(2013) Shooter (11 page)

I handed over the bag and the rifle over to Daisuke; who took them without another word. I think Constance was helping him load things into the car. It was still amazing me that she was taking this so well.

A thought came to me. "Hey, Julie?"

"Heh?" she puffed, trying to push a steel footlocker out of the way. I scooted over to help her.

"I have something to ask you."

"Then spit it out." She said, not impatiently.

"My sister's not safe. And I can't keep an eye on her. I wanted to ask you if you could…" I trailed off.

Julia stopped pushing the trunk. When I looked up at her, she was smiling at me. "You didn't even need to ask."

I felt the huge, goofy grin spread over my face with the relief that was spreading.

If Julia was looking out for her, then there was no need for me to worry.

"In fact, I'll keep both." She continued.

"I… thanks… I owe you."

Julia shook her head. "Nah. I'll be paying you back for the rest of my life, as it is."

And that was the end of the conversation, apparently, because she went back to her (failing) attempt to move the giant footlocker. And I tried to help, really I did, but it didn't move an inch, until Daisuke popped back in and sent it scooting four feet with a nonchalant kick.

"Holy shit." I'd said.

The four-wheel drive SUV bounced slightly with imperfections in the road, lulling me to sleep.

Before we'd set out, Constance had bear-hugged me 'round the neck, and very nearly cried. She was less aware than the rest of us about the ramifications of what was going on, but she knew that I might not (probably wouldn't) come back. That much, Daisuke had apparently explained to her.

I was still shitting my pants about how calm she was.

Julia hugged me, much more gently, (thank god) and whispered in my ear, "You get killed, and so help me, I won't let you rest."

When she let go, she flashed me the barest hint of a dangerous smile.

"Don't worry about it." I grinned.

"Alright, alright, let's go. Doesn't pay to hang around." Daisuke interjected, ushering me off to the passenger's side door. I'd given a jaunty little wave to my sister and my best friend, and we drove off.

Now, the sun was peeking up over the horizon, staining the sky a deep pink. Fifteen minutes in the car had made me realize how tired I was.

"Wake me up when we get there." I mumbled, unable to keep my eyes open any longer.

I think it was a particularly violent bounce that roused me, but I woke slowly, looking around and yawning.

I'd apparently slumped over, because I found that my head was on Daisuke's shoulder, and his arm was over my shoulders. But I didn't move.

Don't judge me. It was warm right where I was.

"Are we there, yet?" I grumbled.

"Oh. Good morning, Sleeping Beauty." Daisuke laughed softly. "Thank god you don't drool or snore."

I rolled my eyes. "You didn't answer my question."

"We have about an hour to go." I was pretty sure he sounded amused.

"How long have I been asleep?" I wondered aloud.

"Two hours or so. I haven't really been watching the clock."

He was shaking, slightly, and damn him, I think he was laughing at me. 'Course, I might have just been thinking paranoid thoughts again.

"Hmm… fun." I rolled my eyes.

"Hey, since you're awake, I have an idea."

"What's that?" I sat up and stretched as far as the vehicle's cab would let me.

"Let's play a game."

"What kind of game?"

Daisuke grinned. "One of names a letter, and the other one comes up with a band that starts with that letter. You go first."

"Uh… T." I named a random character.

"Trapt. A" Daisuke fired off.

"Anberlin. A"

"Same letter? Okay… Atreyu. U."

"Underoath. S."

"Saosin. P."

"Pantera. B."

"Breaking Benjamin. D."

"Dropkick Murphy's. C."

"Coldplay. R."

"Rise Against. R again."

"Rage Against The Machine… T."

"Tokio Hotel. L."

"Lacuna Coil. D."

"Disturbed. L again."

"Lamb of God. D again."

"Uh… Drop Dead Gorgeous. F."

"Flyleaf. M"

"Metro Station. R."

"The Rolling Stones. B"

"The Beatles. C."

"Ooh, retro. Cobra Starship. E."

"Eh… E?"

"Can't think of one?"

"Nope." I shrugged.

"Heh. You lose." Daisuke taunted.

"Leave me alone. I'm sleepy." I pouted.

"I'm just surprised. I always lose that game. Finally found someone I can beat."

"Who do you usually play that with?" I asked, with mild curiosity.

"Julia. Which is a bad idea, because she's like, the music guru."

"This is true. Well, congrats. You found a less worthy opponent to own." I laughed.

"Thank you. I'm proud of myself." He glanced back at the road and swerved to avoid some idiot who had hopped a lane in front of us, his smile never leaving his face. Meanwhile, I had to close my eyes and take a deep breath in order to avoid a breakdown. "Whoa… you alright, Grace?"

"I'm fine." I breathed through my teeth. "No problem here."

"You went all pale. What's wrong?"

"Swerving makes me nervous."

"Oh… I'll remember that, then."

"I'm good." I slowly relaxed my grip on the seat's arm. "Damn. Thought I was over that."

"Over what?" Daisuke nudged my knee.

"Car accident when I was younger. Had me scared to get in a car for a long time."

"That bad?"

"Totaled the car and about took my leg off." I mumbled, and pulled the leg of my jeans up to reveal a thick, ropy scar that went halfway around my left calf.

"Oh, so that's what that's from." Daisuke nodded. "But wait… if you have that problem, then why are you such a speed demon?"

"I really don't know. I guess it might be because I wasn't driving at the time… so when I am driving… it's not there."

"I'll remember that, then. Sorry, Grace."

"It's fine, not your fault." I shrugged and smiled at him.

Daisuke smiled back and then smacked his forehead, having apparent forgotten something.

"I've gone and neglected to wish you a happy birthday." He smiled a little wider. "And I got you something."

"Really?" I looked over. "That was thoughtful."

"You haven't really seen it, yet." Daisuke chuckled and reached into a pocket, extracting a small, pristinely wrapped package and handed it to me.

I have to say, the metallic green packaging was a little too pretty to tear apart… but I did anyway.

"I thought the color was nice. Matches your eyes." I had to smile a little wider at that.

With the paper aside, I now held a small black box, about as long as my hand. I popped it open and found an intricately wrought silver crucifix on a fine chain. A tiny ruby was set into the center of the cross, where the bars met. I wound up staring at it for a few moments, tracing a thread of metal with a fingertip. "It's beautiful."

"It was my mother's."

I looked up in surprise. "And you're giving it to me?"

Because he was an orphan, like me. Anything from his parents would be precious.

"It's special to me." He glanced off, and stared out onto the road. Was he… blushing? "So are you."

I was more or less at a complete loss for words, at this point, so I focused on the clasp, and got the necklace on without too much difficulty. I situated it right next to the one Constance had given me.

I happened to be mildly amused that everyone seemed to be giving me religious symbols, of all things.

I finally managed to speak, and it sounded lame. "Thank you. I love it."

Though as lame as my reply was, Daisuke seemed really pleased. In fact, he sat there and grinned to himself, and we passed the rest of the car ride in companionable silence.

I was about to nod off again when we pulled up in front of a really dingy looking bar and parked.

I wasn't entirely sure when we'd crossed the city line into Johnson, but here we were, apparently.

"Let's get this over with, I grumbled, not thrilled, and stepped lightly from the car.

"Won't be that bad."

"Is this actually the place?" I asked skeptically. It looked
really
ghetto.

"That's what Kendall said."

"Hm." We sidled up to the front door of the bar and entered, a tiny bell tethered to the doorframe announcing our arrival.

It took me a moment to realize that there was indeed anyone here, until I caught a small curl of smoke rising over a back booth.

We strode slowly to the back, meandering a bit, until I heard the almost silent click of a weapon chamber. I halted, and Daisuke hovered somewhere to my left.

"I'm here to see Sinclaire." I announced with much more confidence in my voice than I was feeling at the time.

A head popped up over the top of the old booth seat. Sandy-blonde hair, plain female features. Someone who could easily blend in to a crowd.

"If it isn't little Graecia. What happened to your face?" She asked, somehow managing to look slightly concerned.

I bit back as much fury as I could, even as I felt the phantom gun barrel on the nape of my neck again. "That's why I'm here."

"Ah." She dropped it, and stood up from the booth. Now that I could see her properly, I noticed that she was dressed much the same as myself, though her holster rig didn't have space for any knives like mine did. "And even roughed up, you still look better than last time I saw you. 'Least you're not pissing yourself this time."

"I suppose that's a good thing." I snapped coldly.

She leered at me. "Aw, don't tell me you're holding a grudge?"

"A small one, perhaps."

She shrugged. "Well, I can't say that I really even blame you."