Down the Road
| Friends and alliances are fickle things, hard to come by in the Slaughter Chronicles universe. Finding a true friend is about as rare as sighting one of the true Void gods. Enemies, however, are in no short supply. Regina has never liked her dad’s best friend, Anthony. She knows she needs to live-and-let-live, but she just can’t seem to stop pushing his buttons. However, after Regina starts going to therapy to work out her teen-werewolf issues, her relationship with Anthony (BRIEFLY) became a little less strained. Regina tries to work on herself and maintain a civil attitude whenever Anthony walks on-stage. She doesn’t always succeed, but at least she tries. |
Read it because: Regina and Anthony snarking at each other is always fun AND this is one of the first are rare times we see Regina dislike something about Hyperion’s modifications to her werewolf strain.
This slice-of-life originally started as a scene I was working on for the beginning of TSC book two. I wanted to show the tension between Anthony and Regina early on, but then things changed in the plot where Regina didn’t actually make it to her therapy appointment because of spoilers. I edited it so that now it takes place between Wind Chimes and Cruelty and Binding Wards (both are stories in Harbinger of Havoc: Regina, the Slaughter Chronicles Book One). If you go on to read Binding Wards, you’ll see Anthony make a mistake that almost destroys his friendship with Regina’s adopted father, Atlas, and makes Regina go back to hating his guts full time (until the end of book three).
Content warning: references to eating disorders
Enjoy!
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Regina walked down the red brick steps of Mishap Memorial Hospital. She popped one airpod into her ear and flicked her phone screen to play David Bowie’s Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes. The song fit her mood after the lengthy, multifaceted discussion she’d had with her therapist, Dr. Cassie.
Regina was about to jog past the black Camero loitering in the hospital’s drop off lane when she noticed the shape of the head inside.
“Fu-fu-fu-fuck.” She sang to Bowie’s tune. What does he want?
Regina changed course. Her heavy cowboy boots went clomp-clomp on the damp concrete. She turned her music off and tapped a knuckle on the window.
Anthony Thane rolled down the window. “Atlas told me to come get you,” he said. “There’s a storm on the way, flash floods on the highway.”
“I can handle a little flooding.” She scowled up at the thick, gray clouds. The air smelled like it was going to rain. Running all the way back to base wet would be annoying, but thanks to the miracles of HADES tech, her phone and airpods were both waterproof.
Anthony’s jaw clenched. “Just get in the car.”
Regina was on the verge of sprinting away when Dr. Cassie’s voice floated out of the dark. Tolerance, Dr. Cassie had said. Many, many times.
If dad told Anthony to come, he’ll be expecting both of us. He’ll ask where I am and I don’t want Anthony to bitch about me to dad again.
Regina yanked on the door handle and sunk down into the passenger seat. She folded her arms across her chest and slouched down until her knees hit the glove compartment.
“I am not driving with you sitting like that. Put your seatbelt on.”
Regina sat up straight and buckled in. She thought back to her therapy session. She hadn’t complained as much about Anthony as she had last week. Granted, she hadn’t had much interaction with him in that time, but he’d been civil, if not his usual entitled, stand-offish self.
Don’t break things that are going good, Dr. Cassie had said.
“Today’s grain delivery day, right?” Regina asked.
"Yeah." He didn’t elaborate and the way he said it like a sigh told Regina everything she needed to know.
Anthony eased out of the parking lot and let his Camero loose on the straight-a-way.
“I’m sorry you had to come out here and get me,” Regina said. “I didn’t set out on my day to inconvenience you.”
Anthony blinked, his eyes owl-wide. “Who are you, and what have you done with Regina?”
Anthony blinked, his eyes owl-wide. “Who are you, and what have you done with Regina?”
Regina stared out the window and watched the utility poles cut across her reflection.
Slice.
Slice.
Slice.
“Do you need to stop anywhere on the way home?” Anthony asked.
Regina shook her head. “I can’t think of anything.”
“I need gas. Do you have your wallet, in case you see something you want at Manticore Market?”
Regina made a show of checking her pockets, then stopped half way through. Who was she kidding? “No,” she said.
Anthony made what Regina called a level two exasperation noise. “You need to carry your ID with you all the time, in case something happens.”
“If something happens, I don’t want anyone to know who I am,” she shot back. Not that her ID sported her real name or actual address anyway.
Anthony opened his mouth, then shut it. Then he asked, “Do you at least have your phone?”
“I always have my phone.”
“Have you set the Findme 24/7 app to run continuously in the background?”
“Yes.”
After a heartbeat’s pause, Anthony made a rare noise of approval.
When they pulled up to the gas pump, Anthony handed her a twenty-dollar bill. “Get snacks.”
“I’ll just wait in the car,” she said.
“Your stomach’s been growling since I picked you up.”
“It has not,” Regina said.
Right on cue, her stomach growled and the hunger pains she’d been pretending to ignore for the last three hours hit her like a punch to the gut.
“Get snacks,” Anthony said again, more sternly than before.
“Fine,” Regina pinched the top corner of the twenty with the tips of her fingers, as if Anthony had dipped it in piss before handing it to her. She jerked it from Anthony’s hand with a flick of her fingers.
A bell jingled as Regina pushed open the glass door and the cashier met Regina’s entrance with an unfriendly scowl. Regina glared back and spent the next few seconds surveying the store for visible threats. She’d deal with any invisible threats when they came up.
Regina moved down the aisles, grabbing random sugary things without paying attention to what they were, just their price. There was no way she was going to risk going over-budget and having to ask Anthony for more money. Movement outside caught her eye and she kept half of her attention trained on Anthony standing next to his Camaro for the rest of her shopping experience.
Regina plopped down heavily in the passenger seat, her arms wrapped around a nearly overflowing paper bag full of snacks.
“The judgy one was at the counter today,” Regina said as Anthony slid more gracefully into the driver’s seat.
“Judgy one?”
“Linda. The cashier,” Regina clarified. “She always looks at me like I’m a disgusting hippo.” Regina tore open the thin plastic on a jumbo Little Debbie Zebra Cake and chomped down. Waxy icing and synthetic sugar-cream filled her mouth and she swallowed the barely passible food item, barely tasting it.
“You’re imagining things,” Anthony said.
Regina took another bite of pastry. “Don’t take her side just because I don’t like her.” Regina’s cheeks bulged.
Anthony spared her the barest of glances. “You’ve got frosting on your chin.”
The sugar-cream curdled in her stomach acid. She pulled a pink lemonade Powerade out of the bag and drank some to settle her stomach.
“Linda think all this is disgusting.” Regina waved her bottle over the bag as if it were a dousing rod. As an afterthought, Regina added, “She doesn’t eat. Maybe she tells herself I’m gross to help herself ignore the hunger.”
“Being in therapy for a few months doesn’t give you the right to diagnose other people,” Anthony said.
“I’ve been watching Linda for over a year,” Regina scoffed. “She’s a chain smoking skeleton. I’m amazed she’s still alive.”
“Alright,” Anthony said, his tone dripping with condescension. “Say, you’re right and she is anorexic or whatever. How is that any of your business?”
Regina’s fingers tightened around the Powerade bottle, making the plastic crinkle. “She must be hungry all the time.” Her voice dropped to a mumble. “I don’t get full no matter how much I eat.”
Anthony raised an eyebrow. “Are you mad at her because you think she’s jealous of you because you can eat whatever you want and not gain weight?”
“Sure, why not? Exactly.” Regina threw up her hand and her knuckles went smack against the window. Not hard enough to break the glass, but enough to sting for a second.
“Cut that shit out,” Anthony said. Lightning streaked the sky and thunder growled across the rural highway.
“I didn’t mean to.” Regina folded her arms across her chest again and dug her nails into her left bicep. The light filtering through the gray clouds dimmed and the landscape grew heavy with storm shadows. It looked like the bottom was going to drop off any second.
“Just because you’re mad at me doesn’t give you permission to break my window.”
“I didn’t break your window and I said I didn’t mean to. For the record, I’m mad because, once again you don’t fucking get it.”
Slice.
Slice.
Slice.
“Do you need to stop anywhere on the way home?” Anthony asked.
Regina shook her head. “I can’t think of anything.”
“I need gas. Do you have your wallet, in case you see something you want at Manticore Market?”
Regina made a show of checking her pockets, then stopped half way through. Who was she kidding? “No,” she said.
Anthony made what Regina called a level two exasperation noise. “You need to carry your ID with you all the time, in case something happens.”
“If something happens, I don’t want anyone to know who I am,” she shot back. Not that her ID sported her real name or actual address anyway.
Anthony opened his mouth, then shut it. Then he asked, “Do you at least have your phone?”
“I always have my phone.”
“Have you set the Findme 24/7 app to run continuously in the background?”
“Yes.”
After a heartbeat’s pause, Anthony made a rare noise of approval.
When they pulled up to the gas pump, Anthony handed her a twenty-dollar bill. “Get snacks.”
“I’ll just wait in the car,” she said.
“Your stomach’s been growling since I picked you up.”
“It has not,” Regina said.
Right on cue, her stomach growled and the hunger pains she’d been pretending to ignore for the last three hours hit her like a punch to the gut.
“Get snacks,” Anthony said again, more sternly than before.
“Fine,” Regina pinched the top corner of the twenty with the tips of her fingers, as if Anthony had dipped it in piss before handing it to her. She jerked it from Anthony’s hand with a flick of her fingers.
A bell jingled as Regina pushed open the glass door and the cashier met Regina’s entrance with an unfriendly scowl. Regina glared back and spent the next few seconds surveying the store for visible threats. She’d deal with any invisible threats when they came up.
Regina moved down the aisles, grabbing random sugary things without paying attention to what they were, just their price. There was no way she was going to risk going over-budget and having to ask Anthony for more money. Movement outside caught her eye and she kept half of her attention trained on Anthony standing next to his Camaro for the rest of her shopping experience.
* * *
Regina plopped down heavily in the passenger seat, her arms wrapped around a nearly overflowing paper bag full of snacks.
“The judgy one was at the counter today,” Regina said as Anthony slid more gracefully into the driver’s seat.
“Judgy one?”
“Linda. The cashier,” Regina clarified. “She always looks at me like I’m a disgusting hippo.” Regina tore open the thin plastic on a jumbo Little Debbie Zebra Cake and chomped down. Waxy icing and synthetic sugar-cream filled her mouth and she swallowed the barely passible food item, barely tasting it.
“You’re imagining things,” Anthony said.
Regina took another bite of pastry. “Don’t take her side just because I don’t like her.” Regina’s cheeks bulged.
Anthony spared her the barest of glances. “You’ve got frosting on your chin.”
The sugar-cream curdled in her stomach acid. She pulled a pink lemonade Powerade out of the bag and drank some to settle her stomach.
“Linda think all this is disgusting.” Regina waved her bottle over the bag as if it were a dousing rod. As an afterthought, Regina added, “She doesn’t eat. Maybe she tells herself I’m gross to help herself ignore the hunger.”
“Being in therapy for a few months doesn’t give you the right to diagnose other people,” Anthony said.
“I’ve been watching Linda for over a year,” Regina scoffed. “She’s a chain smoking skeleton. I’m amazed she’s still alive.”
“Alright,” Anthony said, his tone dripping with condescension. “Say, you’re right and she is anorexic or whatever. How is that any of your business?”
Regina’s fingers tightened around the Powerade bottle, making the plastic crinkle. “She must be hungry all the time.” Her voice dropped to a mumble. “I don’t get full no matter how much I eat.”
Anthony raised an eyebrow. “Are you mad at her because you think she’s jealous of you because you can eat whatever you want and not gain weight?”
“Sure, why not? Exactly.” Regina threw up her hand and her knuckles went smack against the window. Not hard enough to break the glass, but enough to sting for a second.
“Cut that shit out,” Anthony said. Lightning streaked the sky and thunder growled across the rural highway.
“I didn’t mean to.” Regina folded her arms across her chest again and dug her nails into her left bicep. The light filtering through the gray clouds dimmed and the landscape grew heavy with storm shadows. It looked like the bottom was going to drop off any second.
“Just because you’re mad at me doesn’t give you permission to break my window.”
“I didn’t break your window and I said I didn’t mean to. For the record, I’m mad because, once again you don’t fucking get it.”
Regina was suddenly gripped by the irrational fear that they were going to be swept off the road by a flash floor and Anthony, of all people, was going to be the last person she’d see before she died.
“What am I supposed to get, Regina? That you’re better than her because you don’t starve yourself?”
“Because she and I are the same!” Regina ripped open a bag of gummie worms. “I hate being hungry and I hate that these fun, colorful treats do nothing to make it go away. I hate that the only thing that makes me feel full are our field rations, which, by the way, are the same damn calorie bars they forced me to eat at Box Three*. I hate that whenever Atlas and I have father-daughter dinner, I can’t focus all of my attention on him because a part of me is always thinking about how hungry I am and that what’s in front of me will never be enough. Then this bitch at the gas station gives me attitude because she thinks I don’t feel anything and—“ Regina cut herself off with a shaky breath that was more like a squeak than a gasp.
Did I really just say all of that? To Anthony? If her face was red before, her cheeks and the tips of her ears were on fire now. Regina shoved a handful of gummie worms into her mouth and angled her body so that her back was to Anthony. But from the reflection in the passenger side window, she saw him glancing sideways at her every few seconds.
Maybe dying in a flash flood wouldn’t be so bad.
“What am I supposed to get, Regina? That you’re better than her because you don’t starve yourself?”
“Because she and I are the same!” Regina ripped open a bag of gummie worms. “I hate being hungry and I hate that these fun, colorful treats do nothing to make it go away. I hate that the only thing that makes me feel full are our field rations, which, by the way, are the same damn calorie bars they forced me to eat at Box Three*. I hate that whenever Atlas and I have father-daughter dinner, I can’t focus all of my attention on him because a part of me is always thinking about how hungry I am and that what’s in front of me will never be enough. Then this bitch at the gas station gives me attitude because she thinks I don’t feel anything and—“ Regina cut herself off with a shaky breath that was more like a squeak than a gasp.
Did I really just say all of that? To Anthony? If her face was red before, her cheeks and the tips of her ears were on fire now. Regina shoved a handful of gummie worms into her mouth and angled her body so that her back was to Anthony. But from the reflection in the passenger side window, she saw him glancing sideways at her every few seconds.
Maybe dying in a flash flood wouldn’t be so bad.
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Want more Slice of Life stories? Check out the master list!
Second author’s note: Even though Regina is a werewolf and a flash flood wouldn’t really do anything to her, unless it pushed her into the path of an 18-wheeler, but I digress. In 2009, I was caught in a flash flood and let me tell you, that water came out of nowhere. Flash floods are not a joke.
*Box Three: the HADES research black site where Regina was found and rescued from by Atlas Barrow. For that story, read Harbinger of Havoc: Regina.
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