes from Toad to Josh and back. He can sense the panic
bubbling up from his core to the surface. He can hear the nerves on
his breath as he pushes out a complete and coherent sentence.


What
do you want?”

Toad
slips an item free from his pocket and holds up to his face—it's
a baggie filled with a white substance. “We're going to the
park, and you're going to come with us and snort this.”

Trying
to wriggle out from between the two only results in Toad's grasp
becoming tighter. As Bobby fights, his t-shirt lifts, and he cannot
help the need to pull it back down.


I
don't do drugs,” Bobby answers, feeling the blush travelling up
his neck.


Make
him do it here, I'm not being caught hanging around with the skinny
tosser,” Jack calls out. The remark lightens Toad's face, and
he releases his t-shirt, but the material remains coiled.

As
Toad fiddles with the baggie, Bobby can feel the restraint at his
back. He can sense the other boys coming around from either side to
block what they are about to do from anyone who may pass. He is aware
of Danny coming over and trying to pull one away. He believes it
could be Kelly, but his eyes fixate on the figure now standing
underneath the arm of a tree across the road.

The
patchwork colouration of faded and vivid hues bring back the figure
he saw through the window of the bus. He knows it is the same figure
like he knows his mum is crying behind her smiles.

He
gets a brief glimpse in his mind of a red tide pushing toward him and
drowning everything within reach. The vision unfolds as he stares
under the draped hood, yet all he can see is darkness despite how
light it is out here.

Did
Gage speak of something similar once before? Did I not register what
he said because
I
was so busy worrying about going into my brother's bedroom?


He
re
we go, hold still,” Toad says as he smirks. “Now stop
being a big homo, it'll only sting—”


No,
stop!” Bobby shouts as Josh grabs his jacket to hold him in
place.

Kelly
pushes Danny away as he makes his pleas for them to stop. “Just
quit it already.”


If
you don't do it, we can always do it for you,” Josh whispers
into his ear. Bobby catches a harsh whiff of beer on his breath,
making him grimace.


I'm
not doing it,” Bobby states as he pulls his head back from the
baggie Toad is slapping against his cheek. “No.”

Saying
“no” to the guy who has made him wet his pants twice is
not as liberating as he thought it would be.

As
Toad opens the bag to tip the substance—speed, or coke, he
isn't sure which—onto the curb, Bobby quits fighting. He cannot
fight them, nor can he outrun them even if he could.

It
would also be a lie to claim he hasn't at least entertained getting
high just to make his problems disappear. Then logic kicks in,
telling him it doesn't make them disappear, but disguises them for a
short time—as long as the high will allow. In the long run, it
creates more problems. Plus, there is the image of his father to
remind him what he could become if he goes down that route. And that
is not an option, no matter how terrible things get.

The
high-pitched cackle that escapes Toad's mouth forces Bobby's face to
recoil. As he does, a car pulls out from his street and away. For a
moment, the engine fills his ears, then he cripples over with a punch
to the gut. As he struggles for breath, Josh grabs him under his arm
and forces him back to his feet.

As
he glances across the road, he sees the red figure has gone.

Unimpressed
with the reaction, Toad yanks at his hair and turns him to face him.

It's
light, s
o
why can't I see his face?

Bobby's
stomach wants to curl in on itself, but the pain at his scalp is
enough to keep his body tense and upright.


Right,
it looks like we're going to have fun, boys.”

Toad
pushes Bobby's head backward, and steps into the road. He hunkers by
the curb where he spills the contents out to make a messy line.
Pocketing the remains, Toad uses his index finger to push the
substance neater both sides.


Stop
it! Come on, he didn't do anything!” Danny tries to pull the
older lad off balance as they scuffle, but Kelly only laughs at the
weak attempt.

Brushing
himself off, Toad stands almost face-to-face with him now he is in
the road. As he does, Bobby can hear the mild grinding of teeth
inside the guy's jaw.


On
your knees,” Toad demands with no emotion.


He
said no! Why aren't you listening? He doesn't want to.”

Cocking
his head, Toad ignores Danny's out of breath pleas. He smiles before
he delivers a second blow to Bobby's gut. “I said on your
knees.”


Like
you're blowing your boyfriend here,” Kelly chimes in. With his
arm outstretched, he holds Danny back as he pushes against him.
“Flaming fucking homos.”

Struggling
for breath as he buckles over, Bobby knows if he goes down that is
it. There's no way he can stop Toad overpowering him, so he forces
himself back up, ignoring the pain when he receives a boot to his
right calf.

With
his knees connecting on the pavement, he doesn't have time to gather
himself and decide how
the hell
he will get out this mess—if
he will do anything at all—when the fingers run back through
his hair and yank him down. He fights against the pressure as he
groans and mutters intangible words that can't help him now.


Come
on, make this easy on yourself and just sniff it.” Toad shoves
his face toward the substance on the curb.

He
pain at his scalp intensifies as he tries to avoid what is about to
happen. Everything around him becomes matted in a blur of grey hues
and crimson spores.

A
strong buzzing surfaces over the muffed, overlapping voices that make
no sense to him. He can hear his voice repeating in a rhythm as
though he is rehearsing a poem in his bedroom. And beyond, words
whisper in his brain which he cannot focus on. He doesn't want to
believe the voice could be his brother, but he knows it is.

A
tear slips from his eye and nestles at the corner of his lips. He can
taste its bitter secrets as his mouth twists into speech he cannot
hear over the roaring laughter. Yet, as soon as he swipes it up, all
noise ceases like the silence after a thunderclap.

The
pressure lifts from his hair. Each sound fades from his ears like
when he lifts his head from the water in the bathtub, and a blaring
horn replaces everything.


Whoa,
get a load of that.”

Bobby
glances to his left where he can see both Danny and Kelly in a
motionless stance. They drop their arms to their sides as they turn
to view the commotion behind Toad.

Getting
to his feet, Toad nudges the substance away with his foot in a hurry.
As he steps back onto the curb, he pulls Bobby upright by the
shoulder and brushes him off.


You
keep your mouth shut, do you hear me?” His warm breath comes at
his ear in a restrained, but harsh tone.

Bobby
manages a nod, but cannot conceal his confusion. Yet, as he glances
toward the car, his heart rises with spirit.

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