Chapter 3. #3
“It doesn’t matter if it’s a grenade to the face if it comes after your team is dead,” Gabriel continues and I shift my gaze to meet Reuben’s eyes a second time.
If he doesn’t come for his guy, I’m going to shoot him between the eyes.
I know that I’ve schooled my expression into cold indifference, because I practiced it in the mirror a thousand times. I’ve forcefully relaxed my body but I’m on the precipice of grabbing Gabriel by the hair and slamming his head into the door.
I know the warning must be clear in my eyes… but Reuben’s gaze is fiery. There’s a light in the shadows of his irises that’s daring me to do it. A smile while he bites down on his bottom lip that’s begging me to.
Crazy bastard.
I must have spent too much time in the shooting range, because my fingers are pulling imaginary triggers aimed directly between Gabriel’s eyes, and his grin is feral in response, “You look like you wanna go.”
“Play nice.” Reuben’s warning is like a splash of cold water in the car and Gabriel clicks his teeth before looking back out the window.
Me? I’m still pulling the imaginary triggers. One for each eye, one at the base of his spine, one in each of his knees. Strangely, I find myself smiling, before forcing the images away. Taking over as Christian must have made me a lot more violent, mentally.
The rest of the drive is as quiet as it can get with Xavier’s babbling, and the contrast that was there before isn’t there anymore.
It’s not so bad then, if this team also hates silence.
Though it bamboozles me how Xavier can hold a conversation all by himself.
At least Mitch had someone to bounce off of. Xavier doesn’t need anyone.
Tobias absentmindedly pulls out a knife and starts twirling it—his thoughts obviously far away—I pretend the asshole in front of him doesn’t exist, and I don’t feel Reuben’s eyes on me again for the rest of the drive.
I’m relaxed as I watch a whole new world pass us by, leaning against the window, but it’s not long before the sadness is rolling in again.
It’s astonishing how quickly everything around me has changed.
The ring hidden inside my shirt burns against my chest, and the scar along my stomach stings. I’d put it there before I left Portland, a single wound across my stomach to remind me of the blow that killed the real Christian, as well as two scars from bullet wounds in my back.
So that I never forget the real Christian is gone.
That he was shot in the back by one of his own.
“Pull over here, Wesley, I’m starving,” Reuben’s voice breaks through a temporary silence so suddenly I almost jump.
“As you wish, sir,” the driver responds and before I know it, we’re turning off the freeway and into a parking lot in front of a big building.
“Thank god.” Xavier doesn’t even wait for the car to come to a full stop before he’s jumping out, “I thought I was dying from all the boredom.”
“I thought I’d die listening to you talk,” Gabriel mumbles as he steps out and Tobias follows suit after him with another amused smile.
I’m the last to get out and stretch my legs before Xavier shuts the door behind me.
Reuben leads the way inside the small grocery, a badly painted red and blue building with the words ‘People’s Grocery’ in blinding white letters.
It looks well-maintained compared to the shops deeper in the city, and I’m grateful that it doesn’t attract any of the ‘wrong crowds’.
On the contrary, it looks pretty safe and the people that are scattered around are about the same, just tourists and families on road trips.
A loud cough interrupts my thoughts and when I look back, Wesley is leaning against the car, watching me. “Stick close,” he nudges his head in the direction of the others who’ve already disappeared inside and I follow after them quickly.
I can’t say I’ve been inside a grocery store before. They tend not to allow pets.
There are rows and rows of coloured wrappers and scents—pastries, jellies, hard candies, cans of uncooked foods. The floors are unnecessarily shiny, the lights in the ceiling are blinding, and I have to try my best not to look out of place.
I follow behind Xavier, who I hadn’t noticed was toting a large grey duffle across his back and he already has more than a handful of things in his basket.
Tobias and Reuben are two to three aisles down and I don’t exactly care where Gabriel is as long as he’s not in my space.
“Don’t be picky, just pick anything you like,” Xavier’s voice quips through my thoughts, and I can’t help but wonder if he even cares what’s in the basket. I barely looked away and it’s already half-full.
Deciding to follow suit, I just grab three random coloured wrappers and chuck them in, but it still earns me a strange look.
“You picked three different brands of the same cookies?” Xavier’s brows furrow and I keep my expression indifferent but I’m already scribbling another rule down in my mental rulebook while replying, “The kids on them look happy.”
The look deepens, “… Uh huh.”
Don’t make this harder for me, bud.
“Here.” He opens a glass door along the wall to pull out a small carton and hand it to me, “You’ll need this. This brand is my favourite.”
‘Vanilla Milk’? I can’t say I recognize the ‘vanilla’ bit.
“Thanks.” I figure it can’t hurt. I don’t think any team would try to kill me on my pre-first day.
A shot rings out in the air, along with the sound of shattering glass, and the world immediately tilts as Xavier tackles me, dragging me to the floor with a sharp curse.
Before I can fully understand the situation, Xavier pulls a pistol out of his jacket and takes aim over the shelf, and Gabriel ducks into my aisle to take cover, though I wish he hadn’t.
“I fucking knew this would happen,” he snaps over the sound of shots being fired, pulling his gun from his back pocket, and I’m still frozen on the floor when his words finally click into that slot in my head.
“What?” I ask dumbly.
“This is why we take the plane, cookie man.” Xavier pulls the duffle bag off his shoulders and I watch as he assembles a rifle within a count of six seconds, before taking aim over the shelf.
“There isn’t a gang on this side of the state that would miss a shot at a Taiga traveling across the border on the ground,” he explains quickly before pulling the trigger and I’m half-tempted to lie on the floor, lap my legs and go, ‘oh is that right’.
Because the bastard knew this would happen and still chose to fucking drive.
Ugh. I force myself to a crouch and try to listen to the sound of the shots fired over panicked screaming.
It takes longer than I want it to, but I can identify eight other people in the store, excluding our five.
A family of four in the back, the two cashiers hiding behind the counter and two teens huddled close together—in front of us and to the left.
Reuben and Tobias are taking fire in a different aisle, so that means…
“How many of them are there?” Xavier shouts out, but it’s barely a knock on the door outside of my thoughts.
“Six.” The answer escapes the exact moment I figure it out and I regret it immediately because Xavier’s heard me, he’s watching me with new suspicion.
“What did you say?” His eyes narrow, but I remain quiet.
Six guns. Four pistols in the middle and two rifles on each side.
“Is there another exit?” I shout instead and Xavier shakes his head. “Then just hold out for now!” I rummage through his duffle for anything to protect myself and my fingers find a small pistol.
“How the fuck is that going to get us out of this?” Gabriel shouts out.
I want to ignore him but knowing would be for Xavier’s benefit too, “Because Wesley’s outside!” I remind him. “Just hold out!”
Gabriel clicks his teeth under his breath as he reloads, but there’s a pause in the air specifically from the enemy’s rifles and I know they’re reloading at the same time.
If he aims now, he’s going to get shot…
But I can’t say I’m inclined to stop him.
The moment Gabriel takes his aim over the shelf, a bullet tears through his shoulder.
“Fuck!” He curses as he ducks back down, new blood seeping into his shirt sleeve, and I have to resist the wave of disappointment until I see Xavier moving to stand out of the corner of my eye.
No, not you. I pull him right back down just as a bullet flies over his head, and Xavier’s eyes are wide with shock, “Holy shit.”
Gabriel seethes—at me or from the wound I can’t say for sure—but I pretend not to see him as I grab a serrated knife from the duffel and tuck it into the back of my pants.
“Where are you going?” Xavier snaps.
I ignore his question, pinning him with a serious stare to make sure he understands, “Wesley is going to draw their attention and redirect their fire. The moment he does, run and take them out.”
I don’t wait for his response. I’ve heard that pause between shots again, and I’m dashing out of the aisle and into another, in front of us and to the left.
A shot ricochets off the shelf right behind my head, and I crouch beside two kids, no older than maybe 18. A boy and a girl with sharp features, dark skin and golden eyes.
“Hey, just keep holding up. It’ll be over soon,” I try to sound as reassuring as possible, but they only look up at me with wide-eyed fear and suspicion. “These guys aren’t playing around so don’t do anything dumb. Stay. Here. Understand? Don’t go running out even if you think it’s safe.”
They nod their heads quickly, and I only hope they’re smart enough to listen.
I’d counted six guys with guns. It didn’t mean I’d counted all of them. As far as I’m concerned, the family of four to the back is ten times safer than these two. They are directly between us and ‘them’… and I’m not about to believe they’ll let the kids go.
I crouch behind one end of the shelf, remaining out of sight and out of the line of fire, while readying the knife I’d swiped from Xavier. I’m counting the seconds, because I know they’re coming. Know they’ll want to take advantage of the chaos to corner us.
The moment the barrel of a gun peaks out into the aisle, I grab it and pull it forward with my right hand, knocking the person on the other end off balance and jabbing the knife into his throat with my left. The feel of his blood against my hand and wrist is unfamiliar.
I hear a sound behind me and even though I predicted it, I still messed up. I turn sharply and throw the dagger without time to think and an unfamiliar man with an M16 rifle cries out, my knife rooted deeply in his thigh.
His pain is the only seconds I have.
“Lower!” My command is sharp, and the kids huddle deeper into the ground with terrified yelps as I dash to the other end of the aisle, grabbing a nearby can from the shelf and throwing it with all my might.
It hits him squarely in the face, granting me just two more seconds until I reach him, grabbing the barrel of his gun and directing it away from the aisle and the kids, and pulling out my pistol to press the muzzle deep under his chin.
A single shot and he’s done, without time to react. But when I look up, I’m looking right into the muzzle of another gun.
My blood runs cold. My heart roars in my ears and time slows though I know it can’t really.
If I get shot here it’s over. I can’t explain a bullet to the head.
Two shots sound in my ears and I mentally prepare for the massive cover-up I’m going to have to create to remain ‘Christian’.
But when the world comes into focus again, it’s not me covered in bullets.
The man in front of me falls like a rock and I stumble back, finally remembering to breathe again.
When I look back I’m meeting Reuben’s stormy eyes and crazy grin, “Getting a little too close to death, wouldn’t you say?”
I’m a little dazed from the near fuck-up, but I don’t let it show, I only narrow my eyes to show the tip of the iceberg that is my subtle displeasure.
“And whose fault would that be?” I put my pistol away. “You expected this, didn’t you? Now get us out of it.”
“Don’t worry, estrellito.” The crazy bastard has a strange excitement in his eyes that unnerves me, and he winks, “People would make fun of me if I couldn’t even get you across the border.”
I don’t get a word in because an explosion rattles the store, powerful enough to shake the ground beneath us. I immediately dash into the aisle to cover the kids, waiting for another explosion—
But they never come.
And when I look up, Reuben is gone.