Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Imaginary Enemy
"What do you mean you left the guns at the camp, Gerard?" Mikey yelled fiercely after I panicked and admitted I left them. I clenched my teeth and kept my eyes on the road, refusing to look at anyone.
"Goddamn it!" Frank yelled and slammed his head on the seat. I was not going to cry. Not in front of Frank.
"What the hell are we going to do now?" Ray yelled over Frank's hysteria, no signs of sleep in his voice. I felt a grin spread over my face as an idea popped in my head. I looked to the right, at the deserted field that separated this zone from the next and found an opening where the cactus stopped lining the road.
"Oh no, Gerard. I know that smile," Mikey said seriously, pushing my shoulder to get my attention.
"I'm going to improvise," I told Ray. Everyone in the car grew silent and stared at me like I was about to murder one of them. Which was likely, giving the fact that my plan was slightly on the insanity scale.
Before anymore sighs of anxiety left Frank, I took a deep breath and yanked the wheel to the right, sending the Trans Am off the cracked road and onto the unsettling, rocky ground. Which to my surprise worked out better than originally planned. Not that this was planned, or anything.
"You know where we're heading now, right?" Mikey asked, his voice distorted from the frequent jolts of the car.
"Away from the Exterminators, that's all that matters."
"Uh, try again," Frank sneered, grabbing the map off the floor and pointed to the zone where we were headed. I glanced at the green shaded area of the map, where Frank's finger rested.
Well, this day was getting better and better.
"Turn around!" Frank frantically screamed, making all of us more nervous to the oncoming zone. We called it the wasteland; where toxic, nuclear waste was being held by who we called the Higher-Ups.
"Now I know why you failed Improv class in High School," Ray muttered, wiping a bead of sweat that reached his lips away.
"Ha, ha," I spat sarcastically, looking all around for a road, one obviously not being found. If I keep heading east, we'll run into the wasteland. North and we'll be in the Exterminators territory again. Definitely can't go back. South had to be the only way out.
I took another risky, stomach hurling jerk to the right, almost sending us on two wheels.
"How far is West Death Row?" That was one of the roads that lead to the Wasteland, hence the name 'Death Row'. There was high risk of radiation on the road, but if it meant escape, anyone out here would've taken it without second thought. Without anyone answering my question, most likely because they didn't know, Mikey huffed, followed by a whiny, "I feel like a coward." He slumped in his seat and crossed his arms in that bitchy way of his.
"Not everyone knows Kung Fu, Mikey," I smirked and tried my best to avoid the rocks that were scattered randomly across the sand. Needless to say, it wasn't working out so well.
"Got any cigs left?" Frank yawned and looked pointedly at me. I raised my eyebrows and smiled.
"I was gonna ask you the same thing."
"So, that's a no." Frank grinned sheepishly and yawned again, which arose a yawning fit of my own.
"Calm down," I said between yawns to Frank and pointed to the oncoming black pavement, "we're almost to Billy's. He's gotta have some left."
"And if he doesn't?" Frank asked matter-of-factly.
"Then he'll have coffee. Which is better than smoking anyway." Mikey interrupted, his voice already fading to sleep. I looked towards Frank, who was trying not to laugh, and I cracked a smile. Even in the face of death, we could still laugh like it was High School all over again. My smile faded as I sighed in nostalgia, not that High School was anything to be nostalgic over. The memories flooded back to me like a tidal wave. Word getting out that I had a crush on Frank was probably the worst part of it all. The fact that it was true hurt the worst. I was lucky enough to had the rumor stopped before it reached Frank's knowledge.
"Hello? Earth to Gerard?" Frank shook my shoulder, taking me back to the present. I shuddered at his touch and looked into his concerned, hazel eyes.
"You weren't just thinking of them, were you?" Frank sternly asked, taking his tattooed hand off me.
"No," I quickly said, swerving onto West Death Row's cracked pavement. I looked back to the Wastelands electrified gate entrance, the clouds above it having a faint green glow from the waste's fumes that resided inside. I shuddered again, thinking about last week's story that had to do with a young boy that had ventured off and somehow had gotten in the gates. Long story short, he wont be seen around the Market anymore.
Damn, Frank was right. I really am stuck in the past.
"Goddamn it!" Frank yelled and slammed his head on the seat. I was not going to cry. Not in front of Frank.
"What the hell are we going to do now?" Ray yelled over Frank's hysteria, no signs of sleep in his voice. I felt a grin spread over my face as an idea popped in my head. I looked to the right, at the deserted field that separated this zone from the next and found an opening where the cactus stopped lining the road.
"Oh no, Gerard. I know that smile," Mikey said seriously, pushing my shoulder to get my attention.
"I'm going to improvise," I told Ray. Everyone in the car grew silent and stared at me like I was about to murder one of them. Which was likely, giving the fact that my plan was slightly on the insanity scale.
Before anymore sighs of anxiety left Frank, I took a deep breath and yanked the wheel to the right, sending the Trans Am off the cracked road and onto the unsettling, rocky ground. Which to my surprise worked out better than originally planned. Not that this was planned, or anything.
"You know where we're heading now, right?" Mikey asked, his voice distorted from the frequent jolts of the car.
"Away from the Exterminators, that's all that matters."
"Uh, try again," Frank sneered, grabbing the map off the floor and pointed to the zone where we were headed. I glanced at the green shaded area of the map, where Frank's finger rested.
Well, this day was getting better and better.
"Turn around!" Frank frantically screamed, making all of us more nervous to the oncoming zone. We called it the wasteland; where toxic, nuclear waste was being held by who we called the Higher-Ups.
"Now I know why you failed Improv class in High School," Ray muttered, wiping a bead of sweat that reached his lips away.
"Ha, ha," I spat sarcastically, looking all around for a road, one obviously not being found. If I keep heading east, we'll run into the wasteland. North and we'll be in the Exterminators territory again. Definitely can't go back. South had to be the only way out.
I took another risky, stomach hurling jerk to the right, almost sending us on two wheels.
"How far is West Death Row?" That was one of the roads that lead to the Wasteland, hence the name 'Death Row'. There was high risk of radiation on the road, but if it meant escape, anyone out here would've taken it without second thought. Without anyone answering my question, most likely because they didn't know, Mikey huffed, followed by a whiny, "I feel like a coward." He slumped in his seat and crossed his arms in that bitchy way of his.
"Not everyone knows Kung Fu, Mikey," I smirked and tried my best to avoid the rocks that were scattered randomly across the sand. Needless to say, it wasn't working out so well.
"Got any cigs left?" Frank yawned and looked pointedly at me. I raised my eyebrows and smiled.
"I was gonna ask you the same thing."
"So, that's a no." Frank grinned sheepishly and yawned again, which arose a yawning fit of my own.
"Calm down," I said between yawns to Frank and pointed to the oncoming black pavement, "we're almost to Billy's. He's gotta have some left."
"And if he doesn't?" Frank asked matter-of-factly.
"Then he'll have coffee. Which is better than smoking anyway." Mikey interrupted, his voice already fading to sleep. I looked towards Frank, who was trying not to laugh, and I cracked a smile. Even in the face of death, we could still laugh like it was High School all over again. My smile faded as I sighed in nostalgia, not that High School was anything to be nostalgic over. The memories flooded back to me like a tidal wave. Word getting out that I had a crush on Frank was probably the worst part of it all. The fact that it was true hurt the worst. I was lucky enough to had the rumor stopped before it reached Frank's knowledge.
"Hello? Earth to Gerard?" Frank shook my shoulder, taking me back to the present. I shuddered at his touch and looked into his concerned, hazel eyes.
"You weren't just thinking of them, were you?" Frank sternly asked, taking his tattooed hand off me.
"No," I quickly said, swerving onto West Death Row's cracked pavement. I looked back to the Wastelands electrified gate entrance, the clouds above it having a faint green glow from the waste's fumes that resided inside. I shuddered again, thinking about last week's story that had to do with a young boy that had ventured off and somehow had gotten in the gates. Long story short, he wont be seen around the Market anymore.
Damn, Frank was right. I really am stuck in the past.
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