Escaping the Whirlwind (part 4) THE END

The two boys ran toward the door like pieces of paper on fire in the wind. They were snuffed out. Pulled by their jackets from behind. Billy, being a little more agile than Jerry, decided to fake compliance long enough for security to drop their guard and make a break for his truck. He was gunna have to leave Jerry behind but Jerry would understand. He would do the same. Afterall, everyone knew that there were no true friends amongst them. When it came down to it, it was every man for himself. They were social addicts, supporting each other's vices, weaknesses, downfalls.
Billy got the car started and threw the gear shift violently into reverse, slamming on the gas. After impacting security's golf cart that had blocked him in, he knew he was fucked.

"Get out of the car! NOW!"

Billy marched slowly but surprisingly out of handcuffs back toward the casino. Why had they trusted him enough to keep him out of cuffs? Maybe they had none. Maybe their budget didn't allow for it. Billy was calming down. Something had happened. There was a beginning, middle and an end. There had been a beautiful introduction into the casino, a terrifying internal conflict of anxiety at the bar, a brief resolution of Jerry finding him once again, an action sequence of trying to outrun the security officers, and finally the sad ending; getting caught. Billy still didn't know what they had done.

"Have a seat young man."

Billy was taken to a small security office hidden behind the bathrooms at the back of the casino. Jerry was already sitting down talking to a transvestite prostitute, apparently in more trouble than they were.

"We're prepared to let you guys go if you can find someone to pick you up. Despite the uh, little incident in the parking lot, we appreciate your patronage and hope you two can come back some time and maybe not drink so much eh?"

After calling Billy's roomate Allen and getting a long lecture on drinking, resposibility, and whatever else Allen thought might be appropriate, Billy was given a stern, "Fuck You!" Dylan was the next and last possibility. Dylan would be the only one awake and in good humor enough to laugh at the matter and still come to the rescue. After getting dropped off at his house, Billy felt tired, beaten, relieved, and alone. Some may have guessed he passed out on the floor, not able to make it to his bedroom, but Billy knew it was a conscious choice. The floor reflected the isolation he felt from the world, the regret he felt for his actions that evening, and fear of slipping into his bed, staring at the ceiling, so far away, with the wind howling outside, cold and mean, angry at Billy for having gotten away with it all once again. The world wanted him dead and he knew it. It was all after him and it was using boredom and hatred as its weapon. The floor was his white flag of surrender. Adriana, she just kept running. Running as fast as she could hoping that time and consequence would never be able to catch up with her. Dylan was a pacifist. He let the tanks of adulthood, responsibility, opportunity, obligation, social expectation, all those tanks just rolled right over him, squishing him into nothing leaving no headstone to ever suggest that he had been alive. Jerry was the joker. He laughed at death, at responsibility, at everything, and was a legend to a small group of people. Billy knew that when they were all older and Jerry would die of a heart attack at the age of 54, they would all attempt to find one another again, and pretend that it all mattered somehow by recalling moments of excitement and laughter. They would all get drunk together one more time and everyone at the party would trade stories of what they had been up to in the last 25 years, secretly competing for whose child was the most successful, whose job was the highest paying or most exciting. Who had been to Europe? Who was the worst off? Forgetting of coarse that the answer to that was Jerry, who was not able to attend.
Billy did eventually make it to his bed feeling safe and warm. He had a wife. He had a decent job. He could see the milestones in his head and those things made him feel safe. He had climbed up a mountain, ever looking down to see what demons had followed him up. He knew they were still some coming. Maybe the one's that got Jerry so unexpectedly. The top of the mountain was endless. All he saw was fog and snow caps. But he could run. He was in better shape. He felt stronger. He had no friends. They were old or dead and somewhere beneath him on the mountain asking for directions, shivering in the cold. "Everyman for himself." Billy said this aloud before continuing up the endless cliff huffing and puffing, carrying pictures of his wife and two daughters. As he ached along, waiting for something new to come his way, the only thing keeping him from getting shot in the back by figures in the shadows was a continuing sprint and jostle toward the unknown.

The End