Page 37 of Gunpowder

10

GREEN

In recent years, green had overtaken the colorless grunge of the brick walls of College Point, moving from alley to alley like a cancer. It was just as aggressive, just as hard to eradicate once it began to spread. Green began to crawl down from the walls, into the phones, lighting up screens with the interface for the Phantom app. Once it entered the bloodstream of the internet, there was no stopping it. The green reached the heart of the city in no time.

Julian shook the can and sprayed another layer where the original green graffiti still showed through the Incindious flames now adorning the wall. The black duffle bag at his feet had carried dozens of cans when they arrived. Most of them were empty at this point, their contents covering the marks Phantom had left before them, a war cry of paint and aerosol.

Marie’s hand stopped halfway through reaching out to take Blair’s empty can. “They’re coming.”

“I can’t believe it took them this long,” Blair said.

A few seconds after the sound reached Marie’s keen ears, Blair heard heavy footsteps rounding the corner into the alley. They weren’t quite running but they were definitely in a hurry. It was just dark enough for the streetlamps to have come on and let Blair count a half dozen men as they flooded into the narrow space.

“I don’t think we should fight them,” Julian said.

Marie placed a small hand on Blair’s elbow. “They have the advantage here, we wouldn’t get these guys down before more showed up.”

“Don’t worry.” He gave her a reassuring grin. “We just came to make them mad. Go get the car, I’ll keep ‘em busy”

“Don’t get carried away!” Julian called over his shoulder as he ran with Marie for the other end of the alley.

Blair drew his gun as they retreated, and he cocked it as soon as he could no longer hear them. He turned to the men that had finally reached him and fanned out to block his path. One of them was holding a switchblade but Blair would wager that some if not most of them were armed with more than that.

“Incindious must have a death wish,” snarked a tall man with a distinct absence of hair.

The one next to him laughed, and Blair recognized him as the asshole with the brass knuckles that was waiting outside the elevator after all hell broke loose at the cage fight. “Felix must be losing his touch to be sending kids out to do his dirty work.”

Blair shrugged one shoulder. “How about you try me then.”

As soon as he heard the scuff of a shoe moving forward on the pavement, he fired. One, two. Inhale. One, two as he exhaled. Inhale. The last two as he exhaled. The men staggered back after having a shot neatly fired between each of their feet.

“That’s your only warning,” Blair said as the last shell casing hit the ground. “Take another step and I’ll add your blood to the rest of the nice red on this wall.”

The bald one spit on the ground. “You’re all fucking crazy.”

A car horn blared at the other end of the alley and Blair backed up with his gun still trained on the men spread out in front of him. They had clustered closer together after the warning shots, but he didn’t take his eyes off of them until he was close enough to hear the engine rumbling behind him.

“If you think I’m crazy, be glad the boss wasn’t here.” He opened the door to the Lexus and raised his gun, letting the streetlamp illuminate the Incindious insignia on the grip. “Tell Isaac we said hi.”

He was still closing the door when he heard gunshots ring out over the squall of Julian spinning tires, but none of their shots seemed to connect. He grinned and settled back against the passenger’s seat. In the rearview mirror he saw Marie with her hands folded in her lap, looking as peaceful as ever in the middle of the chaos.

“I can’t believe Spencer let you drive his car,” he said as Julian whipped around someone that slowed down to take a turn.

“’Let me’ might be the wrong way to put it.” Julian grinned sheepishly. “He got tired of me hotwiring it and finally gave me a key.”

Blair chuckled and ran a hand over his forearm. It throbbed slightly from the recoil of six consecutive shots and it felt something like an accomplishment. Since Adrian had shot him, Blair broke out in a cold sweat every time he saw a gun that wasn’t his own, or when he was in a situation where a gun might get pulled on him. He couldn’t afford to freeze when the fighting started. Part of him had wavered when he pulled his gun in the alleyway, wondering if his aim had been affected as badly as his mind.

Every bullet hit its mark, though, and with each round he fired he could feel a little more of that doubt bleeding out of him.

It felt good to send a message to Phantom, but god it was nice to see his apartment. Blair locked the door and leaned back against it. With everything that had gone on since he was shot, it was easy to forget how short a time it had been until his leg politely reminded him. He looked over at the kitchen, at the couple of bowls in the sink, and the haphazard pile of unopened mail on the counter. Fuck it, he could clean up later. He wanted a shower, but he could take that later, too. Right now nothing looked more inviting than his bed.

He threw his t-shirt off the side of the stairs and took his shoes off at the edge of the bed. Taking his pants off sounded like more effort than it was worth, so he settled for popping the button to loosen them, letting them hang off his hips. He pulled the chain to turn the ceiling fan on and dropped down on the bed hard enough for it to creak in protest, but it had survived this long so he wasn’t concerned. The only spring coming through was at the end and easy to avoid with his feet. With a few undignified movements, he toed his socks off and pushed them off the side of the bed. Much better.

Blair dropped his head on the pillows and closed his eyes. It wasn’t even that late, but the fatigue of the past couple weeks was catching up to him. His body was a big, aching ball of stress. He reached down the front of his pants to trace the healing bullet hole. It still felt weird for the stitches not to be there, for the skin to be held together on its own. He traced the uneven edges, careful to avoid the scabbing wound itself. He hated to admit it but he probably would have accidentally opened it up trying to take the stitches out himself if Wren hadn’t done it for him. If he concentrated, let his own fingers go still, he could imagine Wren’s touch ghosting over his skin.

He hadn’t kissed many people, but he’d done it enough times to know kissing Wren felt completely different. It made Blair feel less like there was something wrong with him. Most of the intimacy he’d experienced had been out of curiosity, but he hadn’t understood that driving need that everyone seemed to have except for him. Sex was less of an urge for him and more of just an idea that he found interesting. The closest he’d come to truly wanting it was with the girlfriend he had in junior year, and even that had taken months of being together.

It was different with Wren. Sometime between Wren showing up on his doorstep to ask about a lizard and watching Wren save Adam’s life, something started stirring in Blair’s chest and along with it, a curiosity for how Wren’s hands would feel on his body. Wren being sexy as hell didn’t help but Blair had seen a lot of attractive people and none of them made him feel like this.

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