Suckers and Spitters - Ch.4

Chapter 4
Bitten Lips and Shovel Tips

    An explosion of the senses!
    Booming, thunderous melodies shake the room around us, flashing lights exciting the mind as the throng of human bodies twist and swirl, merging into a single mass of simple existence. The sounds are deafening. The beat takes control of my heart—our hearts—forcing them into a synchronous rhythm. Every high bass beat slams into the crowd like a wave. The pure smells of exhausted, moving, bounding human bodies. Sweat mixing with saliva, tears and blood. The feeling of brushing into new people with every step.
    Feet push against the ground.
    Bodies push up against bodies.
    People dance in a drunken stupor—drunk on alcohol, ecstasy, life.
    My brother stands beside me, his shaking shoulders so close. We move from a metal platform, hovering above the collection of people, and make out way down the stairs into the excitement. In mere moments the ever-moving throng absorbs us. Men and women of various ages push against us, enticing us, teasing us, playing with us.
    A woman's hair brushes past my nostrils. She smells good.
    Ebenezer takes the wrist of my fishnet shirt and drags me through the crowd. I can see that he's trying to speak to me, but his words are lost to the music.
    We pass around one person and then another, guiding our way through the gaps present in the polyamorous being that seems to have overtaken the individuals all around. It isn't just a pair of twins in an underground club anymore. It's one set of equal minds and separate personalities meeting an even larger one.
    We arrive, quite suddenly, at an empty booth, red velvet lining the seats against the black wood and metal. A circular black marble table is clear but for a stray ring that seems to have bounced away from the group, the white and grey designs swirling into the black, separating and reconnecting. Ebenezer and I manage to squeeze our ways past the first few seats and into the booth, both of us clearly laughing but neither of us able to hear the other.
    "Quite a lot of people!" I cry, trying to overtake the rest of the room.
    "What?"
    "I said, there's a lot of people here!"
    "I know, right? Isn't it great?" Ebenezer excitedly drums his palms against the marble table and I feel his feet repeatedly banging against the ground to the same rhythm, barely brushing against my leg. "I knew this was going to be awesome but I had no idea!"
    For a moment the two of us just stare out into the crowd, wrapped in the notion that all is going perfectly according to plan.
    Ebenezer pulls on my ear to get my attention.
    "You want a drink?" he asks, making only half of what he's said come out over the music—the rest understood from the movement of his lips and his head methodically cocking to one side, signalling the bar at the end of the room.
    I give a quick nod and off my brother vanishes, pushing through the crowd, the throng dispersing for only a second before collapsing back in like a wave and sealing us apart.
    Patiently waiting for him to return, my gaze shifts back to the rest of the patrons.
    I'm the observant brother.
    I quietly watch their twisting forms as they shift about and contort together and apart again. Women curl their middles and twist their arms around. Men shuffle their weight to either side, arms moving up and down, heads swinging side to side. Bodies caress against one another, form fitting to a counterpart. Figures stroke the necks of others, pulling them close in anticipated ecstasy before pushing them away again in obvious revulsion.
    Bounding to the beat. Pounding their feet.
    Mixing pools of black, red and white. Skin no different than the clothes on a person's body. Tight fabrics give no sense of mystery to the forms and frames of contorting bodies. Bent knees and thrusting hips weave into the crevices of the human form, bodies fitting perfectly together like pieces in a biological puzzle.
    Convulsing. Kissing. Biting. Twisting. Twirling. Swirling.
    The music plays around the room, narrating the tribal instincts.
    A blonde girl pushes her way from the crowd, disassociating herself with the mass being. A metal chain hangs from her neck and is tucked into her low tank top. A multilayered skirt over fishnets and combat boots. Piercing after piercing. She pushes her way into the booth and up beside me. "Hi," she sighs. Her voice is mature and soft yet somehow audible against the music. "You feel like dancing?"
    I glance towards the bar where Ebenezer vanished. For a moment I can't find him but then his brown and black outfit stands against the red bar and I soon find him. He's leaned against the bar, seemingly still waiting for drinks. Someone is standing beside him—a man in a long jacket, most of his face hidden by a large upturned collar.
    They're talking.
    "I'm sort of… waiting for someone." I can't even hear my own voice against the background.
    She hears me. She moans with disappointment. "Aw. A girlfriend?"
    "Brother."
    The girl looks excited. "Oh! Well if it's a brother then I'm all for sticking around. So where is this brother of yours?"
    I point out towards the bar and she follows my finger. Ebenezer has turned around now. He's leaning against the bar, talking with the man beside him. Even at a distance, our blood relation is apparent, if only for our hair colour. I know that she's seen him when she presses against me and growls under her breath, amused.
    "Well, he seems to be a little preoccupied now doesn't he?" she muses, tussling my hair lightly with her fore and middle fingers. "In the meantime, it's not fair that you have to sit alone and just wait for him to finish his conversation. So? How about you and I have a little conversation of our own?"
    She reaches for the collar around my neck and fiddles with the chain link.
    I shrug. "Forgot my chain."
    "That's all right," she smiles. "You can have the end of mine." Grabbing my hand, she closes my fingers around the end of the chain wrapped around her neck and with a fluid heave out of the booth, she curls her arms around me and we mingle with the rest of the crowd.
    I feel myself embraced by her arms, moving me to the beat of the music playing. She's shorter than me. My hands hover at my sides, my feet beginning to shift back and forth to available spaces on the floor. I feel her hands work their way up and down my side, inching behind the flaps of my open jacket, her breasts pressed against me as she sways.
    She turns and presses herself against me, twisting her frame to fit my own, and I push my arms down across his skin.
    Warmth rises from the dancing mass. Bodies push and press against us, compacting us together. I feel my temperature rise from the heat.
    Dancing so close.
    I feel myself getting excited. Warmth stretches from my inside, working its way out and heating me from the core. Blood rushes to my lower extremities. I find myself glad that I wore loose pants and the more I dance the more I repeat to myself—Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!—in reassurance that I made a good choice.
    Chain in hand, I pull and curl it around my wrist, bringing my dance partner around to face me. She smiles as my hand creeps to the nape of her neck and her arms follow the contours of my waist around to my back. Our bodies connect and swing and sway to the music, turning, bumping, heat flowing so evenly that there is no difference between our two forms.
    She locks her hands at my neck, her elbows against my sides and still she looks up at me. She leans in… and that's when I notice him.
    The man Ebenezer was talking with.
    Ebenezer.
    The two of them are heading for the backdoor, but Ebenezer's not going willingly. He looks as though he's being dragged. I can see him trying to pull away as the stranger takes hold of his shirt from the back, reaching over his head, and then pulls him through the door.
    My mind is a whirl of confusion. I see possibilities of terrible things happening to Ebenezer; all the while I stay here and dance with a girl I don't even know.
    Every fibre of my beings wants to follow them. But every blood cell in my erection wants me to stay and keep dancing.
    I push the girl away quickly, retracting my hands. She looks confused and all I can blurt out is "I'm sorry. I've got to go,"—probably inaudible with the music—as I move away. And before she can even react I part the crowd and hurry after them.
    Making my way through the crowd is difficult. Not simply for the mosh pit action, but more for the uncomfortable sensation of running while excited. Any man who's had to run with a hard mickey knows exactly what I mean. After existing the main mass of bodies, I manage to calm myself and struggle my way to the backdoor.
    Beyond the door is a stairway leading up—back up to the surface. Two doors are at the top. One leads outside, the other further into the building. The first is locked.
    I open the backdoor slightly and peek through. An alley waits outside.
    "Let go of me!"
    My eyes snap to attention. It's Ebenezer's voice!
    Pushing myself through the door as quietly as I can, I press myself against an overhanging wall. From around the corner I hear feet knocking trashcans, hands tearing at clothes, thrown punches and struggling. But I can hear him. Ebenezer. He's throwing the punches—I can tell from his breathing.
    I peer around the brick corner. A few meters away Ebenezer and the stranger stand, their hands clasped tight around the shoulders of the other's clothing. They're pushing at each other, each trying to get the upper hand. Ebenezer keeps pushing, using his legs against the wall to back his attacker up. But the stranger is strong and despite my brother's attempts, he manages to keep him under control, pressing his shoulders back against the brick wall.
    The stranger is tall and thin. Black and white striped pants. White shirt. Brown vest. Black jacket. His hair is a dark brown and his skin is a faded tan.
    Ebenezer lashes out and smacks him in the side of the head with the back of his hand, not letting go of his jacket. He does the same thing over and over again, his knuckles connecting at different points of the stranger's face; all the while his attacker shaking them off like they were nothing. I can hear the frustration in his voice.
    And the panic.
    "You sick motherfu--!" Ebenezer bellows before knocked aside.
    The stranger throws my brother away like a rag doll. I watch, helplessly, as Ebenezer crashes into a collection of trashcans and screams out in surprise. The cans move away from him as he struggles to his feet, pushing them aside, but he isn't able to gather himself or even stand before the strange reaches down and takes him by the scruff of his neck.
    Up he lifts Ebenezer, slamming him hard into the brick wall. Ebenezer kicks his legs out, pushing on his chest and trying to connect with some weak point or another.
    He pulls him away and slams him back into the wall. Again and again.
    I can hear my brother's breathing.
    I can hear my heart beating out of my chest.
    But I just stand there, staring at this stranger as he hurts my brother.
    Finally it stops and the attacker ends with dropping Ebenezer to the ground. Ebenezer's disoriented. He sits there for a second, head lolling from one side to another. He's trying to make sense of the situation—just as I am—but nothing seems to be playing out right.
    Then the attacker leans down and picks Ebenezer up again. The fighting, the struggling, the screaming has all subsided. Ebenezer dangles there, feet off the ground, effortlessly held up by the stranger. All he can do is clutch the stranger's arm, gritting his teeth and breathing out in solid panicked exhales.
    Breathing. I can't shake the attacker's breath.
    Ebenezer's breathing is panicked, confused and strained.
    The stranger's breathing is nervous… breathless… hungry.
    He pins Ebenezer against the brick wall—making it impossible for him to lash—and pushes his face to the side with one arm. Ebenezer exhales hard in quick blows. Nothing but angry, fearful breathing.
    Growling.
    The stranger growls, maybe even gargles, under his breath. It's barely audible but it's so noticeable.
    I can feel my legs ready to give way. My entire body shakes uncontrollably. Beads of sweat collect in the creases of my hands. My palms become wet and I can feel my hair matting to my scalp. I've never been so scared. The sensation is overwhelming.
    My foot gives way and slips off the landing for the back door entrance.
    Instantly, I recoil, turning away from Ebenezer and the stranger and pressing myself so hard against the brick wall that I could feel the unique layout of every brick digging into my skin through the back of my jacket. Without Ebenezer at my side, I take a note from my brother and instinctively cover my mouth to silence my heavy breathing. For a moment I'm able to trick myself into thinking it's going to be okay, but my relaxation is short lived when I hear the stranger release Ebenezer's shirt and twist away from him.
    Feet stomping across the ground.
    I can't see a thing but the bricks in front of me and they too disappear when I close my eyes and tilt my head back.
    The most gut-retching snarl emanates from beyond my senses. I find it hard to believe that a human being could make such a horrible sound.
    Behind that there is a subtle clicking.
    I can't tell what it is. I'm not even sure that I want to.
    My senses are numb.
    I feel so helpless.
    Snarling. Thrashing. Heavy breathing. All come from the stranger. My brother's breathing is choked and confused.
    Keeping my hand over my mouth, I start to turn and glance around the side of the wall. Slowly. So very slowly. I can feel my body trembling. It takes me a moment to realise that my eyes haven't opened yet. Be it that they don't want to or that I've gone blind with fear, I force myself to focus my eyesight. Everything blurs for a moment before I'm finally able to catch sight of Ebenezer's attacker.
    He's away from the wall now. His hands are up at his head. He repeatedly wipes at his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket. Sniffing angrily, he rubs first at his mouth and then at his eyes. Then he places his palms against his head, gritting his teeth and breathing hard through his tight jaws. I almost scream with him as he grips his head and leans down, bellowing out loud. He slams his palms against his forehead, furious, and then starts to tear at his shiny black hair.
    "God! Why is this happening?" he says. His voice is almost a shock to me. It's so twisted and forced. His voice makes him seem so much older than he looks. But as he growls and grits his teeth I can hear the strain in everything he says.
    The stranger brings his arms to his side and moves towards Ebenezer again.
    I watch as he picks my poor brother up one more time and slams him into the wall.
    "Why is this happening!?" he screams, saliva spraying from his mouth. He's drooling.
    Ebenezer has one final line of attack. I never saw him pick up the bottle but I watch as he raises it up and above the attacker's head. The screech that comes from the stranger is so ear shattering that my hand finally leaves my mouth to cover them. Ebenezer is finally released and stumbles away, flailing his arms about and throwing the last of the broken bottle in his hand at the dark-haired stranger.
    Then he starts to run.
    Feet smacking the ground hard, Ebenezer makes a break for it down the alley. He comes in my direction and as he does so I begin to rise to my feet. I urge myself to leave the protection of the back door and take a quick step out and off the stoop as Ebenezer approaches.
    Our eyes meet.
    I've never seen him so terrified.
    Neither of us had time to react. I only catch a quick glimpse as the attack overtakes my brother. He was so fast. I never saw him rise. Never saw him start to run. But soon he's found my brother's neck and he's pushing him to the ground, a knee in his side, howling like a banshee.
    My foot slips off the stoop as I try to back up. I watch in horror as the stranger turns my brother onto his back and pins him against the ground. This isn't the same man as before. He body contorts in ways that shouldn't be possible for a human being. His fingers are bony. I thought he was pale before but there is no comparison to now.
    But what I can't shake are his teeth. They aren't human teeth. His canines descend as his mouth opens and I can see his other teeth pulling away from his mouth as he snarls. His tongue curls wickedly around them, feeling the indentations and the sharp points. They must be an inch long.
    He bites my brother.
    Ebenezer screams in terror.
    I can hear his gnashing teeth. I can hear him sinking his teeth into my brother's neck. Ebenezer's arms are pinned to the ground and his feet kick madly at air, desperately trying to find something. Anything! And the growling doesn't stop when the stranger's face vanishes in his fit of rage. It only grows louder, shaking my knees by its sheer volume!
    All the while Ebenezer screams. I can hear him crying. I know he's in pain. I know it hurts. He's choking back tears and perhaps even pleas of mercy. Where the stranger's hands hold his wrists down, I can see blood as my brother frantically tries to escape.
    My heart is beating out of my chest. I feel as though I'm going to have a heart attack! And what will happen when this vicious man turns attention away from my brother? Will he come after me? Will Ebenezer even be alive when that happens? I can feel the fear welling up inside me. I know, as I helplessly listen to my brother's screaming, that we were going to die. Tears cloud my vision and it becomes hard to breathe.
    Gasping for air. I turn away, trying to get my footing, sniffling and brushing at my eyes with my arms. And when I finally open them again I see our last hope.
    A shovel. A broken, dirty shovel, lying so close.
    I can't even be sure of what's happening anymore. As Ebenezer's screams start to die away my body seems to act on its own.
    Disregarding my pounding heart and my breathlessness, I scramble to my feet, using my hands on the concrete to support myself. I reach for the shovel as the same time as I run for it. I whirl as I grab it and the world becomes a blur.
    I see my brother on the ground. I see the shovel in hand. I see his attacker. Taking the shovel in both hands, I raise it above my head and make a beeline for them. Then, in one fluid motion, I stop in front of the stranger and bring the shovel down on top of his head.
    His head recoils as he shrieks in shock.
    I manage to steady myself and swing the shovel around for a second time. I bring it from the side and strike him square on the nose, sending him backwards and off of my brother.
    The stranger hits the ground hard and he writhes where he lies, shrieking and hollering into the darkness. He squirms and wriggles, as though he's not sure of what's just happened. I march over to the disoriented monster, carrying the spade with me, and then bring it down on him once more, clutching it in only one hand and steadying myself with my mother arm.
    Yelling and thrashing about, somehow he manages to grab it. I can't even fully comprehend his movements from the sheer speed of them.
    I'm pulled forward as he yanks the shovel out of my hands. There's a sudden hot white flash as he turns it to the side and pushes the wooden handle hard into my nose. I fall backwards and hit the ground hard. I must have landed on something because a quick shot of pain rises from my tailbone and I roll onto my side, coughing. My eyes shoot open as I inhale suddenly and I cough a few more times. My face hurts.
    Above me the stranger stands in a flash and screeches furiously, lurching back and ripping at his jacket. I curl my body and cover my ears, gritting my teeth, just wishing he'd stop.
    Words almost break through the madness. He screams at me. He screams at my brother. He hollers and shrieks in some unknown dialect of insanity and I can hear him twirling, tearing at his skin, gnashing his teeth and perhaps even crying.
    His footsteps dance on spot for a moment and just as I'm certain he's about to bring the shovel down upon me in retaliation, I hear him shriek like some sort of wild animal. Then nothing.
    It takes me a moment to collect myself. My hands are still pressed firmly against my ears. I can feel my fingers against my temple. I'm not shaking anymore but I don't feel any better for it. What feels like an hour passes before I dare loosen my grip.
    Groaning, I roll onto my stomach, both of my hands cupping over my nose. Why the nose? Why is it whenever I get hit it's always in the nose?
    For a long time I can't move. My whole body is resting on my knees. Eventually I press my forehead against the concrete and sort of bob in place. Then, when it finally dawns on me that my cupped hands are pooling with blood, I push myself up from my waist and sit firmly on my bent knees, still leaning forward, still clutching around my face with my hands.
    There's a metallic taste in my mouth.
    I remove my hands and lean forward, spitting. A globule of blood and saliva drips from my mouth, a trail of spit still connecting us after it's already hit the ground. Looking down at them, my hands are also covered in blood, the majority of it melted into the joints where the hands and fingers attach. Disgusted, I take the base of my thumb and wipe my mouth from either side, curling my fingers away.
    Coughing.
    My head rears up. Too fast. I lose track of the world in a blurry mess for a moment.
    When my vision stabilizes itself I can see Ebenezer, lying on his back. One knee is bent up. As his foot skids across the ground it becomes clear that he must be trying to get up. Breathing out, it's almost like he's sighing and I nearly catch my own name, strained in his weakness.
    He's alive.
    I've never felt so relieved in my life.
    However, in that relief, a numbness I hadn't been aware was there begins to fade and I feel the pain from my side, my back and my nose all collect together in the same instant. My head rolls against my neck as everything suddenly becomes too heavy to hold up. I watch the world melt away as my eyes roll back into my head and I feel myself falling to the side, landing back on the ground, coughing up and exhaling hard.
    Before everything collapses around me, I find myself thinking "why is it always the nose?" and then I sink into the sweet numbness of unconsciousness.