12 Gauge & Velvet Rage - Chapter 1

A conversative father must rescue his naive son

Chapter 1: The Sleepover

Daniel lay in bed, the blue glow of his phone casting shadows across the stubble and newly formed crow's feet on his aging face. The origin of the glow was Dexter Morgan's blade arcing downward as he exacted justice. Blue became red as Daniel smiled. He had seen this episode twice before, but the ritual soothed him. Blood pooled in predictable patterns, a dark, viscous inkblot spreading across tile. He took comfort in the promise of Dexter's justice, even if it was fictional.

A notification sounded as a text popped up over the pool of blood.

I'm sorry dad

His stomach dropped. No hey, no emoji. Just three little words. Daniel's fingers flew over the screen.

Where are you?

No reply.

He tapped Jeremy's face at the top of the screen. Last seen 12 minutes ago. A pin on the map, somewhere in the grid of suburban streets where the houses all bled together.

Daniel threw on a jacket, grabbed his keys. The gun rack in his truck glinted under the reflection of the porch light as he yanked the heavy driver's door open. Streetlights bled into streaks as he accelerated. Worst-case scenarios flickered: Jeremy bleeding. Jeremy arrested. Jeremy overdosed.

The sleepover had been Jeremy's idea, his first attempt to connect since graduation. At 18, Jeremy was technically an adult. He was supposed to be able to handle things on his own now, right?

Jeremy always struggled with confidence. He struggled with a lot of things. Since graduating, a group of outcasts who had graduated the year prior suddenly befriended Jeremy. Daniel didn't understand why a tight-knit group of friends would suddenly invite the quiet kid. Daniel had wanted to warn him. Groups don't adopt strays without a reason. But he'd bitten his tongue.

It seemed Daniel struggled with confidence too.

The pin led him to a dimly lit curb. A figure hunched there, face buried in hands. Even shadowed, Daniel knew the slope of those shoulders, Jeremy's build, softer than his own but just as broad. Like looking at his own ghost from twenty years past.

Daniel rolled down the window.

"What happened?"

Jeremy scrambled up, wrenching the door open.

"I'm sorry. Sleepovers just aren't my thing."

Relief flooded Daniel's veins, warm and sudden. Thank God for cowardice.

"Jesus, kid. I thought something bad happened."

"It's just... their house. Everything's off. The glasses taste like dishwasher soap. The couch smells like farts and Febreze."

Jeremy rubbed his arms like he was cold. He explained that he wasn't hurt or anything, he just didn't like sleeping at other people's houses. It was just more for Jeremy's brain to process, and Jeremy had trouble processing stress on a normal day.

The drive back home was calmer than the drive there. Jeremy recounted the details of the evening to his father.

At around 7, the parents ordered pizza.

At 8, the kids watched a superhero movie in the living room.

From 10 onward, they started telling dirty jokes. All the jokes were new to Jeremy, but he had to admit a few of them were pretty funny. Daniel was proud of his son. He was curious about the jokes, but didn't want to pry. It seemed Jeremy genuinely had fun.

At least until it was time to go to sleep.

Streetlights pulsed as Daniel continued the drive home. They'd only been on the road for five minutes when Jeremy started to describe how hard it was to fall asleep.

Jeremy said the kids made it to midnight before the parents enforced a lights-out policy, but with the lights out, everything got worse. Once the chatter started to die, every sound became louder. The furnace groaning, the ceiling fan whirring. It was all Jeremy could hear. It rattled him.

He could even hear the parents in their bedroom. It sounded like they were... giggling?

Daniel arched his eyebrow as Jeremy continued with his play-by-play.

Jeremy recalled checking his phone at that point and saw it was 12:15 AM. He remembered hearing the door lock a couple minutes later and then unlock about twenty minutes after that.

Daniel knew what happened during those twenty minutes, but he wasn't sure if Jeremy knew.

Jeremy said he tried to go back to sleep until his friend's dad came out at about 12:45.

"Dad, he came out in his underwear and he was sleepwalking!"

"Wait, what?" Daniel said.

Jeremy started laughing.

"Ugh, it sounds stupid to say it out loud, but he was SO hairy. Like the hairiest person I've ever seen. It's too much. I'm just not meant for sleepovers."

Daniel was less concerned about the hair and more concerned with the underwear and sleepwalking.

"What do you mean he was 'sleepwalking'? Did he have his hands out in front of him?"

"No, not like a zombie. He just kind of shuffled down the hallway and stopped at the edge of the living room. He stood there for like five minutes, just staring straight ahead. Right at us, basically."

Jeremy said that's when he slowly got up, which must have been enough to alert Logan's dad, because that's when he turned around and went back to his room.

Daniel's gears started turning. People don't really sleepwalk, do they?

His eyes glanced at the rearview mirror and caught a glimpse of the shotgun reflected back. Daniel needed more information. He didn't know this guy. He didn't even know these friends. He only knew that Jeremy had been invited by his new friend, Logan.

"Who else was there?"

Jeremy gave a couple of first names and said they were all Logan's friends.

"Did they see all of this?"

"I don't think so. Everybody else was asleep by that point."

Something wasn't adding up, Daniel thought. Who were these kids that were suddenly so interested in Jeremy? Was the dad a part of this?

No, this isn't a movie. There had to be a reasonable explanation.

"What's the dad's name again?"

"I don't know. 'Logan's Dad'?"

Daniel pulled off to the side of the suburban road. They were about halfway home.

"What's Logan's last name?"

"I don't know. I never asked. Why does it matter?"

Daniel wanted to do some research on these people, but without last names, that would be almost impossible. He tried to recall the address but realized he never got one.

He asked Jeremy for the address, but Jeremy didn't know that either. Anytime he went over there, Logan always picked him up. Daniel had no way of knowing who those people were or even who owned that house.

Was he overreacting?

He hesitated as his hands crushed the steering wheel.

Milk. Sleepwalkers don't pour fucking milk.

The truck's tires screeched as Daniel pulled the wheel hard to the left and started back toward Logan's house.

The drive felt much slower this time. Jeremy begged him not to turn this into a whole situation.

"Dad, please."

"I just need the address."

Daniel pulled up to the same spot Jeremy was sulking ten minutes prior. He looked down to the curb for a number. Not there. He looked up toward the mailbox and then to the front door. Nothing.

Wait. No. There was something.

They had no porch lights, but he could make out that the front door was slightly ajar.

Goddammit.

Something was going on.

"I need that address," Daniel muttered. No last names. No records. Just a pin on a map and a door left open like a fucking trap.

He looked at Jeremy and then back at the rearview mirror. He decided not to bring the shotgun.

Jeremy's eyes grew wide as he protested and reached for his father's arm, but Daniel pulled it away.

Daniel's heart raced as he walked up to the front door, empty-handed. He made it to the front door and peered through the crack. It was pitch black.

His finger met the door. A creak. Cold air rushed out, smelling of pepperoni and adolescent sweat.

As Daniel crossed over the threshold, he realized the house was as quiet as Jeremy described.

Inside, the home opened to a moderately sized living room with a hallway on the left and an open-concept kitchen straight back. The living room was littered with sleeping bags and a stack of empty pizza boxes. He saw five or six kids sprawled across the floor, dead to the world.

His eyes were beginning to adjust.

And that's when he realized there was someone else.

At the other end of the living room, in the kitchen, there was another figure.

A man stood silhouetted against the frame of moonlight behind him. Bare-chested. Tighty whities. Glass of milk in hand. Body hair matted thick as a pelt.

Logan's Dad.

Daniel's boot squeaked on the linoleum.

The man raised the milk. Slurped. Swallowed.

His eyes locked on Daniel.

One finger lifted. Pressed to lips.

Shhhh.

Daniel started his calculations. Evaluate the situation.

The kids on the floor looked like they were around Jeremy's age. That tracked. They were breathing. Good.

Creepy Sasquatch wasn't technically doing anything wrong. He was just standing in his kitchen, in his underwear, watching potential children while drinking some goddamn milk.

That was pretty fucking weird, wasn't it?

So what should he do?

Daniel stood there, staring at the man. The man stared back.

What could Daniel do? He realized he may have just committed a felony. He entered this man's home. He broke the law.

Daniel recalled advice from years ago. Play the tape all the way through.

He was the one in the wrong. If he confronted the man, he not only risked waking the kids but would also have to explain what he was doing there.

Maybe the guy really was sleepwalking.

Daniel backed toward the door.

One step back. Two.

Daniel's spine hit the jamb. The man's tongue swiped milk off his lip.

He slipped out and latched the door behind him.

Even twenty feet from the truck, he could already see the relieved look on Jeremy's face.

Then he heard the door lock behind him.

Daniel stopped in his tracks and closed his eyes to think. Who locked the door?

He opened his eyes and saw the concerned face of his son. Daniel made a split-second decision and continued toward the truck.

He apologized to Jeremy for turning around.

"Front door was open, but everything's okay."

Liar.

It wasn't Daniel's problem anymore. His kid just needed to get home and get some sleep.

The pair had a big day tomorrow. After work, they'd leave with "Uncle" Harvey for the Great Smoky Mountains. Daniel wasn't much for traveling anymore, but Jeremy was, and two years at Constellation had earned him 6 days and 7 nights at the company's vacation rental.

They hadn't been on a vacation in years. Not since Daniel's wife died.

Daniel had a good feeling about this trip. He thought Jeremy might come out of his shell. Harvey would help with that.

They pulled into their driveway, and Daniel squeezed Jeremy's shoulder.

"I love you, kiddo."