Luca: Dope SickMature

The night before was a blur of going from one good feeling to another. I hung onto that stubbornly. The thought that Sophia might end up pregnant was not one I wanted to entertain.

It didn’t take long to find a drugstore. Blondie was tailing along behind me, wondering what the urgency was. I’d only let him join me because Sophia wouldn’t let me leave until I had someone with me. I figured he could prove himself while we were at it, but the town was dead. Literally. Piles of bodies lined the streets, not one of them moving.

I suppose I should’ve been relieved, but I had more important things to be dealing with. Besides that, it was just plain creepy.

“So what’s your name?” Blondie asked, skittering along behind me, trying to keep up. He was almost as short as Rayn. Not quite though. He still had a couple inches on Rayn. Maybe more. I couldn’t even remember.

“Cancer, to you,” I grunted.

“Cancer? That’s an odd name.”

“Because I am a lot like a cancer,” I growled. It felt more true than ever. If Sophia ended up pregnant, it would be my fault, and it would be the death of her.

“That’s very negative,” Blondie mused, turning his pale blue eyes on me, squinting like he was trying to figure out why I’d ended up this way.

“Have you got a name?” I asked maybe a little too quickly, trying to get away from the topic.


“Now who’s got the weird ass name?” He stopped trying to make conversation after that, keeping watch as I broke down the door to the drugstore.

The place was nearly empty. Not a vial of morphine in sight, or a morning after pill.

“Where are they?” I roared. Lazarus looked over at me, worried as I put a dent in one of the empty shelving units.

“Where are what?” he asked tentatively.

“None of your fucking business!” I yelled at him. I threw the shelving unit to the floor, angry at myself, angry at the world and for a split second, angry at Sophia. She knew I wasn’t sober, she could’ve reminded me to use a fucking condom. “Just keep watch,” I growled.


We raided a few abandoned cars to see what we could find after that. Lazarus didn’t utter another word, looking a bit like a rabbit caught in headlights every time I looked at him. I needed a hit, badly. The pain in my arm wasn’t bothering me much, I was more concerned by the sickness slowly creeping in, and it wasn’t a hangover.

“One of these cars has to have some codeine in it,” I grumbled to myself, irritable, “something. Anything.”

Lazarus glanced at me.

“What?” I snapped.

“Nothing,” he nearly squeaked, “I’ll go look for some.” I looked up, and sure enough, he was off searching another car, though whether he was looking for drugs or not, I couldn’t say. Either way, he came back empty handed.

So with only a bag or so of tinned food and a pregnancy test tucked away in the waistband of my pants out of Blondie’s sight, we made our way back, Blondie shooting me anxious glances as I slowed, burning up and dope sick. 

The End

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