Oh, Green World, Don't Desert Me Now

[Rictor]

((One week after Rictor's escape from The Right))

Rictor pulled his truck to the side of the road, driving through the dirt and kicking up a big cloud in the still summer air. He got out and slammed the door, staring at the public restrooms about fifty feet off the highway.

He was wearing a baggy pinstriped button down shirt and a pair of oversized brown corduroy pants - the man he had stolen the truck from was apparently a big guy. There were no shoes in the car, unfortunately, and he had wound up barefoot again.

Walking to the restrooms, he noticed another car parked further along the dirt path. It was an SUV with a big ASU sticker on the back window. Rictor looked around for its drivers, but couldn't see them.

He reached the restrooms and turned the corner into the Men's area, and walking out were six young men, a little older than he, all of them carrying beer bottles. As they brushed past him, paying him no mind whatsoever, one dropped their bottle on the cement, where it clattered but didn't break. He turned and watched them walk out and back towards their car. As they finished their beers, the five remaining tossed them into the patches of grass and onto the dirt walkway.

"You gonna throw those out?"

The group turned and looked at Rictor. A few of them laughed, then they all started chuckling. One of them stepped forward. Rictor noticed they were all wearing either shirts or hats that said TKE on them. There were few humans Rictor hated more than spoiled white frat boys.

"What?" the one who stepped forward asked. He kicked one of the bottles at Rictor and smirked. It skidded through the dirt and came to a rest against Rictor's bare foot.

Rictor bent and picked up the bottle. "I said, Are you going to throw these out?"

"Why don't you shove it up your ass, hippy?" The young man cocked his head to the side and smiled. His buddies laughed too quickly and too loudly. "Yeah, Kyle!" yelled one of them.

"I don't have to." The cup began to shake in Rictor's hand - first a crack split the glass up one side, then, suddenly, the entire thing shattered into a fine powder and fell to the ground. "We mutants are good for the environment."

"You freak!" shouted Kyle.

"You humans, on the other hand, are a plague. A disease, spoiling and ruining the world we are poised to inherit." Rictor stepped towards the group.

The frat boys shuffled their feet, unsure of what direction or action to take. Kyle looked back at his friends for support, but taking his eyes off of Rictor was a fatal mistake. The mutant grasped Kyles arm by the elbow and immediately Kyle's arm began to shake and vibrate. He moaned and then howled in horror and pain as his elbow shattered. His friends scattered, shouting and swearing. They ran back to their car, looking over their shoulders the whole way.

Kyle collapsed to his knees, tears streaming down his face. He turned and gasped in terror as he heard the group's SUV start up.
"No! Don't leave me here!" he howled at them.
The SUV kicked up dirt and sped down the dirt path, skidded as it hit the highway pavement, and soon was on its way, going eighty miles per hour away from Kyle and Rictor.

Rictor laughed as Kyle broke down, sobbing and gasping for air. "Please, please...don't kill me..." Kyle said.

"Don't worry, mono. I'm not gonna kill you." He kicked at Kyle's shattered arm, eliciting a scream and knocking Kyle to his side. "Empty your pockets."

Kyle scrambled to push up on his one good arm and pull the contents of his pockets out. A wallet and a few crumpled bills spilled into the dirt, and Kyle made a show of pulling his pocket inside out so Rictor could see nothing remained. "Give them to me," Rictor said.

Kyle panted as squirmed in the dirt, maneuvering himself to pick up the items and hand them up to Rictor. He finally managed it and the mutant snatched them from his hand. He flipped through the wallet, pulling out the credit cards and cash, then threw the rest back at Kyle.

Rictor stuffed the cash and cards into his pocket, then crouched down next to Kyle. He reached out a hand and Kyle scuttled backwards, digging his heels into the dirt and using his one hand for support. Rictor placed a hand to the ground and smiled.

The pebbles and dirt around Kyle began to bounce up and down, and soon his hand slid out from beneath him, the dirt no longer proving solid ground. He fell on his back, and as he did, Rictor was upon him. The mutant jumped onto the frat boy's chest, placing his hands on either side of his head.

Kyle battered at Rictor with his one hand, punching him in the side, but it mattered little. "Please," he uttered one last time, "you said you wouldn't..."

"I lied, mono. I lied."

[Rictor]

((Two weeks after Rictor's escape from The Right))

Rictor emerged from his much-needed shower and stepped across his hotel room still naked. He toweled off his head and face, then threw the towel to the floor.

He grabbed the duffel bag off the floor by the bed and threw it atop the mussed up sheets. He opened the bag and pulled out some of his new clothes. The frat boys credit cards had been extremely helpful until they were canceled. Rictor had gotten in a good deal of shopping before then, however, and had a bunch of fun new items.

He had bought:
Four pairs of socks.
Three graphic tee shirts.
One white button down shirt.
One black army jacket.
One black and blue titanium air jacket.
One black long sleeve shirt.
One pair of dark brown khakis.
Three pairs of dark blue jeans.
One pair of black hiking boots.
And best of all, a brand new Honda Hawk-GT bike.

The reason he remembered the list in such a way was simple - it entailed all his earthly possessions. The fact that he had killed an innocent - albeit pompous - person to get them didn't bother him at all. In his mind, dying was the one good thing that human had ever done. He had never done such shopping in his life, and every second he browsed through the expensive stores, buying the latest and most costly fashions, was bliss. (And yes, he had forgotten to buy underwear.)

He pulled a tee shirt over his head, its fabric scratching against his roughly shaved head. He yanked up a pair of jeans and followed with socks and his boots.

Since the cards had been canceled, Rictor could only assume the transactions had also been traced. He began to throw his dirty clothes from around the room back into the duffel. It was dumb of them to cancel the cards before they moved in...unless...

He ran to the window, brushing the beige curtains aside with both hands. Four cop cars sat parked outside his window.

"Fuck!" he screamed.

They were so quiet! So fast! So smart... He had thought he was better than this. He had kept the cash, used up the cards, used fake names, but it wasn't...he wasn't...

"I wasn't smart enough," he said aloud.

"JULIO RICHTOR! THIS IS THE ELKO POLICE. COME OUTSIDE WITH YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR. WE HAVE YOUR ROOM AND YOUR VEHICLE SURROUNDED. NO ONE HAS TO GET HURT. JUST COME OUTSIDE WITH YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR."

Rictor walked over to the bed and grabbed the duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder.

He walked over to the door and heard footsteps outside. Squealing tires in the parking lot. Murmuring officers and static from car radios. It all sounded like the end to him.

I still have something none of you have.

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Six Elko SWAT officers flanked Rictor's door, waiting on the order to enter.

"Do you feel that, Marino?" one of them asked.

"What?"

"Yeah, I feel it too," said another one. "What is-"

The door exploded outward, showering the officers with splinters of wood. They would have been blinded if not for the goggles they all wore. The wood sliced into their unprotected faces, embedding itself in their cheeks and jaws.

"Jesus Christ!" Marino screamed. He fired a shot into the ground on impulse, then staggered backwards with a hand to his face. Two of the SWAT members were on their knees, prying the shattered wood from their faces. Suddenly one of the officers was screaming in agony, and the other three looked up to find their partner shaking violently, the suspect's hand grasping his head from behind. He dropped the officer and grabbed Marino's gun. Marino tried to yank it away, and when he did, the barrel broke off in the suspect's hand.

"What-" Marino started, but his words were silenced by Rictor's fist. Rictor turned back to the other two officers-

And was hit with three rounds in the stomach.