The Pits (Part 7)

He ran around some of the rooms on the first floor. He knew there was a second floor, but he’d already made one stupid decision going into the house in the first place. The startled teen was not about to make another mistake by going upstairs where it would be more difficult to escape. Max found a vent just big enough for him to fit in if he sucked in his gut. And it only had one screw of the four it took to hold the vent secure.

            “Dumb decision number two…” he growled to himself. “What a fucking day.”

            Max pushed the vent’s opening over to the left and up and slid into the duct feet first while holding his breath. Only about two seconds after he had slid the vent back down did the front door open, and a tall older man walked in, dragging something behind him.

            ‘He’s pretty built, for an old guy,’ thought Max as the old man picked up what he was dragging by a different spot. Max could see now that it was a person. One of the cultists. The man walked up to the vent.

            ‘Fuck! He found me!’ Max tried to push himself further back into the duct without making noise but found he couldn’t go any further than where he already was. He couldn’t close his eyes, even though he really wanted to. But the man never opened the vent, like Max was expecting him to, which kind of through him off. ‘What’s he doing?’

            SMACK!

            Max nearly vomited at the sight of what lay before him on the other side of the vent. It was one of the cultists. Except his lower jaw was torn off, leaving his tongue dangling where ever gravity decided it should go. His left arm was missing, and he was wearing a bear trap on his right leg like it was the next big fashion trend. The destroyed body in front of Max wasn’t even dead, yet. That was the worst part—at least for Max. The cultist’s eyes were wide and nearly bulging out of his head, staring Max directly in the eyes. He looked like he was trying to scream but was in so much pain that no sound could leave the gaping hole that was once a mouth.

            The half-dead cultist’s blood was pooling quickly around his head, travelling straight for the vent. When Max was finally able to avoid looking at the train wreck of a body on the other side of the vent, he noticed the blood. It was coming toward him.

            ‘What if it gets in here,’ he asked himself. ‘What if the old man tries to open the vent to clean it up? What. The fuck. Do I DO?’

            Max began to panic more at the thought that the blood would seep into the duct. ‘If it gets on me I might leave a trail when I get o-!’ His frantic thoughts were cut off by a splattering of blood, bone, and brain matter hitting him in the face. Max’s eyes shut automatically when he felt the gore paint parts of his face. He wiped it off with his hand and attempted to wipe it off onto the wall of the duct as he looked back towards the cultist.

            He no longer had a head.

            The old man stomped one of his boots onto the dead man’s head, obliterating it on impact.

            Max blinked several times, the understanding of the situation sinking in slowly. The panic Max felt caused his heart to beat faster than it did when he was running through the woods and he felt a scream clawing its’ way up his throat. But before it could be heard someone else began to scream instead.

            “Where am I?” They asked. “Let me the fuck outta here! Please, please, please! I’ll do whatever ya want! Just please let me go!”

            Max could hear the person sobbing. The voice sounded familiar.

            “Look, dude! My friends are out there, somewhere! I gotta find them! I…I think I lost them, and It’s all my fault! Please, you gotta let me go,” the voice went back to uncontrollable bawling for a while, causing the old man to grunt in annoyance and head towards the stairs.

            ‘It’s Gio! It can’t be anyone else. He’s alive! And now that psycho is probably gonna kill him!’ Max looked through the open door. There was a truck parked with the bed closest to the front door. ‘The tail lights are on! The truck is running!’ Max thought for a second about leaving Gio there and taking the old man’s truck. Part of him felt he was justified. Like Gio left them on purpose. And now, Simon was dead.

            “NO!” Gio yelled. “Please don’t… I don’t wanna die… Jesus, please!”

            Hearing that changed Max’s mind. He’d never seen—well, heard—the big bully he called his friend so scared that he suddenly became religious. And maybe Gio lost them on accident like he kind of said a minute ago.

            Max opened the vent, and pulled himself out, getting covered in more blood and gore in the process. He then stood up and stared out of the door at the truck.

            “Last chance, moron,” he whispered. After a few seconds, he took a step forward, actually planning on getting in the truck and driving away. But he heard something akin to a punch being thrown, and Gio stopped crying for a moment. Max’s heart broke. He sighed, turned towards the stairs he told himself he’d never go up, and began walking as quietly as he could.

The Pits (Part 6)

Max rushed through the woods, feeling his heart beating so hard his eardrums echoed in response. He had left the path a while back, thinking he was going the wrong way. Hopefully deviating from the posted trail would ironically provide a better route to safety. But for now, he would just keep running. The last time he stopped to breathe he heard the rustling of leaves and branches behind him. Not sure if it was the wind or the cultists, he went back to running.

            It wasn’t the parking lot, much less his car, but Max finally came upon a place where he might find help. He ran into a clearing that surrounded a two-story house that had a large pile of chopped wood along its right side. Max looked around as he walked toward the house. There were holes in the ground that he didn’t bother looking in. Areas of the land that had been recently covered, and a backhoe left next to one of the large holes.

            This place didn’t make him feel wanted. In Max’s opinion, this was the house of someone who didn’t want to be found. Old, and rickety, as if someone had abandoned it. It looked like someone had built the house themselves one hundred years ago. The windows upstairs were dirty, and boarded up, but surprisingly nothing was actually falling apart. Someone had been maintaining the house. Someone had to live here.

            Max reached the front door, but before knocking on the door he turned back towards the woods. The cultists that had followed him were standing at the edge of the clearing, staring at him. ‘Take a step closer and I’ll knock and unleash whatever hell this has instore on all of us,’ Max thought, hoping they wouldn’t call his silent bluff. He took a step backwards, closer to the door. The cultists ran.

            This solidified Max’s fear about being at that house. There was something wrong here if they wouldn’t come near it. ‘Maybe the people that live here belong to a different cult, and they have problems with each other.’ But even he believed such an idea was stupid.

            Knocking on the door was the scariest thing Max had done until that point of his life. He felt like running. But there was no way he’d make it anywhere safe if he had to run through the woods. Worse still was the thought that he might come across Gio in a worse condition than when he had saw the other boy last. No one answered the door, so Max knocked again, a little bit harder, but hopefully, not hard enough to piss of anyone that lived inside.

            The door opened.

            He was raised to be polite—or, at least, he was when he turned ten years old and moved in with his father. Max was not about to just walk into someone else’s house. However, he did open it a little more with another knock.

            “Hello?” He called. “Is…anyone home?”

            Max’s voice lowered to a whimper at the end of the sentence. As much as he, and his friends, needed help, he prayed that he never had to find out. Though, he decided to weigh his options.

            Go inside, and probably be murdered for trespassing.

            Close the door, wait on the porch, and hope the owner came back soon.

            Or, take his chances in the woods, again.

            “What if they didn’t know I was in there?” He wasn’t really considering it at the time but hearing himself say it out lout made him think that might not be a bad idea. But the did try to talk himself out of it. “If this were a horror movie, I’d be yelling at me for thinking this was a good idea.”

            Max looked around the property again, then back at the cultists who were hiding behind foliage at the tree line, watching. He sighed, “I don’t think I have a choice.” He took a few steps into the house, once again looked at his stalkers, then closed the door. Max turned around, looking at the back door, which was visible from the front door, and had to clap his hands over his mouth to keep from screaming. One of the cultists was standing at the back door, his face only an inch or two away from the glass, not moving. This wouldn’t be a great time to wet himself, not that there was a good time that he could think of. Max forced tried to force himself to calm down but was having trouble doing so.

            He saw something move in the corner of his left eye, and slowly turned his head to face the wall in the next room. There were four cultists standing closely to the two windows, looking in just as the first one was. For once, Max noticed that they were all wearing different masks. They were definitely similar; however, each had different shapes and symbols stitched into them. They looked like transmutation circles that Max had seen in a book about alchemy, once.

            They all stood still for a few minutes; their constant staring making Max tear up, knowing what they wanted of him. Then, suddenly, they just left. And quickly. The darted off into the trees again. And Max didn’t have a good feeling about that.

            It was time to move.

The Pits (Part 5)

More than caught up. Max did a complete three-hundred sixty degree turn to see that he and Simon were surrounded. By this time, Simon was beginning to hyperventilate, but forced himself to slow his breathing. ‘At least Gio got away,’ said Max in his head. Although, he’d much have preferred to have escaped as well. He put his back to Simon’s. The last thing he wanted was for one of them to grab him, even though it was likely to happen anyway. Being back-to-back with Simon was like being backed against a door with another killer on the other side. In other words: not much help.

“What do you guys want?” Simon asked, shocking everyone including himself. Just a minute ago, he was having trouble breathing correctly.

“We want you,” said one of the other cultists with a very feminine, but firm voice.

At the same time, all of the cultists pointed at Simon and Max, repeating the words “We want you”, although they were out of sync. Their voice started low, but grew louder and louder making Max somehow feel as if walls were closing in on him. It didn’t take long before Max couldn’t take it anymore.

“SHUT UP!” he yelled before grabbing Simon’s trembling arm and attempting to run through the circle of people towards the part of the trail that turned left at the fork. He barreled through the two people who had tried to create a wall by standing side-by-side. Simon wasn’t as lucky. The same people grabbed him by the arm that Max wasn’t holding onto, and pulled him away from Max.

Simon’s arm slipped out of Max’s hand, and before he could go back and reach for Simon one of the bigger people in the group picked his friend up and threw him over his shoulder.

“If you want your friend, you’ll come with us,” the big one murmured in the deepest voice Max had ever heard. They stood there staring at Max to see what he would do.

“Run!” Simon yelled to Max. “It’ll be harder for them to catch you now!”

“Bu—”

“Fucking GO!”

For once, Simon was the scariest person around, yelling in a way that Max had only heard once before. Flashbacks of his parent’s worst fight resulting in his father finally leaving them for good played throughout his brain before One of the cultists took a step forward to reach out for Max, who took a quick step back.

“Sorry, Simon…” he said as he turned and ran down the path. ‘I guess I can leave my best friend. Must not be as good a person as I thought I was.’

“Why would you tell him to leave you?” the leader of the cult asked while watching Max run downhill and out of sight.

“No sense us both getting caught,” Simon quietly answered. “Besides, I was keeping something from him, too. So, I guess he and I are even.”

“And what would that be?” The leader turned to face Simon as he lay draped across the large man’s shoulder.

‘I wanted to die, anyway,’ Simon thought returning the leader’s gaze. “Don’t worry about it.”

“It seems to me as if you have a death wish. Most people in your situation would be kicking, screaming, and begging for their friends’ help.”

“I take it you’ve done this before,” Simon said trying to sound as defiant as his friends had earlier in the evening.

“Yes. To everyone here. And it was done to me, as well. I needed to be shown the righteous path.”
            “Great…”

“I would like to show you the same, if you would allow me. We can mentor you and show you how to live a better life.” The cult leader held his hand out toward Simon as if to shake his hand.

Simon stared at the hand in front of him for a second before glaring at the leader.

“I’d rather die.”

The leader lowered his hand, and began walking away. “Gabriel?”

“Yes, Father?” the large man carrying Simon turned to face the leader as he walked away. The man apparently known as Father stopped suddenly, and without turning around, spoke.

“Give him what he wants.”

Father continued to walk back into the woods with a small group of other members of the cult. The other cultists continued after Max, leaving Gabriel alone with Simon.

“Well, come on th—” Before Simon could finish his sentence, Gabriel grabbed Simon by the legs, reared up, flinging Simon over and face-first into the ground. Simon was now blinded with dirt—not that he could see much before this incident—and refused to open his

eyes to face his murderer. He felt Gabriel stomp of his stomach a few times, then felt the large man’s breath against his face.

            “Too bad I have ta kill ya,” he began. “Your kinda cute.”

            Simon could barely cough out a response before Gabriel rolled him over and slammed his face into the rock next to Simon’s head.

            Once…Twice…

            Gabriel then picked up the rock and bashed it against Simon’s major joints, breaking several bones in the process. Simon didn’t feel all of the pain that was being inflicted as he passed out when Gabriel broke his right arm. And soon after, he slowly stopped breathing.

            Gabriel giggled. “When you’re dead, you’ll be a pretty present for Father. Maybe he’ll hang ya up like he did the last guy and I’ll get ta see ya some more.” 

The Pits (Part 4)

Max had never been through this particular side trail before, and wasn’t sure which way to go when he and Simon reached a fork in the path. Where had Gio gone? Max couldn’t blame him for not wanting the stop for Simon, but why would he lead them down this trail when Gio knew he was the only one of the three who had used it before. There was no time to stop and think about which way they should go. It wasn’t like Max was going to stop if he didn’t need to. For a moment he considered going one direction and letting Simon go the other. That way at least one of them would survive. But Simon probably wouldn’t make it far, even if he was going the right way.

            ‘No, we’re going together,’ Max thought. ‘But where the hell do we go?’

            Before he could come up with an answer, Max heard a loud thud behind him, and a second later, Simon screaming out in pain in a way Max had never heard come from a person before. Max stopped and turned around expecting to see Simon’s ankle had been sprained. If only that was the case. Simon was on the ground, writhing in pain in the dirt, bleeding profusely from his leg, right above his knee.

            It was another arrow.

“Holy shit!” exclaimed Max. He figured the cultists must be close if they were able to hit Simon with an arrow. There would be no way Simon could run with an arrow in his leg. However, if he took the arrow out, which he knew from watching hospital shows he probably shouldn’t do, Simon would at least have a chance. Sure he’d be bleeding everywhere, leaving a trail, but they were never trying to be stealthy.

“Hold still,” Max said as he knelt down, feeling a familiar aching twinge from when something similar happened to him.

He reached out to the arrow head and began to twist it counterclockwise. This arrow was the type that could be changed from a safety arrow to a hunting arrow by changing the head. Max unscrewed the sharp, bladed arrow head, and removed it.

“What are you doing?” Simon asked frantically through clenched teeth.

“Something you’re totally gonna hate me for,” answered Max.

“What?”

Max sighed, “You can’t run with an arrow in your leg. It’ll just make the wound worse, probably. But, if I take it out, you will be able to run. It’s gonna hurt, but not as much as it would with an arrow stuck in your leg.”

“No!” Simon began to resist. The idea of having the arrow pulled out of his leg was almost as scary as knowing he’d been shot with one.

“Look at me, Simon,” Max looked Simon in the eyes, trying to stay calm as possible. “I wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t necessary.”

“O-okay…” Simon knew he was right. If he didn’t want to die this would be his only chance.

“Take a deep breath,” Max whispered. “And try not to yell too much.”

“Why? They already know where we are.”

“I know. I just don’t wanna feel bad for this.”

Simon rolled his eyes, then immediately shut them as tight as he could when he felt the intense pain shooting up and down his leg.

“Sorry…” said Max.

“Hurry up!”

With that, Max slid the arrow all the way out of the hole it had made in Simon’s leg. He then took the folded bandana off his wrist and tied it tightly around the wound.

“You never told me why you always where that around your wrist,” Simon mentioned.

“Across for attention, down or results…” Max muttered.

“…What?”

“How about this, I’ll tell you everything I’ve been keeping from you and Gio when we get out of here. Deal?”

“Deal,” Simon said doing his best to stand up. ‘Just ignore the pain, Simon. Don’t let it bother you.’

Simon took a couple of steps to acclimate himself to the pain he’d be dealing with when the thought occurred to him. “Wait, what have you been keeping from us?”

“Not the time, Simon. Besides, it doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

“Then why haven’t you told us about…whatever it is?”
            Max looked at the ground, then up and Simon, who he could barely see now that the sun was fully set. “It’s just…embarrassing.”

“What’s embarrassing?” asked an oddly familiar voice.

Simon and Max looked around. Although it was dark, and they couldn’t see much of anything, they already knew what was going on.

The cultists had caught up to them.

The Pits (part 3)

“Who said you could leave?” the man asked calmly. Though his voice thundered through the trees and startled the boys who were now looking for the fastest way out of the forest.

            Simon flinched and attempted to look away. Max and Gio stared down at the group who were likely angry that their cult’s ritual had been interrupted. It didn’t help that this pause was being dragged on by the man who acted as if he was the leader.

            Gio scanned the area, only moving his eyes. He didn’t want to make it obvious that he was trying to find an escape route. His eyes stopped suddenly on a small path that, unlike the trail he and his friends were standing on, was unpaved. It was covered by a thicker canopy of trees than the main trail had. Giovanni followed it his eyes to see where it went. Although, he was sure he already knew, and didn’t like the feeling in his stomach that came with knowing. The smaller trail seemed to have a steep decline and curved to the right behind a few larger trees. The other end wasn’t visible from his vantage point, but he knew where it led. Straight to where the cultists were standing.

            “We’re gonna have to make a run for it,” Gio whispered to Max and Simon. “There’s a trail like, ten feet ahead, that we’re gonna have to run past. Which means they don’t have far to go to catch up to us.”

            “Got it,” Max whispered back.

            “Um…guys?” Simon whimpered while taking a step back.

            “Max and Gio looked to Simon, expecting him to continue talking. When they saw the terrified look on his face they looked in the direction that Sion was facing. There were silhouettes of people just behind the tree line seemingly hiding behind almost every tree. Max couldn’t stand it anymore. He hated that a simple walk in an area that he and his friends had frequented since they were kids was suddenly becoming their worst nightmare. It was time to go.

            “Go, go, GO!” Max yelled to his friends. “Don’t look back!”

            The three friends took off running back down the main trail, towards the area they had come from not too long ago. Max decided that the people who were now chasing them could not run forever. All he had to do was outrun them. When they got closer to his car he would ready his keys, unlock the car as they were running towards it, and then lock it when they got in, so they could drive off. And preferably, never come back to the Pits again.

            “Shit!” Simon yelled.

            “What?” Gio said back, refusing to turn to look at Simon.

            “One of my contacts fell out!”

            “The other one didn’t, though. So, keep moving!” Max chimed in. There was no way he was going to get slaughtered because of a lost contact lens.

            Max suddenly had a thought. Simon was never a very fast runner. If he had been, he would have had fewer encounters with Gio back when they hated each other that resulted in Simon crying to his parents. ‘What if he can’t make it to the car? What if they catch him? Can I really live with myself if I leave him behind?’ Max thought to himself. If he was being honest, he was always closer to Simon than Gio, but Max had already escaped one horrible situation with his mom’s ex-boyfriend, and he really didn’t want to have to go through something like that again.

            “Max! Shortcut or nah?!” yelled Gio sounding frustrated. Max began to wonder how long his friend had been talking to him as he looked towards the unpaved side trail that Gio was talking about. It bypassed a lot of the main trail, but still led towards the parking lot where they had left their car. However, it was narrow, and some of the trees and bushes in that area were overgrown. The obstacles the trail provided weren’t exactly needed, especially in this situation, but it was a faster route.

            “Yeah, take the shortcut!” said Max. He didn’t really have to Gio and Simon were already headed that direction anyway, veering off the main path.

            ‘I hope I don’t regret this…” Max glanced back to see where the cultists were. He could see a small group of them leaving the pack of wolves that called themselves human, and dashing through the woods. ‘They’re trying to flank us.’

            “Don’t slow down!” he yelled to his friends. “Looks like they found their own shortcut.”

            Upon hearing this horrible news, Simon began sobbing. His other contact lens had fallen out, and without them he could barely see where he was going. Through his tears he attempted to focus on Gio’s back. The anime character on the back of Gio’s shirt was about the only thing that Simon could make out at this point. ‘If I make it out of this alive, I’ll be an even bigger fan of the show than Gio!’

            They three boys had only made it about half way back to the park when Max realized something: It was quiet. Up until this point he could hear the cultists crushing dead leaves under their feet and yelling to each other every now and then to let the others know where Gio was leading his friends. Now, the only noise was coming from Gio, Max, and Simon who was still crying. Just as Simon realized that it sounded as if the people hunting them ha left them alone he slowed to a stop. Gio didn’t stop, but Simon didn’t care. As far as he knew it was over.

            “Why did you stop?!” Max asked Simon.

            “I can’t hear them anymore,” Simon replied. “I think they’ve stopped chasing us.”

            “Or, more likely, that’s what they want us to think, and this is a trap.”

            “I don’t think so. My hearing’s a lot better then my eyesight. I can hear things from a further distance than a lot of other people.”

            “Oh, so you’re bragging now? Not the time, dude.”

            “No, I’m not bra—” Simon interrupted himself. He turned around to see the shape of an animal. “What’s that?”

            “It’s a deer. And it looks like it’s wondering why we stopped running,” Max was getting annoyed.

            The deer abruptly reared up on its hind legs as if something had spooked it. But before it’s front legs could touch the ground again it let out a suppressed squeal. Blood began to leak out of it’s left eye socket, where only seconds ago an eyeball resided. There was an arrow protruding from the newly vacated socket, and from the back of its head. The deer collapsed to the ground.

            “We shouldn’t have stopped running…” Max mumbled to himself. “Let’s go!”

            “Yeah,” Simon agreed turning to run behind Max. Simon wasn’t entirely sure what he’d just seen, but it did not look good. “I’m sorry, Max…” Simon said tearing up again.

            “It’s fine. Just keep moving!”

The Pits (part 1)

“I’m just saying, going to college and getting a degree doesn’t mean you’ll be that much better off than someone else,” said Max stepping over a fallen tree branch.

He had been discussing the pros and cons with Simon the entire time they had been walking the trails in a place called “The Pits”, while Giovanni followed behind them, eyes glued to his phone.

“Well, yeah,” started Simon. “But it does mean that you’ll be more likely to get better jobs. And the more degrees you have, the more you get paid. Relative to other people with the same job, anyway.”

Max rolled his eyes. “More likely? That’s all?”

“Um, yes?” replied Simon.

“I don’t like putting work into something that might result in me not getting what I want,” said Max. “Besides, I don’t even know what I wanna do with my life.”

“You have, like, four years to figure that out, man,” said Giovanni finally participating in the conversation. “In the meantime, do either one of you guys wanna answer my question?”

Simon stopped walking and turned around to face Giovanni. “What question? Gio, you haven’t said anything since we picked you up!”

“You two seemed so busy freaking out about your futures that asking why they call this place the Pits seemed random.”

Max chuckled to himself, “When has being random ever bothered you? That’s pretty much your thing.”

“Questions usually require answers,” Gio said furrowing his brow. “For once, I couldn’t find the answer on Google, because apparently nobody cares about parks, and by extension the miles of trails in the woods behind them.”

“I’m guessing it has to do with all of the pits and the dried-up river bed that make walking out here dangerous if you’re not paying attention,” Simon said cynically. “Or maybe it’s because of the cave on the other side of the woods. There’s literally a bunch of pits near the entrance, so getting in is a bitch.”

Gio and Max stood staring shocked at their friend.

“What?” Simon asked. “What’re you looking at? Did I spill mustard on my shirt again?”

“First of all, learn to eat a hotdog,” Gio said.

“Second,” started Max. “Aww! Our little Simon’s all grown up, now! Seriously, who knew there were any curse words in your vocabulary.”

Both Max and Giovanni couldn’t help but laugh at that. Simon had always been the good kid; always nice to everyone, and a perfect teacher’s pet. And Gio was the polar opposite. He met Simon in fifth grade, and decided he didn’t like Simon when the teacher began asking why Gio couldn’t act like Simon. One could say they had a love hate relationship. They hated each other, but Giovanni loved to torture Simon.

 Fortunately for Simon, the bullying came to an end two years later when they were forced to do a group project about dwarf planets in the solar system with Max, who had just moved to their school. Simon got his lowest grade ever, and eighty-nine, Gio got his highest grade ever, and Max found two new friends. Which was one more than he’d had at his last school, since most people didn’t like that most of his jokes were based on sarcasm at the expense of others.

            “Don’t patronize me…” Simon mumbled. “Just because you’ve never heard me say those kinds of things doesn’t mean I can’t.”

            “True, but…” Gio began to say, before trailing off. He was staring past Simon into the trees.

            Max couldn’t see what Gio was looking at. The sun was beginning to set, and with the thick canopy of trees covering the trail—and Max’s less than perfect vision—he couldn’t see much if it was too far away. “Gio, what are you staring at?”

            “Jeogi namja-nun namudul-ae il-eo seoseo…” Gio answered in Korean, as he did when he was confused, or angry.

            “What?” Max asked looking at his friend, feeling an unusual amount of concern. He had never heard Gio say something like that in the five years they had known each other.

            “He’s speaking Korean,” Simon told Max. “It’s his native language.”

            “Okay, but what—”

            “I don’t know. I have no idea what he’s talking about.” Simon turned his attention back to Gio, “Also, don’t call me when you’re drunk anymore. I felt bad that your dog pissed on your laptop, but I didn’t know what you wanted me to do about it, so I went back to sleep.”

            Max raised an eyebrow at Simon’s statement. “But he doesn’t have a dog.”

            “So, what? He just pissed on his own laptop?” Simon asked incredulously.

            He looked at Gio, then back to Max realizing that it was entirely possible as Gio was definitely wasted the night before. “Oh, my God, he pissed on his laptop. Exactly how drunk were you last night?!”

            “Very, but in my defense, the pain meds I found in my mom’s medicine cabinet probably didn’t help.” Gio looked away from the trees.

            “You need to go to rehab…” Max mumbled.

            “I was kidding! Chill out, bro. Hey, you guys ready to head back? It’s getting kinda dark out.”

            “Yeah, the last time I was here at night, I almost got attacked by deer. I don’t think I’m about that life.” Gio laughed at Max’s comment. The thought of him getting chased by a deer was funnier than it probably should’ve been.