What Have I Become?

The wind and the phone wires made a tattletale sound as a wave of cold broke over the railing of a highway overpass in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. A tired and stumbling lone figure turned his dirty shirt collar up to block the sudden chill that swept over him. At the edge of the pass, under the only working streetlamp nearby, the figure stopped and looked over the side to the ground below. It didn't matter how many times he looked over that railing those past eight months, it still gave him a shiver of fear. He let out the breath of air he was holding and swung his leg over the ledge.

"Here goes nothing," he muttered under his breath. He inched his way over the railing, holding on for dear life until his feet dangled above the long drop below. Gripping tighter he felt his feet along the underside of the ledge.

"Where... is it?" he grumbled and whimpered. Finally his foot caught on something solid. A small, makeshift rope ladder was tied off below, just wide enough for two boots to slip into. He let out a sigh of relief and started making his way down the ladder. "I'll never get used to this."

Halfway down a familiar voice shouted up to him from underneath the overpass. "Who be dat? Better not be some fuckin' crackhead comin' to try and steal old Billy Bong's stash again!"

"No Billy, it's just Rizzo," the descending man said as he looked down to the grizzled middle aged man.

"G. Rizzo, well if it ain't my favorite smack addict!" He smiled up at him before tossing his "home defense," an old crowbar, into the darkness where it clattered and slid to a stop. "C'mon down my boy, let's get you out of this cold."

Rizzo shivered once more at the thought of the day he would slip off this ladder. He glanced once more up at the tattered rope before following Billy around a tarp hung from the railings. Once around he was greeted to a welcoming and familiar sight. Three tarps and a concrete slab made up four walls of a warm and cozy shelter, a barrel of wood and garbage burning in the center. The ageing man had also dragged down an old couch and a couple of dirty recliners, one of which was occupied by a passed out boy wearing practically nothing.

"Don't mind him, he's just another smart customer like yourself who knows there are more ways than money to get what I got." Billy plopped himself into his favorite recliner and motioned for Rizzo to follow suit. Rizzo slid his backpack off and sat gingerly down on a very old Victorian era chair near the barrel.

Once he appeared settled Billy smiled wide at Rizzo, his golden brown teeth glinting in the firelight. "So Gordon, how's life been treatin' ya?"

Rizzo shrugged as his rubbed his hands over the fire, trying to get any feeling he had before back. "Don't call me Gordon, Billy. But life's okay I guess. Couple of dickheads came and forced me out from under my bridge."

"Aww, well ain't that a cryin' shame," Billy said with no hint of sympathy in his voice. "Is that why you're here? Need a place to stay for the night?"

"Well that would be mighty kind of you Billy, and before you even say anything, yes I can pay you for your... 'hospitality.'" Rizzo grinned halfheartedly at the bridge dweller. "And... I seem to have prematurely run out of my stash, maybe we can do up a little of that pineapple?"

"Oh baby, well you come to the right spot!" Billy reached around behind his chair and pulled out a small duffle bag. "I always got the good stuff." He unzipped it and started pulling various objects from within. Before the blink of an eye a bottle of water, a spoon, cotton swab, Zippo lighter, two small syringes and two little plastic baggies were spread out on Billy's lap. "Sorry Riz, I only got one clean needle tonight."

Rizzo shrugged and said, "No worries. I'm pretty surprised I don't have dirty blood already."

"Well just sit back and warm up, have that cash ready, and let old Billy take care of you." He turned his attention back down to his lap. He dabbled a chunk of the brown stuff from one bag, and a bit of powder from the other into the spoon with a little bit of water and started heating it up over the lighter. Once satisfied with his work Billy dropped the cotton end of the swab into the spoon, and sucked the dirty yellow-brown liquid into the obviously used syringe, using the cotton to filter out any chunks on the spoon. He lifted up the syringe to the light and tapped it while squirting a tiny amount from the needle, so air wouldn't get in the blood vessel.

Billy jumped up from his chair and stood over his new house guest. He held out the needle for Rizzo, but pulled it back out of his reach when he extended his hand to grab it. "Ah, ah, ah! Dough before dope, boy."

"Jeezus Billy, no need to be a dick. I'm hurtin' here!" Rizzo complained, but he still reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of dirty bills. Billy snatched the whole wad from his hand and set the syringe down on the arm of Rizzo's chair. He quickly grabbed it up, pulled off his shirt, and whipped his belt off before tightening it around his arm. He gave his arm a couple smacks and found the vein. He glanced once more up at Billy who was too busy counting his new money, before pressing the needle into his body. It took him a moment to hit the rolling vein, but once he felt it hit, he pulled back the plunger of the needle and "drove it home" as it were.

As soon as the pale liquid hit his blood, he could feel the pleasure jump up his arm with each increasing beat of his heart. "C'mon baby. C'mon, let me feel it again..." He whispered to the drug coursing through his body. A wave of dull euphoria washed over him, although it wasn't enough. It was never the same as the first time, yet he had kept coming back to try.

"I hope you don't fuck like you slam, Rizzo. Otherwise you'd never get it in!" Through the overcoming haze, he could see Billy standing above him, smirking. "That Horse and Amphetamine mix really fucks you up, huh dumbshit?"

Billy looked down at the completely out of it man before him. "Pfft, fuckin' fool." He shook his "friend" to make sure he wasn't lucid before he started rummaging through his pockets. He didn't find much, but the couple spare dollars and golden pocket watch were a nice find. "Thank you, kind sir!" Billy said with a bow. Opening the watch, a small picture fell out. Billy picked it up and stuffed it into his own pocket. He turned around and made his way back to his chair, but was stopped in front of it by a gut wrenching sound. He swung around and grimaced at the convulsing body of Rizzo, disgusting, viscous bile was trying to be coughed up from his mouth, only to be sucked into his lungs with each rattling breath.

Billy ran over and kneeled beside him and made to roll him over so he could cough out the vile liquid. He put his hands underneath his body, but that's as far as he got. He glanced over at Rizzo's pack and then down at his boots. Slowly, he slid his hands back out from the choking body and began untying the boots on his feet. He pulled them off and checked the size. "Hmm, just right."

He walked over to the pack and started pulling everything out. "Oh my, yes. Oh this is nice! Oh wow, I haven't seen one of these in forever!" he stated with each item pulled out. Nearing the bottom of the bag, he realized it had become very quiet. He turned and looked to find Rizzo's body no longer moving. Billy made his way back and pressed his fingers to Rizzo's neck. He felt a twinge of guilt as no pulse reached his fingers. Inside, his partially inebriated mind searched for an answer. "I wish I could think of something to say. Something sympathetic. Something human... Eh, fuck it."

"What a shame, what a shame. Hehe, at least you got one helluva ride before you went, eh pal?" he said the best words he could come up with out loud.

Billy pulled the picture back out of his pocket and stuffed it into a pocket in Rizzo's pants. He picked his body up and dragged it to the nearby drainage ditch just outside of Billy's overpass. "Hasta luego, amigo." he said his final goodbye before rolling him into the ditch. At the bottom, Rizzo landed in a large puddle of dirty runoff and mud, his body no longer visible to world around him.

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Warmth. He needed warmth. And someplace dry. No boots, no shirt, and a sinus cavity full of what he believed to be bile and stagnant swamp water, Rizzo found himself in a staggering run through a dense forest. "W-where is everything? There are no woods like this... as far as I know," he wondered aloud.

He ran for what could have been hours or minutes, the true passage of time unknown to the dirty man. Looking through the pouring rain he saw a break in the tree line. "Finally!" he shouted over the din of the storm above. He picked up the pace, sprinting as fast as his sore body could move. The trees thinned as he ran, and he leaned up against one of the last ones of the forest. Through the rain he could see a big two story building with a couple lights twinkling through the windows.

His eyes spun around in his head, looking for anyone who might spot him. Seeing no one, he resumed his sprint towards the building. About 50 yards in front of the building, his foot caught on a rock hidden in a large puddle, which he proceeded to fall into. He lifted his head out of the muck and blew the junk from his mouth and nose. Shaking his hand off, he wiped his eyes clear and looked back up, only to see a large white sign in his way. He looked closer and saw a big red plus sign on it.

"Big red cross... must be a hospital or clinic," he wondered. He got up to his knees only to be thrown back down by a sudden, painful cramp in his stomach. "Oooh, whatever Billy gave me must has worn off awhile ago... wait. If that's some kind of medical center... they might have some methadone, or even some actual morphine!" He got back on his feet, slowly at first so as not to agitate his stomach. Once up, he jogged up to the front doors and peered in. The lights were on, but no one was at the front desk.

"No need to risk it. Someone might see me come in." He turned and walked along the wall and whipped around the corner. He checked a couple of windows and found all of them to be locked. "Shit," he muttered to himself. He kept going around the back and there he found his way in. A metal fire escape reached up and bent around the top ledge of the building's roof. He put his weight all on his foot on the first rung to test it, and satisfied that he would have an easier time than with Billy's ladder, he made his way to the roof.

Up there he found an unlocked window, leading into a dimly lit hallway. He peered into it to make sure no one was coming, and slipped into the nearest room. Luckily he found it empty. He grabbed up a blanket from the bed and wrapped it around his shivering form. He sat for a moment letting the warmth soak into his cold and clammy skin. Getting anxious from the increasingly painful stomach cramps, he noticed a painting up on a wall and on a whim looked closer.

"Man, whoever this artist is he has a weird sense of what a horse looks like." He looked down in the corner of the painting to find a name, which he read out loud once he could make out the handwritten scribble, "'#3 of 12  Lithographs by Purple Prose, from the Collection of Fine Art at the Ponymount Manehattan College of Art and Graphic Design.' Pfft, decent artist, can't even spell 'Manhattan' right."

He turned away and walked back to the door, since the feeling had returned to his hands and feet. He peered out the door. "Still empty." He slipped out into the hallway and made his way towards the end. There he found that it turned right to a hallway blocked off by locked steel doors. Up above he saw a sign that read "Psychiatric Ward." He banged on the door in frustration and turned away. Across the hallway, there was a large poster sized map with a big red arrow that said "YOU ARE HERE."

"Perfect!" He ran his hand along the directory, reading off the names, "Burn Ward, Cafeteria, Mareternity? I didn't realize Cedar Rapids had this low of a literacy rate... Ma-Magical Accidents? What?" Rizzo scratched his head before passing it off as a withdrawal symptom. "Dah, dah, dah, AHA! Here we go: 'pharmacy.'" He traced his route along the map and set off down the hallway. He bounded down the steps and ran through the ground floor door, not even bothering to look first in all his haste. He ran out into the hall only to take his second spill of the night, but instead of his foot hitting hard rock, his whole leg smashed into something soft and fuzzy. And that soft and fuzzy thing had yelped in pain.

The first thing to go through Rizzo's mind was, "OH SHIT! I just kicked a kid!" But as he picked his face up from the floor and turned it towards his would be child abuse arrest, he only found a light olive-furred lump. "Is... that a dog?"

Those thoughts were laid to rest as the furry thing raised its head, rubbing its temple with a... hoof? The knee high thing stood to its full height on all four limbs and looked to its attacker. Its already large eyes widened when it saw what had hit it. Rizzo opened his mouth to say something soothing so the animal wouldn't make any noise. He was interrupted when the thing talked.

"W-w-what are you?" it exclaimed.

Rizzo didn't stick around to answer though, as he was up on his feet again running to the point of his feet aching in pain with each foot fall. "Oh man, oh man! These DTs are Goddamned CRAZY! I gotta get something in my vein NOW." He shook his head clear of what he knew in his mind to be a hallucination from the lack of amphetamine in his system, he turned the corner into the final leg of his search. Halfway down the hall, he found his destination, the words "Pharmacy" emblazoned on a small plastic sign on the door. He tried turning the knob, but of course, it was locked.

Down the hall, he heard a cry from a female, "He's down that way, hurry!" Sparing no time, he picked up a small metal chair in the hall and bashed it against the knob. Blow after blow it seemed like it wouldn't come off until finally, with strength he thought he didn't have, Rizzo broke the handle right off the door. He pushed and pulled but the mechanism was still locked. He glanced down the hall again to see flashlights nearing the corner. Fully sweating now, Rizzo stuck his finger into the hole from the door knob and rattled around inside. After a moment he heard a click and the door swung open. He ran in and slammed the door shut, propping his metal chair against that side's knob, which thankfully had not come off yet.

Rizzo spun around. A few metal cabinets lined the walls, each with their own metal placard. He walked up to each, reading off their names, "Hmm, anti-psychotics, mmm no, no... oh. Oh my." Rizzo was struck dumb at the sight in front of him. A cabinet as high as the ceiling and twice as wide as Rizzo stood proudly before him, stocked from top to bottom with what the cabinet placard said.

ANALGESICS

A tear ran down Rizzo's face. "So... so much of it!" He ripped the doors open and giddily started pulling bottles of pills and liquid medications. He jumped with joy and hollered out, forgetting he was on the lamb. Rizzo may have forgotten, but the furry things outside had not. As Rizzo popped the top of a bottle marked "Marephine 50mg (quick release)" his pursuers began banging on the barricaded door. His ecstasy ended then and there. He slammed his body against the door, hoping to keep it in place. His eyes scanned the room for any way out.

"Of course. It's a pharmacy. One way in, one way out." Rizzo summed up his situation quickly, "there's no way I can get out of this now..." Another tear, this time a tear of sorrow etched across his dirty cheek. He picked up the bottle of pain killers and sighed. "If there's no physical way out..." Rizzo tilted his head back to down the entire bottle, but instead of the feeling of those little, white, happy pills entering his mouth, he got a rough kick to the back through the door. The force of the hit knocked him across the small room, pills spilling every which way from the bottle.

Still shaken, but still in his somewhat right mind, he started scooping up handfuls of the pills into his mouth, chewing on them for full effect. The taste would have gagged him, if it were not for another furry thing, this one larger than the last, slamming its hooves into the back of Rizzo's skull. Light faded from his eyes just as the numbing effect spread across his tongue, and he slipped into unconsciousness.