The Extinct by Victor Methos

hers. Tears were streaming down her face but she kept speaking in a soft voice and held Jeff’s face gently. His eyes, bloodshot and full of hate, came up to hers. Her almond eyes soothed him.
    “Let him go,” she said softly, “let him go my darling, let him go.”
    Jeff squeezed harder, gritting his teeth, nearly crushing Eric’s throat, and then let go. He stood up, knocking the table over as he stormed out. The red wine flowed over the ground as Eric felt his mother’s hands caressing his face. He began to violently cough and his throat burned as he took in a deep breath.
    “It’s okay,” his mother was saying, wiping at the tears that were dropping down onto his face. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”
    Once he was able to breathe regularly, Eric stood up, his head pounding, and walked out of the house, saying nothing to his mother who he was sure just saved his life.

 
     
    CHAPTER
    11
     
     
    Concord New Hampshire was warm but the cool mountain breeze helped. There were few cars out; it was Sunday and people either went to church or stayed home watching sports. There were only two gyms in town and both were going bankrupt; it wasn’t a city that focused on fitness or outward appearance. Though the tourism boards liked to say so, the outdoors didn’t hold any fascination for the people that lived here. Only the tourists packed the ski slopes and the hiking trails. Most natives held some resentment for the tourists. They all stayed in areas the natives couldn’t afford, and enjoyed things natives didn’t have time for. The tourists were the elite and only interacted with locals when they were waiters or pumping gas or cleaning hotel rooms.
    Eric Holden was a local but he didn’t hate the tourists. In a way, he never really felt at home here and identified more with the tourists anyway.
    He sat on top of a grassy knoll outside the dorms, reading an old copy of A Farewell to Arms and sipping a vodka and orange juice. The bruises and cuts on his face were nearly healed but he was convinced they’d been slowed by the alcohol; he’d been drunk every day since his father’s death.
    Wendy left messages for awhile but those had stopped. He had no intention of calling her back; suddenly, everyone seemed dull. It was like something was weighing him down, making it harder and harder to do anything. Worse he had no desire to do anything, except drink.
    A car pulled into the parking lot and stopped at the curb. Wendy got out wearing her tennis outfit and walked over, casually sitting next to him.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey.”
“Jason told me. I’m sorry Eric,” she said.
“I’ll be fine. I just need some time.”
“How much time?”
“I don’t know. I don’t feel right, you know? I’m just kind of always uncomfortable.”
“My mom’s flying out to Switzerland in a couple weeks and I’m going with her. Would you want to come?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
    “I think it would help.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I’ll be here when you need. Just call me, even if it’s like three in morning.”
    “Thanks.”
    She kissed him once more and then rose to leave. She blew him a kiss as she pulled away and he forced a smile and turned back to his drink.
    He wasn’t sure what love was but he thought maybe he loved her. She understood him in a way few others did. When he said he wanted to be left alone, she left him alone and didn’t keep urging him to talk.
    The front entrance to the dorms opened and Jason came out in a sweat-suit. He sat on the grass next to Eric but didn’t say anything; just took a sip of his drink, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling of a breeze against his face. “I haven’t seen you in biology for awhile,” Jason said.
“I haven’t gone to any classes for a couple weeks.”
“It’s not even 10 in the morning and you’re already drunk, I can tell by the way you talk.”
“So?”
    “For me that’d be normal. Fuck Eric, I know where I’m goin’. I barely