Chapter 2

“We need to wait for Matt,” Philip had already shifted the gear to reverse when Cesar's voice

stopped him halfway through his actions. He groaned.

“We never should have never come here,” he replied. He didn't need to elaborate, he knew he

was referring to Matt. Cesar knew how much Matt made him uncomfortable. He knew Matt was

more trouble than it was worth. But, for whatever reason, he was still convinced there was

something good in the blasted kid. Philip couldn't be bothered if he was Jesus fricking Christ,

Matt was a horrible person.

“You just need to give him a chance, Y'know, warm up to him.”

“His face can warm up to the soles of my shoes when we're out of here.” Philip stared out of his

window and at the mouth of the cave. The surrounding silence in the forest shattered as his fist

made contact with the steering wheel, he honked a few more times to get Matt's attention. What

the hell was he doing in there? A few seconds later, he jogged out of the cave, struggling to zip

up his trousers. Philip groaned for the umpteenth time, while Cesar chuckled. The back door

opened and Matt hoped in.

“Sorry guys, I couldn't hold it much longer. Besides, who hasn't always wanted to pee on a

goddess' tits?”

“Yes Matthew, everyone must be dying to follow in your inconsequential footsteps,” Philip let the

sarcasm drip like poison nectar.

“Shouldn't you be focused on driving to safety? Something in the shadows might be out to get

you.”

“You little piece of—”

“Both of you behave! Enough bickering for one night, we need to get Jude home.”

“Sure, as long Phil here starts taking it easy. You might give yourself a hernia, buddy.”

“And you might get left in the middle of nowhere at three a.m buddy.”

“Can you both behave like the adults that you are for twenty minutes! You can continue hating

each other later,” Cesar yelled. His fingers were rubbing small circles into his temples.

Philip took that as his cue to shut up, he had known Cesar long enough to know that it took very

little to upset him. In fact, when they had first met, Philip had hit him square in the face. It was

an accident of course, the blow was meant for another little boy who had been picking on him

for being too thin on their first day of grade school, but maybe by some gross miscalculation on Philip's part or perhaps the other boy's much better reflexes, he had hit Cesar who had just

been standing idly by watching the altercation. Cesar, unlike most children his age, and to the

utter confusion and surprise of the other kids, started laughing. He picked himself off the floor,

still wracked by fits of giggles, and said with utter delight in his eyes;

“You need to work on your aim, now try that again but aim properly.”

Philip at the time hadn't really thought it through before he did as told and threw a better and

much more calculated punch at the unsuspecting little boy. They were both made to sit in a

corner, away from the rest of the class, but by the end of the day, Philip had contracted that

contagious laughing fit.

Philip glanced at Cesar, whose overgrown dirt brown hair fell over the side of his face as he

stared out of the window at the dwindling trees and the clustered dots of lights coming from the

approaching town, blocking Philip's view from his face; he couldn't tell if he was still upset. He

could feel his grip on the steering wheel relax slightly as the thought of being a few miles closer

to the safety and comfort of his home calmed him.

“Gu…guys, stop the car! Stop the car!”

“What?” Philip stared into the rearview mirror and wished he hadn't. Something was wrong with

Jude, terribly wrong. They could hear his bones popping and cracking as his left arm bent in an

odd angle. Philip's body moved before his brain could process what his eyes were seeing. His

foot slammed into the break as Jude's screams rend the air.

“Wha… What do we do?”

“We need to get him to a hospital!”

“We need to calm him down first,” Philip said. By now, he was already at the back of the vehicle,

pulling Jude curled up form out of the car.

“Guys, some… something's wrong” Matt whispered. He was staring at Jude's body in growing

horror. Philip might have asked him to shut up if they weren't staring at the same thing. He was

writhing and thrashing so hard that they had to let go because couldn't hold him any longer. The

blood ran from every face as he twitched on the floor, skin bubbling and bones transforming.

Jude's eyes shot open, he stared up at them with bloodshot eyes, his once brown irises had got

lighter, like all the melanin had bled into the whites and turned them red. He exclaimed painfully

as his back arched. There was blood, so much blood, as parts of his skin got ripped open to

make way for his bones which forced their way out at odd angles. Jude screamed again.

“Starving.” Philip could barely make out the word from the guttural sound coming from Jude, or

process it quick enough.

“Something's wrong, Phil,” Cesar said after a few moments. “Get in the car now!

Philip could barely register what transpired in the following moments. Cesar shoved him into

the back seat, hoped in the driver's seat and floored it. From his the back window he saw Jude,

or whatever he had become, had getting up from the floor and grabbed onto a screaming Matt.

Cesar groaned and then slumped on the steering wheel, and for a moment Philip thought he

had died from the fright—until he heard that sickening sound of crunching bones and Cesar's

screams.

“Oh god, not you too!"

Philip would have loved to say he saw his life flash before his eyes as their car moved at 50

miles per hour with an incapacitated driver. But his life wasn't so great that it was worth

remembering and he was too distracted by the sound of his screams and the feeling of his

bones shattering and realigning that all other thought had been drowned out except one;

He needed a frickin smoke.