Extracts
Break On Through - Americanized Version 1998

Written by LA VADE aka Rapsodomy © 1998
Chapter 26 - Run Like The Wind

I can’t remember how I got there, but the next morning, I woke, across the arms of an old armchair, in a house on the edge of the next town.
It was excellent for parties, it was a seedy dump, just a run down shack, but it was situated on its own which meant there were no neighbours to offend with the loud music that we blasted at ungodly hours.
The room was a sea of quilted jackets. We all wore padded skiing-type coats, like some kind of wearable sleeping bag, because, basically, no one ever went home. Days usually just rolled into nights and we rolled along with them. We were like party nomads, travelling from one house to the next and when the parties dried up, we would move on to the next block. As long as we were warm and had money and drugs in our pockets we wanted for nothing else.
I was straightening up, trying to remember who I was through the fog in my head and just as I remembered that the ache in my chest was because Drazik was probably gone for ever. The door opened, and there he stood, like a miracle, like a vision from God Himself, smiling his fantastic smile.
When Drazik smiled it was wonderful, he didn’t do it often, but when he did, it literally took my breath away.
When I realised I wasn’t dreaming, my first thought was of pure joy that he was here with me again and the second was my good God what must I look like? My make-up was probably all over my face and my hair felt like I had a freshly picked pineapple on my head.
Drazik was on the run.
I didn’t know the reason for his arrest; all I knew was that we had to get him out of there.
Everyone decided we would meet in a bar, in a small town, about ten miles away. I had time for a quick shower at home, and then I got back in my car and drove to the prearranged location. When I got there, the bar was full of Drazik’s friends. The word had gone out faster than I’d imagined.
I can remember feeling like shit as I came down and my hangover kicked in, but, at the same time, I somehow felt elated and excited.
While in the rest room, I looked at my drawn, gaunt, empty reflection and thought I looked like half the person I’d been a year earlier. I shrugged it off. I was overjoyed to be with Drazik again. So what if the girl that looked back was a virtual stranger? So what if no one knew me anymore, my parents, my friends, even me? I didn’t like or trust that old me anyway, which was why I was trying so hard to kill her.
All of that day was spent in that out-of-the-way town. We sat around, drank beer, smoked pot, kicked back and relaxed. We fine tuned the plans to get Drazik out of immediate danger, of which I turned out to be a major part, and glad to be. But the most significant thing that happened that day were four words Drazik said directly to me. He leaned in close and whispered, “I need some sex”.

I think I understood at that point that he knew that I knew he was using me, that he had nothing to offer me at all, not in the conventional way but at that point I really didn't care, I felt so damn beyond worthless I knew what he was doing and I wanted it that way.

When darkness fell everyone began leaving the bar. I was to stow Drazik in my car and drive him to a safe house. They chose my car because it was a Pinto and not your average getaway vehicle, and also, because I was fairly new on the scene, my car wouldn’t be recognised by the cops, who always had Drazik’s cars under surveillance. It was evening by the time we arrived at the safe house, which was an empty house that was being renovated to sell. I was feeling tired but I didn’t want to sleep. Minto and Lars, two of Drazik’s best friends, had come with us. We all gathered around the fire and we spent the rest of the evening smoking bush and eating pizza, while Drazik regaled us with the story of how he’d made his bid for freedom.
The night he had given the cops the slip had been unusually foggy, one of those thick summers night fogs, which usually means it’ll be sunny the next day, and once out of the station, had literally disappeared into the night. He had been surprised by the lax security and, on seeing his chance, had just run for it and then just kept on running. As it turned out, he was stoned. When his friends found out he was locked up they’d taken him a pizza for his supper, which they’d laced with the aforementioned bush.
Maybe it was the thought of the cops as they realised they were a lodger short. Maybe it was the image of Drazik zig zagging through the fog around the back streets of town, buzzing like a deranged chainsaw, or maybe it was the bush, but whichever it was, we laughed all night. At least, that’s how I remember it, one big happy blur of smoke, pizza and Drazik all to myself, well almost.
There were a lot of Drazik stories doing the rounds at that time, but I think that that was probably the only time I ever heard him narrate a story himself. There was one story in particular, which stuck in my memory.
Drazik was a talented drug dealer, he was said to sometimes make upwards of $500 in a single night so naturally he was a target for other criminals, especially, in this case, muggers. As the story goes, a young kid approached him outside a club where Drazik had been doing some fairly good trade, and demanded that he hand over the money he had made. Drazik appeared unperturbed and replied “Or else?”
The kid then pulled out a knife and brandished it in front of Drazik and responded, “I’ll cut you.”
Drazik, reportedly, feigned mock surprise pulled out a Colt 45 automatic and pointing it at the horrified boy said casually, “I don’t think so.”
I never ever saw Drazik with a gun but I know the story’s true.

When Drazik came to bed that night he was unusually aggresive. There was a fire in his eyes I hadn't winessed before and I felt something I hadn't felt before either, fear. As I said before, he was usually silent but this night he somehow found his tongue. When I reached over for a condom he shook his head, said "No." and pulled my arm back into my side.
I was about to insist but when I looked at him he had the kind of look in his eye that got me kinda worried. He said, "Do you want me?" I replied that I did.
Then he said in a very cold voice, "Then open your legs as far as they will go."
I complied, he fucked me without the condom, and when he was about to come he slowed down and asked me again, "Do you want me?" When I said yes, he came inside me. I knew it was a test. A test of my loyalty, he was so messed up and insecure I had to prove my loyalty by putting my life on the line, after all, he could have had any and all diseases know to man. Not to mention risking getting pregnant. I really didn't care.

We woke late in the afternoon on the Sunday. We probably would’ve slept all day had Drazik’s friend Bishop not arrived with Jane, to wake us up. Bishop had bought another car, (to keep the cops off the scent). He also bought the local paper and guess who was in it? Luckily, there wasn’t a photograph, only a vague description of Drazik, described as having shoulder length hair. So, guess what? Yeah we cut it off.
Drazik had friends in Tampa. So, we said good bye to Minto and Lars and the four of us headed for the city.
This was a risky venture as the friends were drug dealers, and their house was under near constant surveillance. Bishop parked the car a few blocks from the house but we were still very edgy. I had good reason to be. We’d been there, waiting for Drazik to return, roughly ten minutes, when I noticed a police patrol car turning into the street. Bishop hopped swiftly into the passenger seat and tossed the car keys at me.
Jane and I sat in the rear of the car trying hard not to look like criminals. As luck would have it, the cop didn’t suspect that we were harbouring a fugitive/aiding and abetting and, seeing there was, apparently, no driver drove straight by.
When Drazik came back to the car his pockets were bulging with fresh drug supplies so, after we got the hell out of there, we all went clubbing.
On the way back from Tampa, we decided it would be safer to take the back roads. This turned out to be a somewhat erroneous decision, as firstly, it was a pitch black night, secondly, because we did not have a clue where we were going and thirdly, because we were mortally wrecked on the best part of Drazik’s new stash. Of course, we got lost, but not only that, we managed to ground the car over a ditch while reversing out of a wrong turning, as well. It was so nearly an absolute disaster.
We tried for a while to shift the car ourselves but we soon realised we’d need help. Luckily there were some farmhouses near by. Drazik and Bishop set off in different directions and somehow managed to come back with a farmer each.
We must’ve looked like the weirdest bunch of people. We were all strung out and gibbering about getting the fuck out of there, quickly. We were convinced that, at any minute, a cop car would appear like a demon ghost of the highway. Eventually, with the help of those saintly farmers, we shifted our vehicle and made it back to the safe house without further trouble.
Those weeks were full of drug-infested close shaves and near misses. We were on a deadly roller coaster and it was near full speed.
Periodically, I went home, to wash and change my clothes. My parents never knew where I was and I was never at work. Half my brain knew I was skating on very thin ice but the other half didn’t care. I had become like a shadow, skirting the edges of my own life. One Saturday evening, in Orlando, Drazik told us he’d finally had enough. He was tired of running. He was out of drugs, out of money and out of places to hide. Drazik had no intention of simply handing himself in, he wanted to go down with a fight in his own town and on his own turf.
Through the weeks, it had been my job, as his driver, to protect him from the clutches of the law, but now, it seemed, it was my job to drive him to certain capture. I sat, alone, in the parking lot and watched Drazik walk away from me. I saw him enter the club. A few moments later, I saw the police patrol cars pull up outside. I saw the police rush into the club and, as they bundled Drazik into their cars, I knew then that I’d never see him alive again.

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Written by LA VADE aka Rapsodomy © 1998