“With what? Your plumber’s tool?” Henry chuckled. He stopped in a snap and focused on the father. “You have fucked with the wrong people. I have a highly-trained band of individuals in the house that, with one signal, will come out in full force. I have a sniper up top, and one in each window. If you try anything, it will be your last day in this cruel world. Do you understand? Or do I need to speak slower?”
The one that Henry had in a headlock was on the brink of unconsciousness. He stopped struggling.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Oh, fuck.” I saw it coming before it happened. I closed my eyes. Claire struggled against me, while I held her.
“Shoulder!” Henry yelled. We heard a single gunshot, and the father fell to the ground, writhing in pain. “Now, I suggest you get your ass away from my people and our belongings, or you will have a leg injury, as well.”
Henry let go of the son and pushed him away. He bent over, coughing, and rubbed his throat, checking for blood. He grabbed his father, who was on the ground bleeding like a stuck pig, and they ran off. Henry turned around, grabbed the gun that the man dropped, and stormed back inside, slamming the door.
“Henry!” When I got to him, I saw his eyes were graying before my eyes. “Henry?”
“I need a fix. The blood he poured out is making me have a craving.”
“Okay. Okay. I’ll have Claire hook me up.” I pulled out the box that had the draw supplies and found what I needed to fill a bag. Nick and Thomas rushed downstairs.
“Nice work, Nick.” Henry smirked.
“It was Thomas’ idea to whistle. I was just going to pick them both off.” Thomas shifted uncomfortably. He probably wasn’t used to getting compliments.
Henry patted him on the shoulder. “Brilliant. No sense in killing the stupid. They’ll end up killing themselves before long,” Henry said, seemingly amused by his own statement.
“Henry, Nick. Stop. They’re just scared. After all, they said it was their neighborhood.” Claire jammed the needle into my arm.
“OW! What the fuck, Claire!” I yelled.
“Sorry,” she whispered to me. Then she finished her thought, “They’re just protecting what they feel is rightfully theirs.” Claire lectured on. “We can’t behave like animals. We need to try to act proper.”
“Proper?” Henry and Nick said in unison.
“Yes. Proper. We have to treat people like we would like to be treated.” I rolled my eyes and sighed. “We can’t just rush into a neighborhood and think that no one will be upset with us.”
She turned and stood in front of both Henry and Nick, hands on her hips. Thomas, as always, stayed silent and watched from a far.
“Alright, Claire.” I became nervous about what may come out of Henry’s mouth. He was craving and cranky. “If you think you can handle these situations better, then the next time someone comes knocking on the door with a gun, wanting to kill your boyfriend for stealing what was supposedly their gas, then…have…at…it!”
Henry pulled off his hoodie and vest. He picked up the gun that he took from the moron. After he removed the magazine, he laughed.
“What?” Nick said. He tossed the gun at Nick.
“Empty.”
“See! You have to control yourself a little more. Maybe we should have given them some supplies, or their gas back. Now that guy could bleed to death or get a nasty infection because you shot him!”
Henry sighed in disbelief. Maybe she missed it, but he had tried giving them back their gas. They weren’t in the negotiating mood. He gave up and sat down, drumming his fingers on his knee, waiting patiently for his half of the bag.
Then Nick took the stage. “You seem to have forgotten they shot at us first!” Nick was angry. She decided not to say anything else. She seemed a little upset that Nick yelled at her. I figured it was probably because he was craving, too.
***
After our lovely, rather uneventful morning, we readied ourselves to continue our journey. Henry was standing in front of the grimy window, contemplating something.
“Hey,” I murmured, and rubbed my hand up and down his muscular back. He sighed. I saw his brilliant, emerald eyes filled with agony. “Is it Sophie’s truck?”
He nodded. “What do you think we should do with it?” I was surprised he asked for my opinion. He was more of a “his way or the highway” kind of guy. I was hesitant to answer, but he needed help with this decision.
“I think we should leave it. It’s not safe with the side window smashed out.”
He nodded again. “I think you’re right.” He turned and looked at me. “Can you help me clean it out? I want to make sure everything of hers is out of there.”