Free Kill Baxter by Charlie Human Page A

‘Don’t worry about it. Runeshine hits everyone hard the first time they drink it.’
    I bite into the dry sandwich and force myself to chew and swallow.
    ‘If you need to use the toilet, do it now,’ Nom says. ‘There’s always a rush before we get on the buses.’
    I take his advice and walk the long corridor to the toilet. On the way I encounter a threesome: a guy and two girls. One is blonde and perfectly made up. The other has raven-black hair, purple eyeshadow and a pierced nose and lip. The blonde looks bored and is scrolling through her phone. The goth is clearly into it. She winks at me over the shoulder of her white-arsed lover. I half smile, avert my eyes and walk quickly past.
    Some kids are smoking meth in the toilet and I have to wait until they’re finished. I squeeze into the small cubicle, kick a small burnt glass pipe and needle out of the way with the toe of my shoe and sit with my head in my hands. I hate Hexpoort already and I haven’t even got there yet.
    I take out my phone. I have three bars so I give it a try and dial the number.
    ‘Esmé?’ I say.
    ‘Hey, magic boy,’ she says. ‘Are you there yet?’ It’s so damn good to hear her voice.
    ‘Nah.’ I try to sound nonchalant. ‘Still on the train.’ I hear a voice in the background and Esmé laughs.
    ‘Who you with?’ I say.
    ‘Oh, just my friend Troy.’
    ‘Who is this Troy?’ I ask coolly. ‘Have I ever met him?’
    ‘I thought you said you weren’t jealous?’
    ‘I’m not,’ I say. ‘Pssht. Me, jealous? Come on. I just like to know what you’re doing.’
    ‘Troy and I are hanging out, that’s all.’
    The voice says something again in the background and Esmé laughs.
    ‘Jesus,’ I say. ‘Do you think you could focus on me for a second?’ I instantly regret it.
    ‘Bax, if you’re going to be a dick, I’m going to hang up. Call me again if you want to apologise.’
    The line goes dead. Shit. I instantly redial the number and then realise that the signal has disappeared.
    ‘Fuck!’ I scream and kick the toilet wall repeatedly until I force myself to calm down. Just relax. Wait until you’ve got signal and then call her back. At least you’ve got a phone and there is an intermittent signal. It’s all going to be OK.
    I open the toilet door feeling a Zen-like calm. Which is instantly dispelled by a pair of hands grabbing me and slamming me against the corridor wall.
    Hekka’s face is right in mine and his forearm is against my throat. ‘Well look. It’s the boy who wants to be king,’ he says, spitting into my eye.
    ‘What the hell are you talking about?’ I choke out, struggling against the tattooed forearm that is slowly closing off my airway. ‘I don’t want to be anything.’
    ‘Well you shouldn’t have saved the world then,’ he says. His face is angry and red and the crescent scar is throbbing with his pulse. ‘That’s my job. I want you to say it. Say “You’re the Chosen One”.’
    ‘You’re the Chosen One,’ I gurgle. ‘You’re the Chosen One.’
    ‘Don’t fucking forget it.’ He pushes harder on my throat, then pulls my phone from my hand. ‘I’ll take this.’
    I struggle against his arm and grab at the phone. It’s my lifeline to the outside world.
    ‘Give it to me,’ I hiss.
    ‘Consider it your donation to the cause,’ he says with a smile. He raises a fist. ‘I’m going to leave you with a little souvenir of your brush with greatness.’
    ‘Leave him alone,’ two voices say in unison.
    I strain my neck to look over Hekka’s shoulder and see the two girls from the threesome. Except they have the same torso. The shirt is white and starched, but one shoulder is ripped, revealing an arm full of tattoos. One leg is wearing a torn fishnet stocking. In one hand is a cheerleading pompom; the other is holding a switchblade delicately between purple nails.
    ‘Siamese monster alert,’ Hekka says, taking his forearm off my throat. ‘Freaks defending freaks.