Chapter Thirty-Eight
White Ravens
Gage
Their driver, Callahan, slowed, then came to a smooth stop.
“We’re here,” Scar said, leaning towards him, humor lacing his voice. “Cover your eyes. No peeking.”
Gage laughed, loud and full, before he punched Scar’s shoulder. “Very funny.”
He slammed the car door closed and paused to listen to his environment.
Generator motors whirred and metal rattled in a weird rhythm. Kids and people were shrieking, with fun, and maybe a little terror. Laughter and countless footsteps scurried in different directions.
The smells overlapped in a good way. Sugar, fried dough, popcorn, and the faint diesel bite from whatever machines were powering the loud—
What in the heavens?
Gage slid his cane over the ground. The flat Braille pad near the grip shifted beneath his fingers, identifying the terrain.
Asphalt.
He turned toward Scar, a huge grin already spreading across his face. “You brought me to a carnival.”
“Yeah, but if you don’t wanna stay then…”
“Heck yeah, I wanna stay.” He laughed. “Take me to the first cotton candy vendor you see, and we’ll go from there.”
He kissed Scar’s smile, then slipped his hand into his.
They flowed with the crowd, and Gage listened to it the same way he listened to any space he entered—picking apart the sounds he understood and cataloging the ones he didn’t.
It was stimulating and affecting him in ways he never could’ve imagined.
It wasn’t just the noise and smells, it was the entire life of it. The strings and rows of endless lights made the air warm, music vibrated through his ribs, and the happiness around him was so potent it felt contagious.
And Scar had thought of it.
He’d chosen a place where he could hear joy, smell it, and feel it in the ground.
The surprise wasn’t just a date, it was so much more than that.
It was Scar understanding how he lived his new life.
While he stood in line for his cotton candy, he leaned in and whispered near Scar’s ear.
“This feels amazing. Thank you.”
Scar squeezed his hand. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He lifted his head. “It feels…alive.”
When the cotton candy hit his hands, it also felt alive, as if he was holding a real cloud, and he smiled even more. He was doing so much of that his jaw was starting to ache.
He pulled away a piece, and it stuck to his fingertips before he shoved it into his mouth, the sugar instantly turning into air when it touched his tongue.
Scar made a satisfied noise beside him. “This funnel cake is good. Open up.”
Gage turned his face toward Scar’s voice, and a piece of warm, powdered sweetness was eased between his lips.
He bit down, and the crunch of fried edges and gooey middle made a low groan escape his mouth before he could stop it. It’d been so long since he’d had carnival food, he’d forgotten how delicious and nostalgic it could be.
“Mm.” Gage licked the sugar off Scar’s finger without thinking.
Scar went still for a half second, then groaned. “You’re fuckin’ killin’ me.”
Gage finished his cotton candy and stole the last half of Scar’s funnel cake before he blurted like a kid on a sugar high, “Take me to the biggest roller coaster they have—no. Bumper cars next!”
Scar stopped walking. “Are you serious?”
“Hell yeah.” Gage was damn near jumping up and down. “It’ll be the only time I get to drive. Theres barriers, and I can slam into anything I want.”
“Yeah, and other people can slam into you too.” Scar said.
Gage shrugged. “I’ll leave that problem for you to handle.”
Scar muttered a few curse words as he guided him toward the pandemonium of rattling rails, a ground that vibrated with an electrical hum, crash after crash of chaos, and speakers blaring bass-heavy music.
He made sure to collapse his cane until it resembled a compact umbrella, so he wasn’t denied entrance. Scar discreetly led him to his car, and he climbed inside by memory—since it appeared the cars hadn’t changed since he was a boy.
The steering wheel was worn smooth, tacky from thousands of hands, but he didn’t care. He fastened his seat belt and waited for the buzzer.
Gage listened. He didn’t just hear screams. He heard where everyone was and where they were headed. And of course, Scar bellowing directions at him.
“Left, left, Gage!”
Gage laughed hard as he cranked the wheel. His car jolted forward, and the first collision made a satisfying thud ricochet up his spine. He hollered out, the sound mingling with everyone else’s.
“Right, Gage!”
He was hit on his side and again in the rear, spinning him a hundred and eighty degrees.
So much for Scar backing him up. Yelling left-right like an idiot wasn’t stopping him from getting hit.
Gage locked onto the kid’s obnoxious giggle, found him, and rammed the hell out of him.
When the ride ended and the power cut, he unhooked his seat belt and climbed out. His legs were shaky in the best way.
He found Scar by the scent of his expensive cologne, grabbed and hugged him, peppering kisses on his cheeks.
“Thank you,” he whispered against his ear.
He didn’t only mean for the ride, he was referring to all of it.
He squeezed Scar’s wrist and pulled, “Roller coaster next, the biggest one they have.”
Scar made a dreadful sound. “Gage, handsome, I hate roller coasters. I thought we were just gonna’ walk around, play some games, maybe win a goldfish, or a hermit crab or some shit, and eat a bunch of junk. Not actually get on these death contraptions.”
“Aww,” he teased, nudging under Scar’s chin. “You’re scared?”
“No I’m not,” Scar grumbled. “But I have watched all six Final Destination movies. And this is a pop-up carnival, which means that roller coaster was on the back of an eighteen-wheeler a month ago. It can’t be very well-constructed. I bet it’s missing screws and half the tracks are duct taped.”
Gage laughed and pulled on Scar with more force. “I’ll say a little prayer, and we’ll be fine. Now let’s go.”
Scar cursed again, but he went.
The roller coaster was different from bumper cars. The bumper cars could be controlled. This was total surrender.
At the crest, the air changed, the wind built, and space opened.
Then the drop.
His stomach lifted into his throat as his world was reduced to speed, gravity, and the rush of air in his face.
He couldn’t see the curve coming, but he felt it in the clanking track, and the way everyone’s screams heightened at the exact same time.
Scar was screaming too.
He hollered through the drop, wild and breathless, holding on for dear life and to this joy he hoped would never end.
When they stumbled off, his whole body buzzed like a live wire. He turned toward Scar, pointing in his face. “I didn’t know you could scream that high.”
“I wasn’t screaming,” Scar said hoarsely.
“Then what do you call it? I could hear you over the little girls behind me.”
“I was whistling,” Scar growled. “Now shut up.”
“You were whistling, ‘Stop! I wanna get off! I wanna get off!’”
Scar bit him on his cheek, before he smiled against his throat.
They walked like a couple, hands linked, Scar navigating them through the dense parts of the crowd without making it feel like guiding.
He passed a vendor booth that smelled like hot caramel, sticky sweet and mouthwatering.
“Are those candy apples over there?” he asked.
Scar stopped. “Yep.”
“I want one.”
“You’re gorging. All this sugar’s gonna’ make you sick.”
“So what?” He pressed into Scar’s chest, hovering his mouth against his. “You denying me?”
Scar slid his arms around his back and pulled him closer. “You trying to wrap me around your little finger?”
Gage smiled and nodded. “Is it working?”
Scar kissed him and murmured a single word, “Yes.”
They walked until he was almost finished with his apple when he heard balloons popping.
He slowed. “I used to love that game.”
“The balloon darts?”
“Yeah.”
“You wanna play?”
“Maybe,” he shrugged. “What are the prizes?”
Scar sucked his teeth. “Stupid shit. Lots of little stuffed animals, and on the top tier is a giant neon tiger, a purple dinosaur with glitter eyes, and a four-foot shark.”
He turned toward Scar, hoping his face showed a decent enough pout.
“Don’t do that. You’re an assassin for fuck’s sake.”
Gage held the expression.
Scar rumbled before he led him toward the booth.
The carnie greeted them obnoxiously. “Step right up and test your aim! Pop ’em all, win big! Win huge!”
The darts were placed into Scar’s hand.
“I’m not playing…he is.”
Scar put all six into his palm.
The booth went quiet in a way Gage could feel. Then the whispers started.
He leaned his cane against the low counter. He heard the little gasps, the mutters, people shuffling closer, trying to figure out what they were seeing.
Gage smiled toward the carnie’s voice. “To keep it fair, since everybody else can see the balloons, can I feel the board first? Then I’ll step back over and shoot like everyone else.”
Scar cut in, his voice hard as if daring the guy to say no. “Sounds more than fair.”
Someone nearby echoed, “That’s fair.”
Another voice, “Yeah, let him.”
Gage didn’t wait for permission. He planted one hand on the counter and cleared it in a single leap.
The crowd swelled even more.
He reached out and grazed his open hands over the balloons. Some spots were empty from already being popped, others had decent sized clusters. He mapped the board in seconds, then smoothly hopped back over the barrier.
A woman close by whispered, “That guy’s cool as hell, and hot.”
Gage grinned at the shot to his ego.
The carnie cleared his throat. “All right then. Two balloons gets you a small prize. Four, you get one from the mid-tier, and six, you win big.”
“Got it.”
Then the carnie added, “If you hit one, I’ll still give you something.”
“Hey,” Scar snapped. “Don’t fuckin’ do that. He don’t need a fuckin’ pity gift.”
Gage reached out and touched Scar’s shoulder in a quiet signal. It’s fine.
Scar shut his mouth, but Gage could still feel his protective anger.
He stepped back from the counter, paused, then kept going.
The crowd’s hushed murmurs escalated.