Free Apeshit by Iii Carlton Mellick Page A

time,”
    Desdemona says. “Even people who put shotguns in their
    mouths survive from time to time, even when their face has
    been blown off.”

    “If she survives,” Kevin says, “she’s probably going
    to be brain damaged.”

    “Let’s just focus on her survival right now, okay?”
    Crystal says.

    They place her carefully into the backseat of the van,
    on top of empty beer cans and candy wrappers. Pork rind
    crumbles stick to the open wound on the back of her head.
    Crystal brings her hand to the brainy mess to brush away the
    crumbs, but stops short, worried that she might get the blood
    or greasy food on her hand. She decides to let the doctor
    handle it, even if the pork rinds get rubbed into her head dur-
    ing the drive down the mountain. Stephanie wheezes and
    spits mouth foam as they close the door on her.

    “We’ll be back soon,” Crystal tells the others.

    “What about me?” Desdemona says. “I want to go,
    too.”

    “Stay here,” she says. “You’re all too fucking drunk.”

    Rick pulls Desdemona back. “Let’s stay.” But De

    breaks out of his grip.

    Kevin pulls out the keys and rushes to the drivers
    side door, then notices something on the ground.

    “Oh, fuck,” he says. “How the hell did this happen?”

    “What?” Jason says.

    The van has a flat tire.

    “Must have ran over a nail or something on the way
    up here,” Jason says.

    “You’ve got to be shitting me,” Crystal says.

    “We’ve got to change it,” Kevin says.

    “There’s no time,” Crystal says. “Just drive on it.”

    “We’ll never get down the mountain with this flat,”
    Kevin says. “It’ll be way too dangerous along that cliff.”

    “We’re going to have to try,” Crystal says. “All we
    need to do is get down the mountain far enough to use our
    cell phones.”

    Kevin doesn’t argue. He gets into the van and starts
    it up. Rick, Jason, and Des stand there, watching as the van
    backs slowly down the hill. They wait there until it is out
    of their sight.

    “There’s no way she’s going to make it through the
    night,” Jason says.

    Desdemona furiously rolls her eyes at him and
    walks away.

    “Give it a rest,” Rick tells Jason.

    Something is watching them from the bushes as they
    walk through the woods back to the cabin. It sees Desdemo-
    na in her pink underwear, Rick in his sweat pants and t-shirt,
    Jason in his whitey-tighties and muddy gym socks. It creeps
    in closer to them, following them, listening to them argue.

    “If she dies you’re going to feel like such a dick,”
    Desdemona tells Jason.

    “I don’t care if I’m a dick,” Jason says.

    “Don’t you think of anyone but yourself?” she says.

    “That’s not how I was raised,” Jason says.

    “Then how were you raised?”

    “To be a man,” he says. “With no fear and no
    attachments.”

    “I have to pee,” Desdemona says.

    “Cool,” Jason says, flipping her off.

    Desdemona pulls down her pink panties as she squats.
    The others keep walking.

    “Hey, aren’t you going to wait for me?” Desdemona
    says.

    “No, thanks,” Jason says. Jason is the kind of guy
    who prefers to pretend that girls never actually go to the
    bathroom.

    “Rick!” Desdemona cries.

    Rick groans and turns around. He walks back to her
    and waits for her to pee. Jason goes back to the cabin by
    himself and cracks open another beer.

    While she’s peeing, Desdemona says, “We’re never
    going to forget this night for the rest of our lives.”

    While he watches her pee, Rick says, “Yeah.”

    Desdemona thinks about how Rick has to pee sitting
    down from now on. However, she kind of remembers him
    peeing off of the balcony early that night. She wonders if he
    has one of those funnel things that make it possible for girls
    to pee standing up.

    “Des,” Rick says. “You know . . . I don’t think we
    should be together anymore.”

    A wave of diarrhea hits Desdemona while in the mid-
    dle of peeing. She tries