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.
Chapter 4
Reuben
I find myself distracted even when dealing with the next assailant. His features blur with all the others, but just like them, he has that same nauseating colour in the air around him, a visual manifestation of his hostility.
Murky, brown crimson
He’s wearing a useless bulletproof vest like the rest of them, but instead of a gun, he’s holding two fancy long blades. I feel bad for the guy really. He’s twirling them around in his hands as though I’ll win a prize by correctly guessing which one will deal the killing blow. I grab his wrist when the blade comes down from above, grab the other aiming for my open side, kick him in the balls, then shoot him in the face when he goes down.
It’s anticlimactic really.
His partner rushes towards me next, his features just as easily forgettable and that same disgusting colour creeping into my vision, but all I’m thinking is…
Did Christian really throw himself over two kids he barely met?
“Ha.” I can’t help the grin from spreading on my face. How is he still alive with all that softness?
My outburst throws the man in front of me into a hissy fit—pretty self-centred if you ask me. His swings become sharper and faster, and it takes just a bit more energy to get out of the way, until I throw my arm over his, mid-swing, grab his collar with my other hand and twist my body to pull him into the air and down to the ground.
I admit I wasn’t paying attention, because this position is awkward now for both of us. I stomp each of my feet onto his wrists, plant my weight on his chest—
And shoot him between the eyes.
It’s only ever in that moment that the colours finally disappear. Sucked out of the room as if they were never there—my only real taste of normalcy—a glimpseof what normal people see when they look at others.
I was maybe around 12 when I realized that was the only way to get rid of it. It was around that time too thatAbuelitatold me I had chaotic energies inside me.
Even so, I haven’t been able to stop since. Unlike painters who transform blank canvases into masterpieces of colour, I can only find my joy in stripping the colour away.
And even then, I can’t erase it completely, because all that’s left behind are the pigments and textures of warm blood.
I pull myself out of my thoughts to get to my feet. Thanks to the redirection of gunfire, I can finally take a good look at what’s happening outside the store. Wesley is huddled behind an unfamiliar van, likely belonging to the family of four inside, using his pistol to draw the attention away from us. The explosion was likely his doing but although it was able to take out two of them, there are still four more to go.
