Kate
Bright red blood drips from his hands when he emerges from the fog. I have no idea how long it’s taken, but I’ve been sitting in front of the remains of what was once a coffee shop. I already walked through the ruins and found a small treasure—an unopened bag of coffee beans. Now I’m sitting here sucking on one bean at a time, savoring the feel of the surge of caffeine through my veins. I’m also rocking back and forth uncontrollably, anxious as hell.
“What are you ingesting now?” he asks when he reaches me.
“Coffee beans. Dark Roast,” I say, holding out the bag for him to see.
Jackass digs his hand in my beans and shoves them in his mouth. I blast out a good hardy laugh before he chews once and spits the entire mouthful onto the sidewalk. His mouth twists into a pinched-up frown as he glares at me. “What is wrong with this place?”
I shrug and laugh more. “Maybe you should leave?” I slowly chomp down on a coffee bean; sharp bitterness fills my mouth. “Coffee is a staple in our diet. I personally can’t function without it.”
He spits again and wipes the back of his hand over his mouth. “Make sure to eat the whole bag then. Your functioning skills are lacking.”
I roll my eyes and continue chewing. It really is a disgusting taste, but my head has been killing me from lack of my regular morning coffee and hell, I don’t want him to know I hate it just as much as he did.
Hanging from his shoulder is an oversized beach bag. It’s neon blue and across the front, it says,Welcome to New York, now go the fuck home. Sticking out from the top are two metal boots. He sees me eyeing them but says nothing. I wonder what the things look like now without all their armor on; do they look human like him?
He adjusts the strap of the bag over his shoulder and strides past. “Try and keep up,” he mumbles.
“Asshole,” I mumble back, flipping him the finger.
His stride comes to a complete halt. “What was that gesture?”
“Hmm, what?” I say, stepping past him feigning confusion.
His eyes narrow.
“Oh, yeah, right this,” I say, flipping him my middle finger again, but this time double fisting it. “I was saluting you. That’s how we do it here,” I say, smiling and pulling my extra shirt wrapped around my neck over my mouth again.
He mumbles something else behind me but I can’t hear him.
Around us, the air has a thickening quality to it, too thick to carry sound, like the dense hush of a heavy snowfall. Plus, it reeks of rot and decay.
“The air here is too full,” he says as he catches up with my pace. Again, I wonder if he can read my thoughts or if he’s just trying to make small talk with me about obvious stuff.
“Wasn’t like this until you idiots dropped in,” I grumble under the material covering my mouth. Then call him adumbass planet-stealing asshatin my head to see if mind reading is one of his abilities.
He shakes his head and gives me a small sideways glance. “Your air quality was poor when we got here.”
I stop walking and jam my hands on my hips. “Why did you come here, then?”
He shakes his head and keeps walking silently for a while. I follow, just as silently.
“The man that was with you?” he asks.
My eyes dart in his direction. We’re climbing over a field of debris—broken concrete and metal beams. “My father.”
“He’s different.” It isn’t a question.
“More like confused,” I say.
“He ran away when—”
“Look,” I say darkly, stopping on top of a large mound of unsteady bricks. I hold my arms out for balance. “He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t know who he is, and he’s just really confused.” I sweep one hand out in front of us. “This isn’t helping, either. None of us know what’s going on.” The rocks wobble frantically under the soles of my boots.
He blinks up at me and I lose my footing, slipping down the pile of rocks.
The beach bag of metal parts drops to the ground and his arms are instantly around me, catching me before I tumble over the jagged surface. My eyes shoot up, locking on his, as my feet dangle in the air. One hand is around my waist as another pulls me up from the back of my knees, cradling me like a baby. His eyes don’t look away from mine.
