#gonna watch some parts Unknown before having a smoke and a salt bath and going to bed hella early

[lupismaris]

Shout out to my beloved budtenders for always having my back I barely have to say anything and they take care of me I love them so

[abalonetea]

Just Keep Breathing: Chapter Three

I was partnered with @the-dot for the @originalfictionbigbang​! Thank you for working with me, Dot!

Here is the first chapter! I’ve split the first 10k words between four chapters, and will be posting them all in a masterpost in just a moment!

Summary: It’s the height of storm season and everyone in Hi-Banks, Florida is getting ready for the bad weather. It should be a year like any other - but on the tails of a national pandemic, a new disaster strikes. More than one new disasters. So many disasters that Eddie Carver would like to put some of them back, thanks. He’s just a down on his luck guy living in the local trailer park with his boyfriend. He’s not interested in dealing with the revival of an old murder case - which he knows nothing about, thanks -, the storm season of the century, or…zombies?

Yeah. Absolutely not interested in the zombies.

This black-comedy follows the inner workings of a small town as they band together to survive, and the young man - reckless, mean, angry, written off b the big city folk come to look into a cold case - that might hold all of societies survival in his hands.

Forget about society.Eddie’s only interested in keeping his friends alive.

Chapter Three – The Troubles Begin

“ - the riot appears to have originated inside of an office building in Toledo, where the CEO of Marino Corps was evidently thrown from the top floor window. The cause of the riot is unknown, but it has grown both in number and in scale of violence. The hospitals in the area are overflowing with victims, many of whom are suffering from bite wounds - “

Click.

“ - and if the tropical storm continues on this path, it will run directly in front of Hurricane Beth. The resulting storm will make land fall with Florida - “

Click.

“ - is the streak of violence we’re currently seeing in large cities a result of drugs, a side affect of the vaccine, or something else entirely? Today on The Sooty Orange we’re going to discuss - “

Click.

Carson groans. “Everything sucks. Just hit the radio.”

Eddie stretches over and clicks on the radio instead, oldies crooning into the quiet trailer park. “Man, why is it so hard to just find something fun to watch, huh? What happened to playing movies and stuff?”

“Dunno. It’s a real drag first thing in the morning, though,” says Carson. They’ve got a spread of coffee in mismatched cracked mugs on the little table in front of them, along with a few microwaved breakfast burritos and an open bag of sweet chili pepper flavored chips. “You work today?”

“Yeah, I’ve got to hit up the garage this evening.”

“Ugh. So we still aren’t going to get the truck up?”

“Part might be in today. I’ll check on it,” says Eddie.

They aren’t talking about the news and they aren’t talking about the agents, and that’s just facts. They didn’t need to speak about it. They just both sort of came to that conclusion. No point in discussing something that can’t be changed, and Eddie won’t say a word on the Mulborne case, not even to Carson.

They eat and change and head off on their own separate ways, passing Bonnie Barker and her dog Poncho on the way out of the trailer park. She waves at them and the dog goes nuts barking. It’s cloudy and gross out, and Eddie has a really bad feeling that it’s just going to be a bad damn day.

* * *

The little black car is parked outside of the mechanic shop, and the moment that Eddie gets close to it none other than Agent Russo steps out. He’s got this awful slicked back hair and a stupidly expensive looking suit. The other agent isn’t there.

“Ugh. You again?” Eddie squints at him and sucks on his front teeth. “I told you, man, I don’t know anything about the Mulborne case.”

“Something tells me that’s not the truth. I’ve looked into you, Eddie Burke. In and out of trouble for years. You’ve got a record a mile long, and you were the last recorded person seen speaking to those missing tourists,” says Russo. “I think that the two of us need to have a little talk.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t.” Eddie makes to walk in past him but the agent grabs him by the elbow, wrenching him to the side. “Hey! Get the Hell off of me, man!”

“I don’t know how you people do it out here, but let me tell you this,” says Russo. “When I say we need to have a talk, it’s not something that’s up for debate.”

A sharp whistle splits through the air. “Alright, boys. That’s enough. You want to talk to him, you get here with a warrant or you do it off my property,” says Penny. “That’s how it works around here, boy. And you, Eddie, you get to work. I got a car that needs the tires changed out, pronto.”

Eddie jerks his arm out of Russo’s grip, flips him off, and scurries into the garage. There’s not actually a car needing the tires changed so he mostly just loiters around until Penny comes inside, shaking her head.

“This is a whole lot of bad business that we don’t need to be dealing with right now,” says Penny, clucking her tongue. “I don’t like that man poking around none. You think someone needs to go out and give Benny a heads up?”

Eddie hops up onto one of the counters. “No way. Benny’s on his own.”

Penny purses her lips. “Neighborly.”

“Hey, I ain’t neighbors with him,” says Eddie. “You want to hike all the way out there for this, you be my guest. I’ve got enough that I’m dealing with. You been keeping track of this storm?”

“Yeah,” says Penny. “We’ll have to close up shop if it gets too much closer.”

“Red’s still planning on going out to his cabin. That dumbass.”

“Really? I don’t think I’d want to go out in this kind of weather.”

“You’re telling me,” mutters Eddie. “Hey, do you actually have work for me today?”

Penny gives him another pinched smile. “Yep. You’re gonna work on my boat motor. Put those skinny fingers of yours to good use for a change.”

Eddie groans. He hates working on boats but – cash is cash, he supposes.

* * *

Eddie swings by the gas station on the way home from work to buy a six pack. TJ’s working and Rat’s hanging off him out at the front counter, the door to the beak room blocked open with a tire iron and the grainy box screen style TV showing off the national news; the riots are spreading across the country, hitting every major city. There’s talk of it possibly being related to the vaccine or even a new street drug that’s being passed around, something similar to a hyped up bath salt.

“That’s stupid,” says Rat. “I’ve done those before, and no one out in some big city pent house is going to snort bath salts.”

“Coke,” says TJ.

Rat squints at him. “Coke doesn’t make you bite people.”

“Nah,” says TJ. He lights a cigarette. “But that’s what they do, you know. At those fancy parts. Snort coke.”

“Gimme one of those.” Eddie wiggles his fingers at the pack.

Rat pipes in, “oh, if he’s having one, I want one too!”

TJ grouses and grumbles but passes them each a smoke. “You owe me for that.”

Rat sticks out his tongue. “Join the club. I owe everyone.”

“Man, after the day I had, I deserve one of these. You all seen those feds running around?” Eddie asks. “Can you believe they’re out here about Benny?”

Rat perks up. He’s actually pretty good friends with Benny, even despite everything that’s happened. “What, really?”

The bell above the door chimes and they glance over almost as a group, only for Smith to come walking in. She heads for the back of the store, grabbing a few things from the little center rack where all the pre packaged and over priced sandwiches only tourists buy are at.

And sure, maybe the smart thing to do would be to just shut up, and stay quiet, and let the whole thing blow over, but Eddie’s never been particularly smart. He’s sharp and mean and good with his fists, and he scuttles across the gas station, still clutching his bummed cigarette, just so he can get right up in Smith’s face and tell her, “you need to make that little attack dog of yours back the Hell off. I didn’t do shit, you hear me?”

Smith, clutching a plastic wrapped chunk of carrot cake pulls back. “Excuse me?”

“I said that you need to back off. I don’t care who the Hell you people are. If that asshole shows up at my work again, I’m gonna clock him,” says Eddie, all teeth, and from the other side of the gas station Rat crows with laughter.

“Shit! Did you have the feds sicced on you?” Rat jams his cigarette out against the top of the counter. “That’s a trip!”

“I – have no idea what you’re talking about,” says Smith.

“Yeah, I totally believe that.” Eddie takes a step back, takes a drag off his cigarette. “You people come tearing in here and start shit, but you know what? No one around here is gonna put up with that. We got enough troubles happening. We don’t need you dragging up old ghosts that are already put in the ground.”

“What? No, that’s not – we already discussed that,” says Smith, shaking her head. “I didn’t realize that he was going to try and follow up on a dead lead. I’m very sorry. If there was an issue with your work place because of this, I can – I’ll happily speak with them tomorrow.”

The apology is so out of the blue that it takes Eddie off guard. He freezes, glances over at the counter. TJ shrugs his shoulders.

Smith continues, “we’re not looking to cause issues for anyone. We’re just doing our job, same as anyone else. I’ll speak with Russo. It won’t happen again.”

She steps around Eddie, all neat as can be, pays for her wares, and leaves. Just like that. As if it’s all nothing.

In the wake of it, Eddie sidles back up to the counter and puts out his cigarette in the little fish shaped ash tray. “I’m outta here. Just ring me up for the beer.”

TJ does, the chime of the register, and says, “I don’t know. I think I would’ve spilled the beans already.”

“You say anything to those agents, I’ll break your face,” warns Eddie, the words a sort of harshness that only comes from fear. “You got that?”

Rat cheerfully chimes in, “I’ll totally help.”