“Fuck I’m cold.”
Icely sat shivering in his car. He had pulled off the highway and onto a turnoff reserved solely for emergency vehicles. He was hidden from only the most prying of eyes where he had parked.
“You cold, too?” he asked the still and lifeless form of Schools. At some point he had stopped to strap the man in position after he had slouched down again.
“You’re not cold? You look like you’re freezing, man.” Icely said.
Fat beads of sweat were running off of Icely’s brow as he shook throughout the night. His rest had been fitful, and more than once he had cried out while he slept. Schools though had kept a constant vigil and Icely thanked him for it when the sun crept up.
“You’re a good friend.” Icely clapped the man on the shoulder before he stepped out. “Fucking birds are chirping, crickets are making cricket noises, I think I saw a rabbit. It’s like a Disney movie out here. Want a smoke?” Icely asked Schools. “Sun feels good…a little too hot though.” His body went from shivering a few moments previous to sweating profusely.
Icely’s head was hanging low; drops of mucous coming from his nose. He would occasionally wipe those away. It was the sticky sensation on the back of his neck that he found the most disturbing; more than once he had reached back there and rubbed, the hand coming back covered in an oozing, viscous, gel-like fluid.
“Got an infection. The fucking cat.” He looked at the goop in his hand. “Doesn’t that beat all, Schools?” Icely asked. “Man-killing dog, and it’s the cat that’s doing me in. Ain’t that a fucking peach? Guess I’m going to need some white-lined antibiotics.” He laughed, as he got back into the car. “Come on, Schools, move a little so I can get in the glove box. I’m not shitting you, man, move!” he shouted when he realized the dead man wasn’t moving fast enough. Icely pulled his gun out and pressed the barrel against Schools’ head, he did so with enough force that Schools fell over.
“Why didn’t you just do that in the first place?” Icely asked as he reached over and grabbed the cocaine. Icely had just done his second rail and was feeling better when he heard a familiar far off sound. “Pigs? No offense,” he said to Schools. “You still pissed about the whole gun to the head thing, man? That was nothing. Here let me help you up.” Icely propped Schools back into a sitting position. “Man, you want one of these lines? You look worse than I feel.”
Icely’s attention was once again pulled to the noise of the approaching car. “Well ain’t that the shit.” Icely looked at the passing car. A multi-colored cat was staring straight at him through the passenger side window.
“Fuck, Schools, you were right, man. All we had to do was wait for her! Hot fucking damn! Put your seatbelt on, we’re going for a ride!”
He started the car and pulled out quickly, sending gravel shooting out from behind him, his wound slowly draining blood. Icely was too far gone to care.