Read Online This is the End (Book 2): Not Dead Yet by Lisa Biesiada - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lisa Biesiada
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
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on my mistakes, but being confronted by possible death every 5 minutes was much better at that.
“Here,” Forty said as he passed the dirty glass pipe in my direction. “It’s your hit.”
I took it from his hands and put it to my lips, flicking my lighter and melting the little rock at the bottom of the bubble while slowing rolling the pipe back and forth against my lips until a pure, white smoke filled the tube and I started to inhale it slowly, so as to not disturb the slightly boiling crystals at the other end. Lungs full, I sat back and let out the giant plume of smoke, watching it seep into every molecule around me until I was sure the smoke was actually crawling back into my blood through my skin as though it couldn’t stand to be without me for long. The feeling was mutual.
Handing the pipe back to Forty I leaned back into the thread-bare couch we were lounging on and watched the others in their various states of drug use. I didn’t know their names; I knew Forty and that this was his house, but there was no part of me that wanted to know any of the other addicts. Mostly due to the fact that several of them were pushing the plungers on the needles in their arms and I promised myself I’d never inject. No, I could snort, eat and smoke, but I’d never touch needles. Not after seeing what it had done to my parents. Of course I knew I was a big fat hypocrite for getting high then judging them, but I didn’t have any kids depending on me and only occasionally fucked for drugs.
I was pulled out of my introspect by a hand starting to creep up my thigh. Looking down, Forty’s dirty fingernails were caressing my leg where my skirt ended and I cringed a bit before shoving his hand away. “What the fuck, man?”
He looked over at me and smiled. “C’mon Ang, I know you’re almost broke and that was your last rock.” His smile only got more lascivious as he tried to pull the strap of my camisole down my shoulder. “You could earn more…”
Ok, sometimes I fucked for drugs. Forty knew that; I knew that. But I’d always thought he’d have my back and it wouldn’t ever come to that between us. Apparently I was wrong. Standing, I straightened my skirt and grabbed my bag off the floor. “I’ll be back.” I walked to the door and stopped before leaving to turn back. “You’ll get money from me Forty, and that’s all you’ll get.”
Laughing, “And how do you plan to do that, Ang? Get a job?” He laughed so hard at his own joke he almost spilled the forty of beer in his hand.
I fingered the switchblade in my skirt pocket for a second. “Nope. Like I said, you’ll get your money.” With that I left the room, closing the front door as gently behind me as I could; it’s never wise to startle that many people on that many drugs. He’d get his money, and hopefully no one got hurt in the process.
After leaving Forty’s, I walked down Main to the corner of 8 th Avenue, where I ran into Sarah sitting at the bus stop, smoking a cigarette. Seeing me, she grinned, which made the sunburn across the bridge of her nose crinkle. I nodded my “hey” and sat down next to her.
I pulled a smoke from my pack and lit up. “I need to make some money,” I said through the cloud of smoke I let filter from my nose and lips, looking over at her.
She stared at me for a second, and then nodding, she stood up. “Let’s go, then.”
We started walking further down Main, into the heart of town. The late Friday night traffic creeped down the street, casting a glare from the headlights on the glass fronted shops that had long closed up for the night. I only half-listened as she told me all about the latest fight she and her girlfriend had had, focusing more on finding a John.
Sarah stopped talking as we spotted a few drunken college boys smoking out front of The Gatehouse, which was a popular bar for the “parent funded” kind. We had done this a few
“Here,” Forty said as he passed the dirty glass pipe in my direction. “It’s your hit.”
I took it from his hands and put it to my lips, flicking my lighter and melting the little rock at the bottom of the bubble while slowing rolling the pipe back and forth against my lips until a pure, white smoke filled the tube and I started to inhale it slowly, so as to not disturb the slightly boiling crystals at the other end. Lungs full, I sat back and let out the giant plume of smoke, watching it seep into every molecule around me until I was sure the smoke was actually crawling back into my blood through my skin as though it couldn’t stand to be without me for long. The feeling was mutual.
Handing the pipe back to Forty I leaned back into the thread-bare couch we were lounging on and watched the others in their various states of drug use. I didn’t know their names; I knew Forty and that this was his house, but there was no part of me that wanted to know any of the other addicts. Mostly due to the fact that several of them were pushing the plungers on the needles in their arms and I promised myself I’d never inject. No, I could snort, eat and smoke, but I’d never touch needles. Not after seeing what it had done to my parents. Of course I knew I was a big fat hypocrite for getting high then judging them, but I didn’t have any kids depending on me and only occasionally fucked for drugs.
I was pulled out of my introspect by a hand starting to creep up my thigh. Looking down, Forty’s dirty fingernails were caressing my leg where my skirt ended and I cringed a bit before shoving his hand away. “What the fuck, man?”
He looked over at me and smiled. “C’mon Ang, I know you’re almost broke and that was your last rock.” His smile only got more lascivious as he tried to pull the strap of my camisole down my shoulder. “You could earn more…”
Ok, sometimes I fucked for drugs. Forty knew that; I knew that. But I’d always thought he’d have my back and it wouldn’t ever come to that between us. Apparently I was wrong. Standing, I straightened my skirt and grabbed my bag off the floor. “I’ll be back.” I walked to the door and stopped before leaving to turn back. “You’ll get money from me Forty, and that’s all you’ll get.”
Laughing, “And how do you plan to do that, Ang? Get a job?” He laughed so hard at his own joke he almost spilled the forty of beer in his hand.
I fingered the switchblade in my skirt pocket for a second. “Nope. Like I said, you’ll get your money.” With that I left the room, closing the front door as gently behind me as I could; it’s never wise to startle that many people on that many drugs. He’d get his money, and hopefully no one got hurt in the process.
After leaving Forty’s, I walked down Main to the corner of 8 th Avenue, where I ran into Sarah sitting at the bus stop, smoking a cigarette. Seeing me, she grinned, which made the sunburn across the bridge of her nose crinkle. I nodded my “hey” and sat down next to her.
I pulled a smoke from my pack and lit up. “I need to make some money,” I said through the cloud of smoke I let filter from my nose and lips, looking over at her.
She stared at me for a second, and then nodding, she stood up. “Let’s go, then.”
We started walking further down Main, into the heart of town. The late Friday night traffic creeped down the street, casting a glare from the headlights on the glass fronted shops that had long closed up for the night. I only half-listened as she told me all about the latest fight she and her girlfriend had had, focusing more on finding a John.
Sarah stopped talking as we spotted a few drunken college boys smoking out front of The Gatehouse, which was a popular bar for the “parent funded” kind. We had done this a few
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