TWELVE #3
From the roof, I can see the three Alphas moving along the edge of the crash, dragging someone with them now. Ah, the pilot. So he really was alive, then. Barely, but alive.
The scarred one takes most of the weight while the one with earrings covers their backs. The Welsh one moves backward, gun raised and jacket zipped enough that I can’t see Maine’s hat anymore, and a low sound tears through me.
Kaito hears it, because why wouldn’t he? The man catches everything else.
“Kota,” he says, softer this time.
I swallow hard, voice still ragged when the words come out. “Don’t call me that like you know me.”
“You’re right. I don’t.”
“Good. Keep it that way,” I say.
He grows quiet for all of two seconds before he quietly tells me, “But I know that hat means something. Something important.”
My throat tightens and, for a moment, I think I actually hate him more than anything alive or dead. And not because he’s wrong. Because he really isn’t, and I hate that even more.
Ignoring his words, I crouch at the roof edge, watching the Alphas disappear between two apartment blocks.
They move toward the north side of the district, but not randomly.
I can see it in the way they move that it’s deliberate.
They have a route, maybe even a temporary camp.
Hell, I wouldn’t even be surprised if they had a vehicle at this point. Maybe even a compound.
Doesn’t matter, because what I know they do have is Maine’s hat.
Wiping rain from my eyelashes with the back of my hand, I force my breathing to slow.
Panic is too loud, but grief is worse. Both will get me killed, both make scents spike, and both will turn me into a flashing beacon for every Alpha and Zed in the vicinity.
So, I do the only thing I can do. I shove them deep, deep down.
One by one, I bottle it all. The fear, the pain, Maine’s voice, the part of me that wants to curl into a ball in the empty space in my head and simply cry until my eyes sting and my throat aches.
It all gets shoved to the deepest part of my mind.
Kaito crouches a couple of feet away, smartly keeping his distance.
He doesn’t ask what the plan is, nor does he tell me that the hat is nothing more than a hat.
If he did, I wouldn’t hesitate to shove him off the roof and watch his body go splat on the concrete below.
Sure, I’d feel bad for it after. Probably riddled with guilt, actually. I can’t afford that on my conscience.
Instead, I catch him looking toward the smoke, and he comments, “They’re moving fast, but they’re not running.”
“Pilot is probably slowing them down,” I tell him.
Kaito nods and I bite my lip as I watch them.
“They’ll avoid the main roads,” I say, fingers clenching into fists.
“Yup,” he agrees.
“It looks like they know the area well,” I mutter, mainly to myself.
Kaito answers anyway. “Probably.”
I look at him, and he looks at me. There’s no challenge in his face and, surprisingly, no pity either. Just attention, like he’s hanging on to every word that leaves my mouth. That’s something I can work with.
Pointing at the apartment block on the north side of the park, I instruct, “We follow from above as long as we can. Rooflines, balconies, ladders. No streets unless we absolutely have to, got it?”
Kaito nods once.
“And if they spot us, we disappear.”
I receive another nod.
“And if you say a damned thing about it only being a hat or anything else equally as stupid, I’ll reopen your stitches with my teeth,” I warn.
His mouth twitches, but he doesn’t smile. Wise move. “Wouldn’t dare.”
“Good,” I conclude, just as a distant horde surges again close to the wreck, groans rising like steam from a storm drain.
The three Alphas are almost out of sight now, so I stand even as my knee protests the movement.
I ignore it just like so many other things.
After all, my cap is gone, and without it, my hair feels way too bright even under my hood.
Too visible. Too much of a flag. So I pull my hood lower, tighten my bandana, and adjust the grip on my knife.
Survival begs for me to leave. It says a hat is not worth four Alphas, a mixed horde, unknown shooters, and a bleeding man who has decided my poor decisions are now a group activity.
Survival tells me to run the other way, but survival never really understood Maine. And it certainly doesn't understand me.
I step onto the narrow ledge connecting this roof to the next fire escape and Kaito follows.
Of course he does. I don’t expect anything less now.
And this time, just like the last, I let him.
Not because I need the help, or because I trust him.
Not because something in my chest has started to recognize the sound of his footsteps and breathing. Nope. None of that. None of it at all.
I tell myself I let him follow because the Alphas ahead have my brother’s hat, and I’m going to get it back. Even if I have to stalk them through every ruined inch of this district.
Even if the entire world chooses to get in my way.
Especially then.