Word Count: 1174
I thought I was fucked up, y’know. I’ve not met many people that find it as easy to be heartless as me, and I’m sure you can tell by now that even I have a heart somewhere inside of me. Even Rayn was surprised.
“Do you think they really will know we’re here?”
“Well, they’ll know that he’s here. Fuck knows if they’ll be worried enough to come get him, though. Expect the worst, I guess.” I didn’t want to sound too negative, but people like this were only going to be worse now the world was falling apart.
“I’m not even sure I can shoot a gun under pressure,” Joe said, worry flashing up on his face. I offered to swap my knife for his gun. “What is a knife going to do against a gun?” he asked, incredulous at the idea of swapping.
“What’s a gun going to do to protect you when you can’t shoot it?”
“I can at least make it look like I can. Who knows? Maybe I will actually pull the trigger.” I wasn’t so sure.
“That’s up to you. The knife’s there if you want it.” I was pretty keen to keep hold of a knife anyway. People always get scared when you ran straight at them – they think a gun is enough to keep them safe.
“Me may not even need to use them,” Joe said, hopeful as he turned to Rayn.
“I think a group that’s got people like this guy in it are likely to turn up. They’ll get violent,” Rayn told him, apologizing quietly for not being able to be more positive about it.
Joe looked a little deflated at his answer.
“There’s only three of us. Two of us are perfectly confident with using a gun, the odds don’t look too promising.”
Rayn gave a shrug. “Dpends how many turn up. If things get ugly, you can get out of the motel through the kitchen. Cancer’s always been pretty good at beating bad odds, though,” he giggled, and I wondered if the same memory was going through his head. Our squat had been raided once, while we were in Las Vegas, and four or five cops broke in. It was the middle of the night, I was asleep on the sofa, Rayn was still off his face somewhere and we were generally just minding our own business when suddenly there was all this shouting. One of them tried to grab me in my sleep, thinking he’d get in a quick, easy arrest. He’d been lucky I’d lost my knife that night, I only managed to punch him, but I broke his nose. While he was staggering back in shock, I stole his tazer and zapped him in the neck with it, turning on the other three. They all had guns, and all I had was this tazer. We spent months on the run after that. Cops don’t take kindly to having their asses handed to them by a smack addict in the middle of the night.
“Well… Let’s just hope it doesn’t get to that,” Joe gave us a shaky attempt at an optimistic smile, though it soon fell when he noticed the kid on the sofa coming around.
I stood over him, knife at the ready again. I really wanted to get a reaction out of him. Fear, anger, anything. “How many are there in your group?” I demanded.
“Too many for you to handle,” he slurred through his split lip. The back of my hand made a loud, wet slapping noise against the blood on his face. “For fuck’s sake, quit it.” He wasn’t exactly in a good way, though he was still putting on his tough face. I wanted to call him an idiot, but to be honest, I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same in his position.
“Why don’t you stop whining like a little pussy bitch,” I growled. When the kid lifted his hands and gave me the finger in spite of his wrists being tied together, my temper snapped. Just for a moment. I lashed out, driving my knife into his hand. There was some sort of sick satisfaction in the crunch of his bones as they gave way to the blade and the cry of pain he let out. If I wasn’t going to get fear from him, I was going to get pain.
Anger flared on his face and I hid my smile as I got a rise out of him. “You’re not going to survive this at all, not when they come for you,” he shouted, trying to cradle his hand, but Rayn had tied him too tightly.
“Do they really care enough about you to come looking?” I spat at him, returning the favor he’d paid me earlier. The kid’s lip twisted upwards in another of his smiles.
“It’s not whether they care for me or not, it’s you they’ll be coming for. It’s survival of the fittest now, weeding out the weak ones,” he said with a pointed look at Joe.
“And that’s exactly why you’ll never leave the motel alive,” I growled, determined to make good on that promise whether or not I died in here too. I was trying not to let my temper get the better of me, I really was. I was trying to get him to react, not let him make me react. But then, my temper never was something that could be properly controlled.
“Maybe so,” he said, seeming to accept whatever he had coming to him, “but I’ll never leave his thoughts,” he was still looking at Joe. “I’ll be there with you, under your skin. You’ll never get rid of me,” he wasn’t talking to me anymore, and that pissed me off. I didn’t want him speaking to Joe, and to shut him up, I gave him a hard blow to the ribs with my fist.
“You won’t phase me,” Joe spoke up, trying to show his courage by thrusting his chin out, “not in this world, not after this.”
“See?” I smiled, feeling oddly proud of Joe for some reason, “told you he was the tough one. Stupid asshole-” I’d had more to say, but the smash and crash of falling glass disturbed me. The rock that had broken the window missed Rayn’s head by about an inch. I turned around to face the window, livid that someone had nearly hurt Rayn.
“The fuck was that?” I demanded, looking out of the window. Rayn picked up the rock, pulling a note off it.
“Hand over your weapons and we let you live,” Rayn read off the paper and looked up at me, part worried, part annoyed. “That thing nearly hit me in the face!” he stamped his foot. Rayn always did take things too personally. His gun was out, his other hand balled up in a tiny fist. But it was the kid on the sofa that had caught my eye – that smile was back.
“They’re here,” he chuckled.