To Be Obscure

| CH. 19

I jumped to a stand, ready to hop the counter with my right hand. My left grabbed the fork in a tight grip. Yet, the second my feet left the ground, I felt the rush of air that belonged to the speed of man like myself; a speed I'd only ever seen through my reflections in water and mirrors. It whipped and turned around the counter I'd balanced myself on top of, and with a kick, my hand was pushed from under me. I landed on my head with a loud crack, one that quickly changed from a small ache into a searing pain that broke through every corner of my head.

"Fuck," I groaned as I rolled onto my knees and stood. I called out again with closed eyes, "Nathan!"

"Watch out!" Star yelled, and I looked up towards her voice. She stood at the far end of the kitchen, around a corner I couldn't see very well. I saw her blonde hair and red lips; her white shirt was stained with blood around her sleeves. In her arms, she held Nathan against her chest. The bandage on his injured hand was stained freshly red, and his eyebrow was cut open, allowing blood to drip freely down his face. He looked at me with the same wide eyes that she had, only hers were the brightest of green—like emeralds in water. They illuminated the space around her.

My fingers flinched, and I dropped that fork.

Her eyes were glowing.

Fucking glowing.

"Lamont!" she cried out again, and I finally turned towards the air that knocked me off my feet.

I saw a fist before it landed and ducked under the swinging blow. With my shoulders, I pushed into the waist of the man in front of me. His back slammed against the large trays that housed uncooked doughnuts and cakes. In the sound of clattering metal, I heard him grunt and yell, "Piece of shit!"

"Piece of shit?" I grumbled through the pain in my head. I knocked him onto the floor. "Who are you calling a piece of shit?"

Ron's glowing, yellow eyes peered up at me as he grinned maliciously. His tongue trailed over his top teeth and onto his bottom lip where he bled. He licked the wound slow, almost enjoying the taste. "I did," he laughed as he pushed himself up with just his hands. "All of you old motherfuckers' are no match for me."

I stepped back, my foot hitting a pan. I looked at Ron, who stood in front of me drenched in sweat. He smelled like he'd been running for miles; the wet stains around his neck and pits only solidified the idea of the fact—only, that wasn't the truth.

The truth was, he was just like me. I could see it in his eyes, as their bright yellow scanned over my body and face. Fact—the speed he conjured up with his legs was new to him. The virus in his body could not keep up. I knew this, because I'd experienced the same reaction at one point in my life—even if I couldn't remember it.

His virus still needed time to adjust to his body. Even as he grinned at me and wiped the sweat from his face, I heard his muscles ache. "Who are you?" I asked, taking another step back, increasing the space between us.

Ron slid shaky fingers through his wet curls as his eyes darted from mine and over to where Star and Nathan stood. "I know you're immortal and shit, but don't tell me you've got Alzheimer's, old man. It's me, Ronny, your pal."

I closed my eyes and took in another breath, one that eased the pain in my head. When I opened them, he had inched closer, and laughed. "No," I shook my head, "I want to know who you are."

"Fucking shit, man." Ron's head fell back as he laughed up at the ceiling. "He's blind, too. He doesn't know it's me."

"Ronny, stop it," Star pleaded from the corner, "let's just give up."

"Give up." Ron shot her a hard look. "What the fuck for? I've got him, right here! You just hold him still while I do what I was ordered to do."

"You'll let him go, and I promise to kill you quickly," I said, my voice low. Just like his eyes, mine glowed bright, too.

Ron found it amazing and covered his mouth to hide his laugh. "Oh, shit, his are dope as fuck!" he said as he leaned back. "Too bad you won't kill me. I can't kill you, either, but I can hurt you. All I have to do is bring you back alive."

He jumped forward, legs up to his chest. I caught them before he kicked me and pushed him down onto the ground. Like broken reflections of each other, we threw alternating blows; I punched his ribs as he hit my face. He wasn't as fast as me, nor as strong, but it was enough to send my head reeling as I crashed back into the wall.

Yelling in anger, both of my hands reached for his neck. His reached for my eyes. His fingers pushed as mine squeezed. I heard him choke, just over the sound of slamming drums that echoed in my head. My face was riddled in pain, and I kicked at his knees to drop him, but he wouldn't fall.

He pushed harder, and in the black of my eyelids, I saw white. I let go, pushing him away with all the strength I had left. I heard both Star and Nathan yell my name. "Lamont!"

This wouldn't be easy, I knew it as I rubbed blood from my eyes, but when I opened them, I knew I hadn't lost. Not yet.

Staring at Ron's red face and blackened neck, his veins turned a deep purple. I'd pinched several nerves, and the sound of his ragged breaths only meant he was wallowing in increasing pain.

"Star," I groaned as I stepped forward, just as he did, "let Nathan go."

"She won't," Ron's laugh was hoarse, and his words barely audible. Blood trickled down from his lips. "Abby will kill her if she does."

Abby.

The sound of her name brought an echoing voice into the back of my mind. One that whispered lovingly; I felt fingers on my back. "John, dear, won't you stop?"

"No," I hissed, practically answering the voice. "No."

"Oh, yes," Ron sputtered as he rushed forward, his hands pushing just beneath my ribs. I screamed as I felt the tips of his fingers break through my skin. My hands grabbed at his curls and I pulled his head as far back as I could, but he was strong. He fought my attacks, defending the way I turned his body.

I couldn't break him. I couldn't snap him in two. Instead, he did to me what I'd done to countless men in my past. He cornered me, pinned me against a wall; he trapped my legs with his and pushed his hands further. Agony gripped my heart, and I screamed louder than I'd ever heard.

And that voice, that loving voice, "John, dear."

"Stop!" Star screamed, her voice strangled by tears. She screamed again, only this time, I couldn't hear it. I heard a bang, instead—a gunshot. One that sent a blinding white light around us.

I squeezed my eyes shut, expecting the bullet to hit me.

Yet, it didn't.

Ron's hands slid down my legs and his body slumped down to my feet. When I opened my eyes and looked at the curtain, I saw Rosie. In her trembling hands was a handgun, one that leaked smoke from its barrel. Nathan managed to break out of Star's grip and rushed to her, pulling the gun from her hands.

I kept my weight against the wall. "Rosie," I breathed, swallowing the blood that crept into my mouth, "you have a gun?"

Rosie flopped against the wall as she struggled to stand. She stared down at Ron's limp body, and up at Star's crying face. "I thought they looked familiar," she whispered as she covered her mouth. "Abby's here."