Everything Fails. T Van Santana
didn’t wait. I just moved, went in behind him like in blades class and took him down. I had him pinned by the throat and choking out in about three seconds.
Wendy walked up next to me. “That’s cool, baby. Now do him.”
Rand’s masked face stopped wiggling.
I looked over my shoulder at Wendy. “What?”
“Kill him.”
“He’s gonna be out in just a second …”
Wendy shot him in the face.
The kid screamed.
I held his twitching body under me, familiar again. It was a body that I had clung to, however long ago and however insignificant, and it touched my memory in a familiar way, familiar almost in the sense of family, like we’re all people related and should not be hurting each other. And we should not have been.
Slowly, I pulled my hand back. “Fuck. Why did you do that?”
“He’s an asshole,” Wendy said.
“Yeah, but …”
My mind was blurry with chems surging, natural and augged. I couldn’t see it clearly. Had I …
“And now he’s nobody,” Wendy said. “Let’s go.”
I looked over at the kid, who’s staring at me, tears in the eyes, their mother wrapped around them, covered in Rand’s remains. Her face wore contempt, not gratitude.
I wanted to say I was sorry. But I didn’t say anything.
Mickie put her hand on me, light in the fingers. “C’mon. It’ll be okay.”
I gave Rand one last look and stood up.
We walked right out the building. No alarm went off. No security came for us. My nerves were absolutely fucking fried.
After we were down the steps, Wendy peeled her mask off.
“Let’s go dancing,” she said. “I kinda got a beat in my feet.”
“I just wanna go home,” I said.
Wendy put her eyes on me. “Don’t be boring.”
Mickie pulled her mask off and stood in front of me. “If I asked you to go, would you go?”
My blood told me right away. “Hell yes,” I said.
She smiled, long teeth and red lips. “Rad. Then will you go with me?”
“For as long as you want.”
I thought she was going to kiss me, but it didn’t happen then. She put my hand in both of hers, then turned around and walked me back to the car, with Wendy and Roxy.
The blur of the liberation washed away in whirring cars in music beats.
Wendy slid a hand down her front as she crouched low, then pushed herself back up again while Mickie leaned in close, towering over her.
Roxy was next to me. Out of it, but smiling. “Two foxy bitches,” she said.
I felt nervous. “Yeah. How are you feelin’?”
She shrugged. “You know me. Fucked up. Nothin’ new.”
“You look tired.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Well I am. Tired as shit.” Roxy laid her head on my shoulder.
My nerves were still screaming, but the connection with Roxy calmed me. I was anxious. But calmer. She and I had some history, too. And like everything in my fucking life, it wasn’t simple.
Mickie walked up, let out a long hand. “Dance with me,” she said, and she said it sweetly.
Roxy sat up. Nodded her head, said, “Go on.”
I took Mickie’s hand, and she pulled me up and close.
My world recessed, then exploded into a galaxy its own within her eyes. We had discovered this place, a spiral in which only she and I could dwell.
She let her arms around my shoulders, fingers folded behind my neck.
I put my hands behind her back. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she said back. “I’m really glad you came out with us.”
“Me too.” You know, if you took out all the awful shit and left only the me and Mickie stuff.
“I like you. Just in case it wasn’t, you know, obvious or whatever.”
My blood started singing, pushing past my worried nerves. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Like a lot.”
I smiled. It almost hurt. “Well I like you.”
“Yeah?” She turned her head, all teeth.
“Yeah. Like a lot.”
“Well that’s good,” Mickie said. “You should because I’m rad.”
“Yes, you are.”
“You’re rad, too,” she said.
“Hey, thanks.”
“No, I mean it. You’re so fucking rad it hurts me to look at you.”
I felt the secrets of our life together starting to unlock, unfolding toward forever.
4 | On Night Flights
With the wind on our faces, we rushed through the black air.
I saw the smiles of Danielle and Mickie and Wendy. I saw the pulse of life flowing within them, felt it within me. All our blood’s hot and moving, our breath fire in the throat.
Danielle’s place was best. There never seemed to be anyone there, and it’s huge. The lighting’s dim and crazy fucking atmospheric, almost as though it were designed just for the sorts of entanglements we got into there.
Lit by the boxed filament up and away, Danielle reclined with Wendy curling around her legs, pulling off her tall boots.
I watched from on high, up on the catwalk. Watched them watch me. Heard Mickie clicking up behind me, like a cat. Felt her fingers work my buckles and straps. Heard the clank of metal on the cold burnished floor ring out through lofted ceilings, the final notes muffled by leather. Felt Mickie’s breath hot on the back of my neck. Her fingertips on my stomach. I breathed out. My neck, warm and wet, I went up on my toes against the rail of the catwalk. My arms locked stiff.
Mickie’s long neck craned around the side of my face. Her mouth found mine. I tasted what she tasted and breathed what she breathed. Her teeth often fierce were tender then, striking mine but not hurting.
I looked down, saw Danielle bend back as Wendy ran her golden hair over her. Danielle closed her eyes, no longer seeing me, but I saw her still.
Mickie ran her hand from my stomach, around my ribs to my back, then dragged them down my spine. She pulled her head back. I felt her teeth and mouth against my scalp and hair. I felt her hand again, inside me, pressed down harder on the rail.
Our breath quickened. I felt the electricity in her nerves, felt it flowing into my own, surging, magnificent, and overwhelming. Mickie’s hips mirrored mine and rocked into me.
Her breath in my ear, loud, making hot moisture, worked into the bones inside.
“I want you,” she said.
“Yeah?”
“Yes. Right fucking now.”
My heart thumped in my ears, sending hot blood everywhere, swelling with joyous knowing.
I heard Danielle’s cries through the loft. Wendy laughed. I thought