Draft one. For a story contest.
Kyle sat on his bed, absentmindedly bouncing a ball against the floor, until the ball managed to get
away from him. It was a hot night, and he was restless. He wished he could run, like when he was a
kid. He remembered back to what happened last time he tried and he shuddered.
His resolve was further steeled by this memory. Tonight was the night. This was no longer about
proving anything to Helen. She was engaged anyway. Helen was only a small figure in Kyle’s grand
scheme, and she was only there briefly. This was bigger than her. It was time for him to do something
for society besides provide network solutions.
Kyle dabbed at the sweat in his eyebrows with the edge of the bed’s sheet. The CD of Celtic music
he was listening to ended and he could suddenly hear the television from the other room. His
roommate was watching some anime show that Kyle couldn’t quite place. Something with giant robots,
he was pretty sure. He resisted the urge to join him on the couch, and pushed his pendulous mass up
off of his bed.
As he searched among the DVD’s and discarded food wrappers that littered the desk, his mind
conjured forth images of him in the old west. Skinnier, of course. Riding from town to town, gunning
down countless black cowboy hats. And along the way he’d learn all sorts of survival tricks from the
local tribes, who would admire his tolerance. Finally, he found the white headphones.
He remembered when he had told his mother about wanting an iPod. She said to him that those
white earphones were an open invitation for him to get mugged. She had planted the idea in his head,
so many months ago. Then all he had to do was borrow some headphones from a coworker, and he
was ready to go. His coworker thought it was a foolish idea. Kyle could tell. He’d show him, though.
Even though he seemed like a nice guy, he was underestimating Kyle just like everyone else.
Kyle’s heart was racing as he put on his trench coat and headed out the door. He was anticipating
having to make up an excuse for his roommate about where he was heading, but his roommate was
asleep on the sagging couch. The TV was still on.
It was less humid outside, but still hot. Kyle’s knees were starting to throb already, but he put the
thought out of his head. He smiled to himself a little. He was getting exercise again, too. The ornate,
curved knife he kept in the pocket of his trench coat felt reassuringly weighty in his pocket. He slipped
the ear buds into his ears, and stuck the other end of the cord into the pocket that contained the knife.
He could tell that tonight was going to be a big night.
As Kyle walked south, he started seeing stores he wasn’t used to seeing. The check-cashing stores
started to be more frequent and well-lit. The restaurants all offered individual chicken wings. The only
white people he saw were all gaunt and uneasy-looking, pregnant with some unspoken common
malaise. No one was bothering them, or even looking at them. Kyle was only getting a few sidelong
glances, himself. He pressed on.
After a few blocks, he found himself in a residential area. His breathing quickened, and it became
strangely quiet. The sirens, traffic, and other low-grade chatter had ended at some point when Kyle
was walking. He felt a tightening deep in his pendulous gut, near his spine. This was going to be the
place.
Kyle mentally went over a list of things he would say during his heroic stand: “I don’t think so,
buddy.” “The streets aren’t safe for you anymore.” “Don’t worry, Helen. Let me handle this trash.” He
almost didn’t notice the large dog shuffling through the alley. It was fairly far away. Kyle swore it
stopped to look at him. It was moving oddly for a dog, but what else could it be?
Finally Kyle heard indistinct yet undeniably human voices coming from an alley. The voices were
quiet, almost subliminal. He couldn’t make out any words, but there seemed to be two male voices and
one female. Peeking quickly into the alley yielded no useful information. There was nothing left for
Kyle to do but head in there and see. He thought about walking from town to town in the old west
again, tightened the sweaty grip he had on his knife, and headed into the alley.
Kyle heard distinctly human laughter. When he got to the end of the alley, however, there was no
one there. The silhouette of that dog he saw earlier scurried behind a dumpster. Something
indescribably grim was hanging in the air over the scene. All the air seemed to have left the end of the
alley. Kyle swallowed and tip-toed as well as he could behind the dumpster. He felt his testicles
ascend into his abdomen. That wasn’t a dog he saw before.
Kyle was breathing hard now and rapidly backing up. He tripped over his own feet, which had
grown more dumb than usual in the ensuing panic, and fell on his ass. The fall knocked the wind out
of him with an audible sound. The bald man laughed at him as he approached him on all fours. Kyle
could see that his teeth were filed down to a homodontic row of points. Kyle continued scooting
backwards on his flat ass and clammy hands. It occurred to him that his motions were almost as
unnatural as the bald man’s.
The bald man whistled, and Kyle saw more people moving on all fours out of the corners of his
vision. There were two more males, and one female. The men had similar filed teeth, pleated slacks
and collared polo shirts. The woman had on a sensible pantsuit, and had a knife in her teeth. The last
thing Kyle thought before they descended on him was, “The old west never had savages like this.”