Rage: The Reckoning by Christopher C. Page

Author:Christopher C. Page [Page, Christopher C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-07-06T23:00:00+00:00

Twelve

Mark dreamt that he was back in the woods, only this time, he was running toward the abandoned high school instead of away from it. Randy and his goon squad were chasing him through the field in the pickup truck and the old black Cutlass he had seen yesterday. In the dream, the area surrounding the school had been an open field yet in reality it had been thick woods and a creek which Kyle had told him would lead back into town. In reality, the creek had only taken him farther and farther into the woods. Kyle was supposed to keep them all distracted while Mark got away. In reality, Mark hadn’t even made it half way across the parking lot before they came running at him from nowhere and everywhere, almost like someone had told them where he was.

In the dream, as Mark ran toward the school he saw the Boy perched up on the roof, looking down the scope of his rifle at the people pursuing him with his finger curled around the trigger. So far, though the Boy was never without his rifle, Mark had never seen or heard him fire it. It was strange, but then the whole thing was strange. He himself had never fired a rifle before so he thought maybe that was why the Boy didn’t or couldn’t. Maybe Mark’s mind had no frame of reference to draw from and therefore couldn’t create the sensation of doing something that, in reality, he had never done.

Whatever the reason, he just wished that the dream had gone on a little longer. He would have tried to will himself up onto the roof with the Boy and when Randy, his idiot friends, and that (BITCH WHORE SLUT) girlfriend of his drove up, if the Boy didn’t start shooting, Mark would have.

While the dream had ended relatively quickly, the actual event had dragged on for hours. Along the way he’d been forced to deviate around a big bunch of bushes armed with sharp thorns that seemed to jab at him from every direction, and lost his way. He continued on in what he thought was the right direction only to find himself at some kind pond or something. He tripped over the exposed root of a tree and took a spill, striking the ground so hard his glasses flew off his face, which he searched for fruitlessly for half an hour before finally giving up.

He followed the path around the pond, only to find himself walking in circles. Finally, he’d heard the sound of a passing car and veered off the path, finding civilization at last. He remembered wishing that the Boy would come to his aid and show him the way home. A few times, he thought he caught a glimpse of his red sweater through the thickening branches but it turned out to be nothing. He was never there when he needed him.

When he awoke the next morning safe in his bed, a cold breeze was blowing in through the partially open bedroom window.

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