Escaping a smaller horde wasn't so hard now that soundlessly breaking windows was on the table. With Alan knowing the surrounding area like the back of his hand, he easily pointed out a building for them to wait out the storm. During this time, the trace amounts of Popper oil on Alan's body gradually sloughed off and turned from a viscous goo into dirty black water.

After an hour passed and they were sure they'd made away just fine, Alan elatedly started grasping Clay's shoulders and moving his feet in a vague dance.

"We fuckin' made it! We fuckin' made it! I can't believe this ain't some dream! You saved--You're a fuckin' badass! Ha-ha-holy shit! I'm still shakin'!"

Clay's body felt floppy and weak, so all he could offer in return was a dull, tired grin. He broke away from Alan and sat down on a coffee table.

>STAM: 0/10

No more extra Stamina for today. At least he felt like he could get back on the move soon.

Clay rubbed the part of his leg where he'd been bitten. "Let me sit down for a little while longer. I've caught my breath, but my body aches like hell…"

"Yeah! Yeah, for sure! Fair enough! Take a load off!"

Alan proceeded to sit with Clay and recount the events they’d both just lived through like he was describing a scene out of a movie.

"Then you put that thing on the ground and walked on it! That was smart thinkin'! Then I…"

It was a little annoying when anyone went on for too long, but Clay certainly didn't hate being complimented so much.

Yeah, he could be a little bit badass when he wanted, right?

A lot of it had to do with his stats, sure, but he figured out the Popper's weakness and saved Alan. A Skill hadn't told him how to do that. It was all him.

Clay smiled sheepishly. He was feeling pretty good about himself right now, even if he was doing his best not to get a big head over it.

By the time Alan's recap was finished, Clay felt good enough that they could start moving again.

"You sure you're good to go? A fight like that would even wipe out a guy who's totally in shape, so there ain't no shame if you need to chill a little while longer," Alan said while looking him over.

"I'm alright now. I burned through all of my extra energy, but right now I only feel about as tired as I usually do when we're halfway through one of our usual outings."

"Damn, that must be good. I didn't even get to do any real fighting and I'm beat." Alan picked up one of the diesel-filled gas canisters and motioned to the other one. "Sucks that we only got away with two, but it's better than nothin'. Let's move carefully and just get our asses home. Milly's gonna get a real kick out of this one!"

Clay nodded and took the other canister. Kissy made sure there weren't any surprises when they left the building.

During the walk back, he took a look at the filthy blade on the end of Facestabber. Chipped, blunted, and maybe even starting to come loose—also didn't get to do a lot of actual face-stabbing. It was sad, but he was going to have to replace the knife later that night.

"Wowie, you two look awful!"

Clay and Alan both stopped at the sound of an obnoxiously familiar voice.

Goatee-Eyeglasses (Radman had said his name was Ronny, right?) hopped out from a broken window and approached them.

The day had already gone on too long from Clay's perspective, so he probably didn't hide his displeasure as well as he usually did.

"Come on! What's with the long face? Not happy to see me? I just wanted to hang out with my two favoritest guys in the whole world! So don't be mean to me, alright?" Ronny stopped in front of Clay.

It wasn't just him. It wasn't even just four of them. He counted six members of the asshole patrol here in front of him, but he also felt a presence that made him briefly look over his shoulder.

They were all here, all ten of them. Even Ed.

While Clay was distracted, Ronny snatched Facestabber out of his hand and started inspecting it.

"Hey!" Clay complained but didn't make any real attempt at taking it back.

"What? I'm just having a look at your weapon to make sure it's up to code!" Ronny traced his finger along the handle. "Facestabber? That's cute. No, really. I think that's a good name."

He proceeded to snap the broom handle over his knee and throw the two splintered pieces to opposite ends of the street.

What the fuck is your problem, man!?

"You wanna know something interesting?" Ronny closed the distance once again, getting up in Clay's face and driving him to nervously look off to the side to keep from meeting his gaze. "We know someone was talking to Richie again. Happened almost a week ago."

Clay kept his eyes on one of the broken halves of Facestabber.

"See, everyone else thinks it ruled you guys out because we've been keeping an eye on you around that time. Me? I think it's a little suspicious we never saw you," he jabbed a finger into Clay's chest, "specifically."

The jab made Clay take a step back.

That's frustrating. If he'd known it was coming, he would have tried to stand more solidly.

Even more frustrating was that Ronny was on the right track, even if Clay doubted that he'd been the one to come to that conclusion on his own.

"Speaking of hierarchy, there's another thing you should know about Ronny," Radman had said, "he never does anything unless he has permission to do it. If I could compare him, it would be to one of those middle-manager types that treat their underlings like shit while kissing up to the higher-ups. And you better believe he's never had an original thought."

Someone else in the asshole patrol voiced concerns, and now Ronny was being allowed to run with it. Why? Clay could only assume it was because of the 'rapport' he'd already built with them.

Unfortunately, letting him run his mouth gave away a crucial piece of information.

"How many times do I have to say it?" Clay said while trying not to sound combative. "I seriously don't know what you're talking about. I came in after all of that. I don't know anything about this Richard guy."

"How many times?" Ronny scoffed while looking around at his friends. "Get a load of this guy! We hardly ever bother him and he's complaining!"

A few of them snickered. Ed didn't say or do anything except stare at Clay.

Without warning, Ronny pulled open Clay's jacket and started rifling through his pockets. He started with his pants, then moved up to the inner pocket of his jacket.

Clay dropped the gas canister and tried to push him away at the wrists. "What are you doing, dude!?"

"Quit squirming." Ronny yanked him around a bit to demonstrate the difference in their strength, his voice coming out in a series of chuckles like he and Clay were two friends messing around with each other. The hammer Clay carried was removed and dropped onto the ground between them. "What else you got? I see a hammer in your belt there--Whoops, I dropped it! You give that one a name too? What's it called? Guykisser?"

When Ronny pulled his hand out from Clay's jacket, what he retrieved was making quite a lot of noise.

Hisss!

Kissy was gripped in Ronny's fist, doing her best to scratch and bite him through his glove.

"Hey, what are you doing…?" Clay slowly put his hands up to reach for her as his volume lowered. Either he was too quiet to hear or he was being blatantly ignored.

"Check it out! This freak keeps a rat inside his clothes!" Ronny took a few steps back and held Kissy up as high as he could so everyone could see her. "It's my first time getting to see a furry since things got started!"

"Maybe it's not a sex thing, Ronny," Clay heard someone outside his sight say. "Could be a pet or something."

Another one chimed in, "Or maybe it's one of those super realistic stress toys!"

Ronny's chuckling turned into full-blown laughter. "Hahaha! Maybe you're right! Here, let me give it a squeeze!"

That was when Clay suddenly lunged forward to try and retrieve Kissy and shove Ronny at the same time. "Fucking--!"

He was stopped dead by a pain in his torso that took all of the air out of his lungs. Ronny, almost like he'd been expecting that reaction, cut him off with a kick to his stomach.

"Guhhk--!" Clay hunched over as he fell to his knees, making sputtered heaving sounds while he clutched his belly and tried to catch his breath.

"Hey!" He heard Alan say before he took a few steps in his direction. The sound of jostling guns told Clay that he was being kept from interfering. "Jesus--! Come on, can't you just leave him alone? He already told you he ain't ever seen this Dick you're lookin' for!"

Ronny didn't say anything to Alan. Instead, he tapped Clay's shoulder with the tip of his foot. "Looks like someone's trying to earn their douchebag license."

"He can't breathe! Let him breathe, god damn it!" Alan shouted.

Ed finally spoke, "If you keep screaming like that, one of us is going to have to shoot you. I understand it's a hard situation, but we're just doing what we have to do."

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

"You hear that?" Ronny asked Clay while beginning to actually step on his shoulder. "We're just doing what we have to do. It's you guys that're making this hard."

Clay's hands moved to the ground to hold himself up. They clenched into fists as he started coughing hard enough to make tears blur his vision.

I didn't do anything wrong.

"See? He's breathing fine, grandpa!" Ronny nudged him with his foot. "Hey, quit being a bitch and tell your chaperone that you're alright. I didn't even kick you that hard!"

Clay said something, but his voice was too raspy and it ended up sounding like more coughing.

"What? Hey, you better say something before I give you something to cry about."

I saved a life today. I shouldn't have to put up with this.

Clay tilted his head enough to glare up at him. "Fuck…you…"

Ronny's smirk grew incredulously. "Did I just hear that? Either you're thanking me, or the biggest pussy I've ever met is finally starting to grow a backbone!"

Fuck it. Fuck everything.

"You're…" Clay coughed until he could spit on the ground.

"My…?"

"You're a fucking…poser.”

He could breathe normally again, so he expelled the air in his lungs almost as fast as it came in to say something.

“All this grandstanding, but all I can think is that you're just copying shit you've seen someone else do." Clay met his eyes with a worn-out smirk of his own. "I'll bet anything that it was Ed who did the thing with the can of peaches first. It's pretty sad to think you looked at that and thought, 'you know what'd make this even cooler? If it was me doing it.'"

There was a moment of silence.

One of them spoke up, "Not to side with him, but I do actually remember seeing Ed do the thing with the can of peaches."

"Do what?" Ed asked. "What is he talking about?"

One of them told him about the time Ronny intimidated Clay by nearly making him eat some peach off of a knife.

"Ohhh…" Ed turned his head up and scratched the bottom of his chin as he tried to recall. "I kind of remember doing something like that…I think it was a slice of pineapple, though. I also didn't do a switch-up at the last second."

A few members of the asshole patrol started laughing. Clay's hand found something familiar.

"Really?" Ronny laughed as well, subtly grinding his foot harder against Clay's shoulder. "I don't think I was there for that!"

Clay forced himself to laugh to further Ronny's discomfort. "Now you're trying to play it off…I wonder if there's one thing I've seen you do that you thought of yourself. I bet it wasn't even you that suspected me enough to come here."

"Mann," Ronny groaned, "this is just getting sad now. I've been wanting to hear you say more than two words, but now I'm embarrassed for you. Seriously, it makes me cringe listening to dipshits like you that think they're smart."

"You'd know all about wanting to look smart." Clay let out another breathy laugh. "Your glasses. Are those prescription lenses? I bet not. A poser like you would definitely wear fake glasses just to look more refined. If you're going to steal eyeglasses from a Ball-Mart, at least snatch a pair that actually fit your face, dumbass."

This hadn't been what he had in mind when he asked Radman for information on these guys, but those words tasted so sweet coming out.

More of the group started laughing. Even Ed had a wry smile on his face.

"He's got you there, Ronny!"

"I didn't want to say anything, but…"

"Ooohh! You really just gonna sit there and take that?"

Clay's smile grew as Ronny's own friends started hassling him. This time his laughter was genuine.

He wondered what sort of face Alan was making. This was so unlike how he usually was, Clay thought he might become self-conscious if he turned his head to check.

Ronny lifted his foot off of Clay's shoulder, only to slam it down again. His tone remained light to play it off, but the anger could be felt in that stomp. It hurt and didn't hurt at the same time. Not holding back his thoughts felt good enough that the pain was worth it.

"Fuck, you're really trying to get your ass beat…" Ronny spiked Kissy down on Clay's back, causing her to bounce off in a direction he couldn't see from his position. "I liked you a lot better when you thought I was going to break your arm. Remember that, bitch? We still talk about it and once I find that little runt, I'm going to have a lot of fun telling everyone back home about it too."

Ah, sorry about that, Kissy. I was so pissed off that I forgot he had you.

Clay figured she was fine. It was himself he was starting to worry about.

"'Ohhh! I'm sorry! Oh, please! Let go of my arm, sir! Please oh please!'" Ronny mockingly recalled. "Something like that. Hey, all this is just making me think that you sound a lot better when you're apologizing!"

Ronny began repeatedly stomping on Clay's shoulders and back. "Let's hear it! I'm just doing what I gotta do! Say you're sorry in that whiny voice you do! I just want to make my friends laugh! It's just a joke, so why did you turn it into something nasty!?"

Clay cupped his hands over the back of his head as blow after blow rained down on him. He refused to give him any satisfaction; no noise he made was louder than a grunt.

Beat me up all you want. Compared to zombie bites, this sort of pain is nothing. You can even shoot me if you want! If you're going to get so worked up, just shoot me to make yourself feel better!

Clay smirked through the pain, even as he heard Alan shouting.

He knew it was a worthless thing to feel good about. In the long run, none of this would matter if he was beaten to death and this guy got to live on. It's just that this was the exact sort of thing a protagonist in a show would do. Laugh off the pain, spit in the face of danger.

"This guy's a total wuss!" A 14-year-old Clay said while watching a movie with one of his friends online. The character was in a similar situation to the one he was in now. "He's going to die anyways, so why even bother begging for his life?"

"He doesn't know that!" Nathan laughed. "And don't act like you wouldn't be crying or anything!"

"I'd John Wick my way out of the situation before it ever got to that point, snap their brains while they're blinking! From their perspective, I'd be teleporting!" Clay joked while miming aggressive hand movements even though his friend couldn't see him. "At the very least, I wouldn't beg for my life or anything. It's a moot point, though; I'd never be in this position."

"Yeah, you'd have to go outside for anything besides school for that to happen."

"Hey hey, school can get pretty crazy too. And this guy is only in this situation because he killed that guy's brother! I'm too big a bitch to kill people!"

Another stomp took Clay away from the fond memory.

Was this guy not giving it his all? Clay felt pretty okay despite taking so many blows, okay enough to know nothing was broken and definitely okay enough to look up at him again.

"So you're a big tough boy now, huh…?" Ronny's voice trailed off as something else caught his interest. He was handling something, but Clay's heartbeat was so loud in his ears that he couldn't quite tell what was going on. "Wanna see something original?"

Clay felt a small amount of pressure on his back, something seeping into his jacket, liquid running up his spine until it soaked into his hair. A stench wiped the self-satisfied smile off of his face.

Ronny was pouring the diesel from Clay's gas canister onto his back.

"We've never lit anyone on fire before! Not that I know of! Hey, Ed, you think I'd be copying you if I lit this douchebag up?"

Hey…

Ed hummed in thought.

A different member of the group said something first, "We're not supposed to go too far with the apartment guys unless we have to."

"That only applies to the people that were there back then," Ed corrected. "Nobody back home will be upset if some drifter dies."

Don't talk about it so casually.

"He's--! That kid's my nephew!" Alan blurted out. "He's my nephew! He's been here since the beginning!"

"Keep it down, you lying piece of shit." It felt like the first time in a while that Ronny said anything to him. "He literally said a little while ago that he wasn't here back then."

You're not serious, right?

"Sorry, Alan," Ed said in his usual patronizing tone. "I'm leaving this in my friend's hands. Do whatever you want, Ronny."

"Hahaha! Shit, sucks when the crowd turns against you, huh?" Ronny laughed. "Looks like nobody is gonna give me any guff!"

This is too much. People aren't actually like this. People don't do this.

"I don't think I'm gonna totally drench you. Since it's mostly just on your back, it'll take a little longer to actually kill you."

Clay started trying to stand up, but Ronny's foot came down on the back of his head and forced his face against the ground.

All I did was talk back a little bit.

Clay heard a clicking sound, something metallic followed by an ignition. It was the distinctive sound of a lighter being lit.

"Of course, I think I'd probably be able to let this go if I could get an apology from you for all the stupid shit you said."

Just because of that? You'd kill me like this just because of that?

Clay's body betrayed him and openly shook. The teeth he had clenched were starting to chatter.

"If you're willing to get lit on fire over all this, then maybe you are a secret tough guy." He could hear Ronny closing the lighter, then opening it again. "Probably won't look so tough when you're screaming like a girl. Still though, you'll be a real badass for two seconds."

Badass. Alan called him that earlier.

Despite not wanting to get ahead of himself after one stylish victory, he must have subconsciously bought into the idea he was becoming some kind of cool protagonist. Cool protagonists don't beg for their lives, and they certainly don't take shit from people like this. Maybe that could be him?

Clay spoke softly.

"What?" Ronny lifted his foot enough for Clay to be able to speak.

Reality hit.

"I'm sorry…" Clay's voice was choked up by the tears rolling freely down his cheeks.

"Huh?? A little louder, please. We can't all hear you."

Why can't you just shoot me?

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please don't do this! I'm sorry!"

"Hahaha! Not so badass now, huh? Hey, what are you sorry for? I don't like to hold grudges, so I've already forgotten why I was even mad at you."

I'm not in the wrong. I didn't do anything to deserve this. I'm not the sort of person that deserves this.

"I'm sorry for saying all that stuff! I didn't know what I was talking about! I just got mad!"

Things were starting to look up before you all got here.

Clay continued, "If things could be different, I know you wouldn't want to be here! I didn't mean to make anyone's job harder! I'm sorry!"

I should have been smarter. I shouldn't have lashed out. I don't want to burn to death. I never wanted to meet you guys in the first place.

At that moment, Clay had a startling realization. This was the real reason why he'd suggested they not get involved with Radman or his conflict with the other group. He dressed it up like he cared about saving Alan's feelings, and maybe he did, but there had been something more important to him.

Avoiding pain.

Ronny hummed like Ed had earlier. He was mulling over whether or not to kill him like he was deciding what to get from the store.

That easy-going kid who never thought he'd have to beg for anything…

"I'm sorry!" Clay sobbed.

I'm sorry you grew up to be me.

"…Pfthahahaha! What a switch-up!" Ronny's words were occasionally interrupted by fits of laughter. "All that talk about me being a poser! Hahahaha! You were the one acting all cool a second ago! Who's the poser now!?"

No reason to live in fantasy. This was the real him. A few numbers going up wouldn't change his core.

This is normal. If people were honest, they'd do the same thing in my situation. Even Alan. I'm a normal human being.

Ronny tapped the lighter against his glasses. "Just one thing: it feels a little like you're lying about how sorry you are when it takes this much to make you apologize. You'd say anything to save your skin right now, right? Even shit you don’t mean."

I apologized like you wanted…

"Sorry, man. At least you were speaking a bit of truth near the end, though!"

You're not even human.

But Clay knew that wasn't exactly it. Humans have a long history of cruelty against their enemies for the sake of self-gratification. This was just as human a thing to do as anything Alan or Milly had done for him.

And you're all just going to sit there and watch.

Out of ten people, there had to be at least one person who was uncomfortable with what was about to happen and still wasn't going to do anything about it. That was human as well. It was for the same reason that Alan couldn't do anything. Survival.

I'm being ignored again. I'm human too. I don't want to die a painful death. I want to survive a little longer. It's not fair.

He heard the lighter being lit. Clay's body shook like it was seizing up.

If that's the way it is…

"If that's the way it is…" His wavering voice weakly echoed the calm thought in his mind.

I'll be more human than you.

"Got something else to say? I'm two seconds away from doing what I gotta do, so you better speak up."

"I know where he is! The guy you're looking for! I know where Richard is!"

Silence.

"Heh!" Ronny made an overly spiteful sound. "That's really convenient."

"Indeed," Ed said, another pair of shoes appeared in Clay's view. "If you do know where he is, I'd have to stop Ronny from killing you."

Ronny was already starting to sound disappointed, removing his foot from Clay's head. "You heard the way this guy was begging. He'll say anything he thinks we want to hear to keep from getting cooked."

"Things like that do happen all the time," Ed concurred. "Hmm…"

"I know things! He told me things!" Clay sat up so he was only on his knees and looked at them both with a craven smile on his face. "He's Ra--He calls himself Radman now! Maybe he always did? He told me that Ronny didn't need his eyeglasses and that you used to be a school teacher!"

Ed's posture changed.

"He also told me a little about the secret project your leader had him working on! It was something that could keep Crowders away, right?"

A few members of the group started whispering amongst each other. Ronny looked at Ed in disbelief.

Ed's face didn't change; he was the only one who already knew what Clay was talking about.

"Alright, let him stand up." Ed put a hand on Ronny's shoulder. "If it turns out he's lying or this is some kind of trick, I'll let you do whatever."

The whispering intensified. Clay didn't even come close to looking in Alan's direction.

Ronny didn't seem too bothered. "Damn, I'm good. I should be the one doing these interrogation things more often."

The lighter closed.