"Get in the van!" Orson yelled to all of us. Nemo gently placed the dog on the ground and barreled into the back, pulling Baz in and slamming the sliding door behind them. I rushed over and leapt into the passenger seat.
Nemo found the keys on the candy man and threw them at us. With Orson at the driver's wheel, we took off.
Supra didn't even bother to follow. And why would they? They knew the situation was going to solve itself now. We were absolutely, and completely, fucked.
My fingers shook. I looked in the back of the van. Baz was on top of the candy man, shoving his hands in the dead man's pockets.
"What are you doing?" I asked with a weak voice.
"There has to be candy somewhere. Old men love keeping it in their pockets. So I've heard." He was acting as if nothing had just happened. I didn't know what to do.
"What sort of life did you live before the asylum?" I asked Baz. My voice shook. Why was I asking this? It wasn't important. Not right now, at least.
"Oh, Basil lived quite the silver spoon life. A perfect little prince in his mansion, killing nannies," Orson said. He also looked calm. Too calm. Why were all acting like nothing had happened? Maybe it didn't. It was all so fast.
"There's no candy anywhere," Baz huffed, crawling off the candy man and giving him a kick to the ribs in the process.
"We aren't taking him with us," I said. My voice sounded farther away than it should.
"Huh?" Baz asked innocently, trying and failing to not look at the dead body. "Oh, him? Pfft, yeah, no. Of course not. We couldn't. He can't walk very well. I mean, Nemo could carry him. He's rather thin. I'm not sure he was eating well, but he doesn't have to worry about that now. Do you, Gerald?"
"Don't name him," I said. My hands were shaking, so I threaded them together and shoved them between my knees. Orson took a sharp turn, and we all fell over.
"Careful!" Baz snapped, rearranging Gerald so he was sitting upright. He leaned in and whispered something to the corpsebefore sharing a small laugh with it. Reaching out, I grabbed Baz’s wrist.
"Baz, you have us now. You don't need him."
"Oh, so now I can't have friends?" He pulled his arm from my grip quickly.
"I'm your friend," Nemo said. Why was Baz acting like nothing happened? Why were all of us? We'd never acted like this before.
"No, you're my bitch," Baz said dismissively, adjusting Gerald's shirt. Nemo launched himself at Baz, wrestling with him.
"Oh my god, he's going to fuck me!" Baz yelled.
"Baz doth protest too much," Orson mumbled. Nemo finally got to the body, opened the sliding door, and shoved Gerald onto the pavement. The back tires crested the body, and we were all flung around wildly.
"Problem solved," Nemo growled, slamming the sliding door shut again.
"Rude," Baz said. "What did you say, Orson?"
"I was saying you want Nemo to fuck you," he said. The van went deathly silent. Orson's face bloomed in a smile, pleased perhaps with upsetting people—like any therapist would—or possibly blissful that there was finally silence.
I swallowed thickly. This was all so normal, but I didn't feel normal at all. I felt like a character acting out a play. My eyes went back and forth between Nemo and Baz. They were sitting in the back of the van as still as statues. The air was thick with tension.
"What does he know?" Baz finally said.
"You mean, what does your long-term therapist know about your inner workings?" I clarified. Baz crossed his arms and turned away from Nemo.
"Do you—" Nemo started.
"Let’s talk about something more important," Baz said, puncturing our little act like a popped balloon. I swallowed thickly.
"You said twenty-four hours after injection?" He asked. Twenty-four hours until the serum would change him forever. My lip trembled, and I squeezed my knees tighter against my shaking hands. It had really happened.
"Yes."
"I did suggest staying inside was for the best," Baz sighed behind his mask. "Hate to say I told you so but…"
