"Sit the hell down," I growl, and the lady puts her hands in the air, even though she's the one with a loaded gun. I had stepped outside, clutching the bat. This woman, whoever she was, intruded on my land, and since I don't know her, she might be infected or worst, one of those Kravs that end up looking human; not like the monstrosity next to me boiling because of his special skin.
"Chill. I'm not looking for a fight," she says coolly and starts walking towards me. The way she's walking, assured and calm, I have every right to worry about who she is and who she could be. She's way too self-assured.
"Stay where you are!" I snarl, not letting myself get fooled by some stupid techniques. I've seen enough films to know this may be the part where I die.
"Are you Hunter Wilson?"
I sneer. "Depends who's asking."
"Ezekiel warned me you were short-tempered," she says smugly. My grip loosens just a bit. So she knows Ezekiel-Chester or whatever his name is? Her brown eyes gleam. I can't tell whether it's because of the sun or the fact that she's making fun of my hostile reaction to her presence.
"You got my goldfish?" She nods her head, putting her gun down on the floor. I think she guessed she wasn't talking to me with that loaded thing in her hands. Smart move, lady. But then again, she works with the government, because she knows Chester, and she's got a really good aim. Sadly for her, she apparently has no training whatsoever in outside grounds, because shooting a gun right out here is more than stupid. It's suicidal. "You're lucky this dude's got no friends." I kick the dead Kravmol's leg and it grunts.
"Well shit; You missed," I say accusingly, drips of sarcasm powdered on my words. She shrugs instead of getting hurt by my remark.
I can't let this monster crawl. I look at the bat in my hands and I don't have to think twice before smashing it straight into its skull. It makes a loud crack. Something that stays in your ears even if you don't want it to. The same sound every. single. time. I slowly lift the bat back up, my hands trembling ever so slightly. I see the big dent in its head, a bruise appearing on his skin that's already melting. "That's brutal," she adds, even though it's her fault it's alive.
"Are you kidding? It would've found a way to—"
I get interrupted by the crunching sound of a radio. And she brought a radio to tag along. I couldn't be having a better day.
"Do you want to come in?" I ask, because at this point, I know she's no real enemy. Not yet at least.
She nods, picks up her gun and passes a hand in her blonde fringe until she finally decides to follow me. I open the door, the stupid bell rings once again. I don't recall it ringing that much in a day. If I'm lucky, the maximum number of people that come here reach the amount of two, and most of the times, it's zero. I'm not letting my guard down fully though. This is exactly the same scenario as Chester or Ezekiel. Maybe this time I can ask for sugar and food colouring. "So, where's Chester?"
She coughs. "He told you his name?"
I let out a short laugh. "So he is named Chester?"
She answers with a mmh and takes out a packet of cigarettes. I look at them, annoyed. I drop the bat on the countertop, but my hand is still curled around the holding part of it. I wait until she's taken out her lighter to tell her the magic words. "Don't smoke."
She laughs. "Why not?" It's a fake laugh that wants me to feel hurt. I toss her annoying words away. Whatever she says can't hit me hard.
"Because I said so and this is my shop," I snap back, crossing my arms over my chest, "And it bloody attracts them."
The bell rings once again. I slowly turn left only to groan when I see his dumb face. "Did I miss anything?" he says, leaning in the doorway. There's a smug smile on his face. He seems proud of his entrance, which is pathetic. What a wannabe.
"You got my goldfish?"
He looks at me, puzzled. "You were serious?"
I sigh heavily. "Next time I want sugar and red food colouring. And please don't be a coward or this deal is dead. Full-on dead, do you hear me?" I have to repeat myself because I'm not sure he fully understands what I'm saying and that half of the time, he chooses to ignore what people tell him.
Chester nods, still doing his 'I'm half listening' face. "Who's that?" I ask cautiously, pointing my baseball bat in her direction. I do it so quickly that both of them spring backwards, scared that the baseball bat could reach them. Cowards.
"She's Willow," he says quickly because the girl with the blonde bangs—Willow, apparently—scoffed and had opened her mouth.
"Great. What's Willow doing here?" I ask sarcastically. What kind of person names their child Willow? It's a bit depressing.
"Willow will be helping you and I to not only smuggle your goods but also infiltrate the drug ring."
I laugh. A short and brutal laugh that seems to hit them like a brick in the face. "She, has no training in the outside world, wanting to smoke, and you barely survive five seconds without being annoying or banging someone." Take that, government snitches.
His face becomes bright red and Willow glares at me. "I never banged anyone," he says in a quiet voice, stuttering throughout the whole sentence. That's all he has? I'm sure that the Willow girl would argue for her sake way better.
"I got my sources, pretty boy. I know Anny can't resist a head of bloody hair and I know boys like you can't keep it in their pants."
Willow laughs sharply, her eyes all malicious. "Hey Willow, nice to meet you, I'm Hunter," I declare, a fake smile plastered on my face. I'm not sure if she managed to figure out that I was making fun of her, but I know Chester saw it because he's giving a glare that tells me I should keep my distance.
Okay, so my name isn't that great as well, considering I identify as female and the name Hunter suits the other sex way more.
"Willow's famous," adds Chester.
"Good for her," I say, not giving two-fucks. Willow can be dead, for all I care.
I'm guessing we're heading somewhere because he wouldn't bring his famous guest here to just discuss of a plan. I'm the bait and they're the so-called brains. To be fair, if Chester was to do the plan, I'm going to end up getting shot, and if Willow does it, well…I don't even want to go there.
"Get your stuff, we're going to identify where this drug deal is taking place," says Willow, her whole I'm dumb tone flying away. It makes me stop for half a second. If she is indeed this good at acting, then I might as well be dealing with the best agent that's working for the government. I'm still waiting for Chester to get that intelligence though. In just a click of fingers, her voice became as sharp as a razor's blade. I can maybe get something greater than what I had imagined.
"With no plan?" asks Chester, confused. I'm thinking the same thing, I'm just not stupid enough to ask. I'm a person that's very proud and I don't really bow down to anyone except myself. That might be arrogant of me, but who has time for arrogance nowadays?
"Shut up, Chester," she says through her gritted teeth. Being humiliated in front of a poor person? What a horrendous mistake. I laugh at his naivety and at her embarrassed face.
"Where are we heading?" I ask cautiously. Still waiting for Chester to show at least just one hint of intellect. But no. The guy's too caught up in my pink potatoes to worry about the mission the government sent him on.
"We're starting our little trip north of this city."
I nearly choke on my own saliva. "Over in Blackbrook? That's your genius plan?" I spit, my voice filled with venom. You think my town's dangerous? You don't even want to take a glimpse of Blackbrook.
"She doesn't have a plan," declares Chester, and he immediately gets greeted by two 'shut ups' Blackbrook. Those two fuckers are planning on taking me to one of the most dangerous places on this wasted planet? No frickin' way. I take in several deep breaths. Either I say no, I get taken all of my privileges taken away, they might even send assassins my way because I know too much, or I go with them and I risk my miserable life in the lively town that Blackbrook once was. It's empty, dead now. Even the beggars don't dare adventure into the infected zone.
"Fine. But I really need that sugar."
I hate that I'm sounding like I'm begging them. I don't want to be under them, nor equal to them. I do believe I've lived more my life than them, even though they both are older—by a few years only—than me. I can't be the slave carried in cuffs. I need to be the Queen looking down at the slaves. I need to have a certain control over my life. A control that only I can possess. Not them. Not the government, but me. "And plastic. And small ropes."
Willow nods, her hair moving at the same time. Her brown eyes fix me, scan me as if she was a robot identifying me and stocking me into her database.
"There's a worm in your potato." There's a slight moment of silence before I react.
I look at Chester alarmed. "Don't tou—" He lets out a loud howl, then he yelps. Then he jumps around, clutching in his finger before finally throwing the potato on the wall, centimetres from where I threw mine at his face.
"Tell me he knew that the worms bite," I say, frustrated by all this commotion. I'm talking to Willow, but she stays silent, leaning against one of the walls on which was hanging a rotting poster saying, "Buy One Get One Free!" You can't really read the words correctly, and all of the colour is long gone. I've never touched it because I have absolutely no idea what kind of sickness a rotting poster can give you, and I don't want to lay a finger on it anytime soon.
"Give me your finger," I say, and tug his whole arm towards me. He doesn't budge. It even seems to amuse him. I groan and look at him dead in the eyes. I'm menacing, that I know. I can see the hairs on his body stand up, but he doesn't seem to raise his guard.
"Listen to me," I spit, my voice cold as the night, "You barged into my shop, you put blood on my countertop, you annoyed the absolute shit out of me and now you throw a potato that happens to be my only source of food against the wall?! Have a minimum amount of respect for those of us who actually do fucking things!" I growl, my nails gripping so tightly in his skin that Willow has to push us apart. I glare at him. His green eyes narrowed fiercely. He has the eyes of growling panthers, deep green, dangerous green. They send shivers up and down my spine. He let his mask fall. There's no more laughing or being idiotic. I've shown my true colours, so has he. I look down to his lips, the shivers coming back. They form only one word. One that silences my stomach and my voice.
"Die," he mutters ever so silently.