Page 18 of Sick Bargain

Cain opens drawers and looks at all the electrical cords of my appliances while I sniff around, trying to figure out whereit’s coming from. Outside, sirens blare to remind residents to stay the fuck inside. Screams follow the sirens, and booms echo through town. Through my kitchen window, I see the orange glow of something on fire in the distance.

“Nothing in here,” Cain says, confused and still sipping his fourth beer.

I pull open the door to the basement and slam it shut again. Grey smoke slinks up the stairs, slipping out the crack at the bottom of the door.

“Fuck.” I press my back to it. “Is there a fire extinguisher under the sink? I keep one there.”

Cain’s eyes are panicked now, but he opens the cupboard and throws everything in there onto the floor. He’s taking too long, so I step away and run upstairs, where I know I keep another extinguisher in the linen closet. But I don’t get far.

“Fucking fuck!” I shout, watching more smoke curl from under closed bedroom doors. “Cain! There’s a fire! Hurry!” I pull open the linen closet and reach for the extinguisher. But it’s not there. It’s not where I normally keep it. With my shirt over my mouth and nose, I rip out towels and sheets and pillowcases, rooting through the closet because I fucking know it’s in here.I know!Because I put it there a few months ago when the cord from my coffee maker sparked up and blew a fuse.

“I can’t find it!” Cain shouts. “It’s not in here. Remi, what the fuck is going on?” I hear him turn on the sink to fill pots with water, but what are they going to do when my whole house is on fire? “Remi! Get down here,” he shouts, sounding more alarmed than a second ago.

Fuck. I sprint down the stairs, skipping three at a time. Smoke is drifting down from upstairs, creeping down each step like silent death. In the kitchen, Cain’s eyes have turned blank, and real fear lines his face. In his hand, he holds up the fourth calling card. A skeletal torso splashed in purple.

“It was under the sink,” he says, voice cold. “Where the fire extinguisher should be.”

All the blood drains from my face, every alarm bell inside me going off at once.

Burn or run, Remiel.

“What’s it say?” I ask, hesitant to touch it.

Cain flips it around to show me one word:

prey.

Burn or run, Remiel.

Run? On Initiation Night. My house is about to turn into an inferno, and anyone caught outside on Initiation Night is fair game. I look at my shirtless best friend, and he sees the panic in my eyes, but he also sees my guilt. Because of me, he’s going to have to go outside on Vile night, and if he doesn’t live through until morning, I will succumb to my family curse far sooner than planned.

“Anything you want to tell me, Remi?” he asks, flicking the card at me.

It hits my chest and flutters to the wooden floor, the kitchen now filling with smoke. “I’m so sorry, Cain.”

We both jump when something explodes outside. Through the kitchen window, that orange glow from a car fire is closer now. Because it’s my car on fire, right there in my driveway. In front of it, two black figures stand with weapons in their hands. Glinting blades reflect the fire, but their masks are easy to make out.

Purple and blue.

Cain looks at me, and I grip his hand. “We have to run,” he says. “Out the back door. Just fucking run through backyards until we get to my place.” He spins me while we choke on smoke. His hands grab the sides of my face, and something bangs against the kitchen window, shattering it. We both jump. “We can make it, Remi. We can fucking make it.”

Trying is the only option we have.

Burn or run, Remiel.

Prey.

8

IRRATIONAL ASSHOLE

KRYPT

That little fuckertouchesmyRemiel. Hands on either side of his face through the window while they strategize their next move. I throw a rock at it, shattering the glass to get them moving. Cain’s hands drop, but I don’t breathe easier.

Menace laughs beside me, his wicked smile hidden beneath his black and blue mask. Menace has a history with Cain, and he was more than willing to join me tonight. Because I need Cain out of my way, and Menace is an eager hunter when it comes to the tattooed one.

“They’re gonna go out the back,” he says, pacing in anticipation of the hunt. “Fuck, I hope they can run.”

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