Author: The Undecisive Thinker PM
If you want to become a full-blooded vampire, you have to break a few necks. Literally. Oh, and ninety percent of the people you love are going to die, so it's best to not get too attached to anyone before the vamps send you off to the training grounds. Also, the vamps, they don't like when you poke your nose where it doesn't belong. Trust me. I know what I'm talking about.Rated: Fiction T - English - Supernatural/Romance - Chapters: 22 - Words: 110,699 - Reviews: 34 - Favs: 10 - Follows: 15 - Updated: 01-28-13 - Published: 08-06-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3048261
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Chapter 21: Hello, New York
Three days later, we were in Chicago. The train ride had been long, uneventful, and, admittedly, lonely. Bunny had been there, yes, but she wasn't the one I was missing. I kept telling myself that, technically, I had no right to miss Xavier because I was the one who'd pushed him away, but still. I missed him. It didn't help that he was always there, either. So close, yet, unreachable.
In Chicago, we had to switch trains at the station there. Our next train didn't come for another half hour, and it was during that hour that I pushed down my ego and sat down beside Xavier. He looked at me, then promptly looked away. I sighed. "Xavier—,"
He whirled around in his seat to face me, grabbed my face, kissed me until I was breathless, then stood up. "I don't feel like talking to you."
He left me sitting there, dazed, dizzy, and completely confused. I sat for a few more minutes, trying to right my thoughts, before I went in search of Bunny. I found her in a souvenir shop, looking at key chains and snow globes. She smiled up at me, then picked up a snow globe and shook it. She was such a child sometimes.
"What's wrong?" She asked, moving on to the stuffed animals. I shrugged.
"Oh, please," she insisted. "You have that look on your face. Somethings up. Is it you-know-who?"
"I don't want to talk about it," I growled. She shrugged, and continued looking through the various knick-knacks.
"Besides," I mumbled. "He won't even talk to me. He just...kisses me then walks away. How am I supposed to have a conversation with him? He's impossible! Like, what the hell was he expecting, anyways?"
"Well, most people don't freak out when their boyfriend says that he loves them. Some might even be happy."
"It's too soon."
"It's been, like, what, three months?"
"Exactly!" I exclaimed as she picked up a stuffed eagle. "Far too soon."
She rolled her eyes at me. "Romeo and Juliet fell in love instantly."
I rolled my eyes at the mention of that blasted play. It was centuries old, and written by some odd English poet. It was also quite dumb, and quite unrealistic. I mean, really, who fell in love in an instant? And Juliet was only thirteen or fourteen! That was just wrong.
"Yes, and guess what? They died."
Bunny hugged the eagle to her chest. "You're so unromantic."
"Yes, I am," I nodded. "Romance is overrated."
I bought her the stupid eagle, then we left the shop to catch our next train. Once we were on that, I contemplated between confronting Xavier again…or confronting Patch. Patch seemed like a better option, mainly because he wouldn't simply kiss me, then storm off. Or, if he did, I'd just punch him and life would be alright.
I found Patch in the little dining room, sipping a mug of what looked like hot blood. I tapped his shoulder, and motioned with my head for him to follow me. To my immense surprise, he did. Right into the little compartment that was assigned to us. I closed the door behind him, locked it, then closed the curtain over the small window. When I turned back to Patch, he was smirking.
"What?" I demanded, reaching over to my bag. He scoffed, and approached me.
"Come on. It's obvious why you wanted me here. Alone."
He pressed himself against me. I wrapped my hand around the cool handle of my gun, whipped it out, and pressed the barrel to the underside of his chin.
"Oh," I whispered. "So you knew that I wanted to blast your brains out?"
He swallowed visibly, and didn't move. "Jones—,"
"Shut up," I said sweetly. "And sit down. If you try anything funny, I'll shoot you. Don't think I won't."
He sat down, sensing that I wasn't playing around. I kept the gun aimed in his direction.
"I heard you on the phone. You've been lying this entire time."
"It's not what you think—,"
I cocked the gun. "Don't. Lie. To. Me."
"I'm so not in the mood right now!" I shouted, making him jump. "Because, trust me, there's nothing I wouldn't love more than putting a bullet between your eyes. So start talking. And don't bullshit me."
I sat down on the bed across from him. He watched me for a few moments, his eyes wide as he, presumably, tried to make himself appear more innocent. It didn't work. I knew him well enough to know that he was incapable of any sort of innocence. After a moment, he dropped the act, and rolled his eyes.
"Well, I certainly didn't want to die. Did you guys even consider how much shit I would be in after you did your little escape?"
"No. To be honest, you never crossed any of our minds."
"Yeah, clearly. Thanks to you guys, my ass was on the chopping block. So, that blonde bimbo—what was her name? Charlotte? Candice?"
"Clarice," I replied, remembering the woman who'd interrogated me.
"Whatever. She made me a deal. Follow you guys to New York, and to that Flannigan's house, then call them in so they could bust the whole operation he's got going on."
"So, you were just going to turn us in?" I demanded. "After we—,"
"After you what?" He snarled. "Helped me? Let me stay with you? Before you, Indigo Jones, my life was simple. I had a job. I had a life. Now, what do I have? Nothing? So, please, forgive me if I don't exactly feel grateful towards you and your pathetic boyfriend and that stupid blond bitch—,"
I stood up, drew my hand back, and struck him across the face. Then I pressed the gun against his forehead.
"Give me one good reason," I hissed, bending over until we were nose to nose. "One good reason as to why I shouldn't just kill you now."
"Because if you kill me, you die," he said simply. I blinked.
"There's a tracking device in my phone. I'm supposed to activate it when we reach Flannigan's, and they'll come find you guys. But there's something in my blood. They injected me with these miniscule explosives, which went through my bloodstream and attached themselves to my heart. If my heart stops, they go off. You kill me, and you die as well."
There was silence for a few moments. Then, I couldn't help it. I laughed. I laughed until tears ran out of my eyes.
"You expect me to believe," I chortled. "That if I kill you, you'll explode? God, where'd you come up with that one?"
"It's the truth," he said simply. "Go ahead, and kill me, if you don't believe me."
I was tempted to, but, explosives or not, maybe Patch could still be useful.
"Alright, here's what's going to happen," I said slowly. "I'm going to tell the others what a deceiving little bitch you are, then, once we get to New York, you're going to call Clarice or whoever you're talking to, and you're going to tell them that you lost us. Make something up. You're going to do this, because I'm going to sit beside you, with this—,"
I wiggled the gun. "And, trust me, I'll kill you if you screw up. Got it?"
He set his jaw, and glared up at me. "That'll be like signing my own death warrant."
I shook my head, and rolled my eyes. "Why would you think I care? So, Patch, do we have a deal?"
I pushed the gun harder onto his head. "Or don't we?"
There was silence, then, finally, he nodded. I lowered the gun, and patted his head. "Good boy. Now, you just sit tight, and I'll get the others, yes?"
He was not happy. Not happy at all. After forcing him to hand over his cell phone, I left the compartment and hunted down Bunny and Xavier. I found Xavier first, sitting by himself in the lounge. He looked up when I approached him, and raised an eyebrow.
"I'm still mad at you—,"
"There's something important you need to hear."
"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow. "An apology?"
I huffed out a breath. He was being irritating and difficult, and maybe I'd earned it, but still. It was annoying. I decided to give him a taste of his own medicine, and bent down. I then proceeded to grab his chin, tilt his head up, and kiss him. He offered no resistance, and parted his lips under mine. I pulled away before I lost myself in his kiss.
"No, actually," I said smoothly. "But there's something you need to know. Go to our room. I'll meet you there once I find Bunny."
I turned and walked away. When I looked back at him, briefly, over my shoulder, he was watching me go. I smiled at him, waved, and continued walking. I found Bunny outside. There was this little section at the back of the train that was outside. There was a bar in between the person, and the actual outside. I was still a bit paranoid that Bunny would somehow fall onto the tracks, though. I was always worried about her.
"Hey," I said softly. She looked at me, and smiled.
"There's something I have to tell you. Let's go to our room."
"Sure," she said, surprised. "Is something the matter?"
"I guess you could say that," I murmured. "Just come. I'll explain everything to you."
When we got to our room, I did. No one was too happy, let me tell you that.
"If we can't kill him because he's apparently explosive," Xavier complained. "Can't we just throw him off the train?"
"We could," I said. "But I want him to get the feds off our trail."
"He has a name," Patch supplied from the bunk. Bunny glared at him—inasmuch as Bunny ever glared at anyone.
"Shut up," she growled. He looked skywards, but shut up.
"We should at least keep him on lockdown," Xavier said. I nodded.
"We can take turns watching him," Bunny supplied. "During the day, too. We only have one more night on the train."
"That's what I was thinking," I admitted. "We can take turns. I can go first, and once it's daytime, I'll switch with one of you and get some sleep."
"I still think we should just kill him," Xavier muttered. "I mean, I get that he may or may not be explosive, but do you really want to keep him around?"
"No," I answered. "I haven't wanted him around since he showed up here, but we're stuck with him now."
"Oh, I can really feel the love," Patch quipped. Xavier sent him such a hostile glare that he quieted. When Xavier wanted to, he could really pull out a fantastic glare.
"Besides," I said. "He can still be useful."
"Don't worry, Xavier," Bunny said soothingly. "It'll be fine. We'll keep an eye on him."
He huffed out a breath, but seemed to soften when Bunny smiled at him. She tended to have that effect on people.
"Fine," he relented. "But I'm taking the first watch."
"Fine with me," I murmured. I was hungry, anyways. Not for blood, but for food. It was a little after midnight, and lunch was ready in the dining room. I'd smelt steak. I loved steak.
"Here," I said, pressing the gun into Xavier's hand. "Just in case."
"Are you guys always so dramatic?" Patch got out, before Xavier drew his fast back and punched him right in the nose. Patch swore loudly, and toppled back onto the bed. It was actually pretty funny, and I had to grin.
"I think I'll be fine," Xavier said. Still smiling, I left the compartment, with Bunny trailing after me. We went to the dining room together, and, like I'd thought, there was steak, soup, and salads. I was ravenous, and cleared off my plate, as well as most of Bunny's. She'd never been a big eater. She still wouldn't touch any blood, though, and that was…well…not normal. Dhampirs and vampires didn't drink blood simply because we liked it. We needed it to survive. I hadn't paid that much attention in biology, but the gist of it was that we didn't produce our own blood cells, so we had to take blood from sources that did. Like humans.
"What's wrong, Bunny?" I demanded. "Why won't you drink blood?"
She shrugged, and started tearing her paper napkin to bits. "I don't know. I just don't want it. I feel fine without it."
"How can you?" I demanded, lowering my voice. "You're a dhampir. You have to want it. I don't even understand how you aren't dead, to be honest."
"Neither do I," she sighed. "Whenever I drink it, it makes me throw up. Maybe something's wrong with me—,"
"There's nothing wrong with you," I growled, cutting her off. "You're fine. Perfectly fine."
"Not admitting it won't make the problem go away."
I leaned back, crossed my arms over my chest, and scowled. "Maybe not, but you know what would make it go away? If you stopped acting silly, drank you damn blood, and acted normal."
"Right," she said slowly, leaning back and crossing her arms like I had. "Because you're so normal, huh?"
"Yes, I am."
She looked at me for a minute, then tilted her head back and laughed. I couldn't help but feel a bit insulted. "Stop that! How am I not normal?"
Still laughing, she leaned forwards again, and wiped at her eyes. "Indigo. Oh, Indigo. I'm not even going to bother explaining. But, trust me, you aren't exactly "normal". I think the only normal one out of us is Xavier."
"You just like him better," I mumbled. It was impossible to have a serious conversation with either Bunny or Xavier. Xavier would just kiss me, then walk away, and Bunny would just make a joke out of everything. Why couldn't we just sit down, and talk?
"If it makes you feel better," she continued, acting as if she hadn't heard me. "I have no doubt whatsoever that you will eventually drive him insane."
She paused, then returned to tearing apart the napkin. "In fact, I'm sure of it."
When the sun came up, Xavier and Bunny went to bed, and I sat up, watching Patch. It got pretty boring once he fell asleep as well, but I wouldn't put it past him to sneak out on us. In fact, just for something to do, I pretended to fall asleep. It only took ten or so minutes, before I heard him moving, and when I peeked out from between my closed eyelids, I saw him standing up. That was when I cleared my throat, and cocked the gun.
"Sit," I ordered. "It's not like you have anywhere to go, anyways. It's the middle of the day. But, hey, you want to burn to a crisp, be my guest."
He shot me a glare, but sat back down, and was shortly asleep again. Satisfied, I shifted into a more comfortable position, and did absolutely nothing. Once six or seven hours had passed, and the sun was just starting to set, I woke up Bunny. I could barely keep my eyes open and, while I would have preferred to not hand her a gun, I had to sleep.
I woke her up, and motioned for her to resume my place on the cot across from Patch. "I know you can handle one of these," I said, handing her the firearm. "Just don't…kill yourself, alright?"
"Oh, ye of little faith," she murmured, before crawling down from her bed, which was the bunk above Patch. I crawled onto it once she was off, yawned widely, and buried my face in the pillow. It smelt like Bunny. Sweet and familiar. I fell asleep to the scent of her wrapped around my head.
I didn't wake up until the train stopped. On our way off, we formed a sort of barrier between Patch, and his freedom. I didn't think he would make it run for it, though, regardless of whether or not we were surrounding him.
"Have a good evening," the stewardess said, like she actually cared, as we all waltzed off the train, and into the station. Truthfully, she didn't give a damn. She was just paid to do a job, and could care less if I actually had a good evening or not.
Xavier wanted to stop for food—again—but I insisted on going outside. He'd eaten a few hours ago, so he couldn't be that hungry yet, and I was tired of being cooped up inside. I craved fresh air. After a bit of bickering, I was deemed victorious, and we left the station.
I'd been expecting something similar to Vancouver. Mildly busy streets with people milling around, and tall buildings. I'd been excited at the prospect of finding a nice patch of grass beneath a willow tree, or something. However, my expectations proved to be false because there was nothing mild about New York.
The buildings were so tall that just looking up at them made me dizzy, and there were hundreds of people just going about their business. Literally hundreds, and ninety percent of them were yelling into their phones, or yelling at their phones, or yelling at each other, or yelling at the car that almost hit them because they darted across the road. Needless to say, it was loud. Painfully so. The lights were also painful. Everything was lit up. The streets, the buildings, the neon sign above a sketchy looking apartment advertising "Cheap room for rent. Thirty dollars a night".
Then, there was the traffic. Dear god, the traffic. I'd never seen so many cars packed into one space. It was barely moving, at all, but people were swearing and honking their horns, as if sticking their hand out the window to flip someone off was going to make the traffic suddenly speed up.
I felt someone shove me, then.
"Move, would you?" An angry man in a suit said as he pushed me aside.
"Hey, how about some patience, asshole?!" I yelled at his retreating figure. He raised his arm, and flipped me off, before melting into the crowd.
"Wow," Xavier said in an irritating dry voice. "You fit right in here, don't you?"
I made a face at him, to which he rolled his eyes. We were still not on the best terms. I'd offended him more than I'd thought I would by denying his supposed love for me.
"You do realize that we're just standing on the sidewalk, like a bunch of lost tourists, right?" Bunny asked from somewhere around my elbow.
"Yeah," I said, as a lady in baggy clothes waltzed by me. She was pushing a shopping cart filled with plastic bags. I was pretty sure that one of them meowed. "Let's go somewhere more private."
We managed to find a deserted alley. It smelt like cat pee and vomit and a bunch of other disgusting things. I pulled Patch's cell phone out of my bag, and handed it to him. He'd been silent since we'd gotten off the train.
"Here," I ordered. "Call Clarice. Tell her you lost us. Don't pull anything funny or—,"
"I know," he said warily. "Or you'll shoot me. I get it. Just give me the damn phone."
He snatched it out of my hands, and started dialing. He held it up to his ear, and stared at the brick wall across from us.
Are you there? I heard someone—Clarice—ask from the other end of the phone. Patch sighed.
"I lost them."
There was a pregnant pause. Then—outrage. Clarice was hysterical. Screaming and threatening and yelling like a madwoman. I almost felt bad for Patch. Almost.
Then, suddenly, Clarice regained her cool. I could hear her taking a deep breath.
Well, since you've proved to be utterly useless and incompetent, I guess I'll just have to kill you as well. If it's not too much trouble, could you consider turning yourself in? My team and I are tired of searching, and would prefer to kill you quickly.
"Yeah, not going to happen," Patch said. "See you."
He hung up then, and tried to hand the phone back to me. I shook my head.
"You said there's a tracker on it. Smash it on the ground. Then leave. Leave, and hope that you never see us again."
He did as I said, and destroyed the phone. Then, still facing us, he backed away down the alley, fading into the shadows.
"I guess this is goodbye," he called to us. "I would say that it's been nice knowing you but, really, it hasn't."
He turned, and swiftly left. Xavier cleared his throat, and shoved his hands into his pockets.
"Why do I feel like this isn't the last time we'll see him?" He murmured. I shrugged, but Bunny was the one who spoke up.
"Because it probably won't be," she said solemnly. "Life just has a way of coming back around to bite you in the butt."
I let out a long breath. "Amen to that."
Then, I looked at the destroyed phone on the ground, and sighed again. "Come on. Let's go find a phone so I can call this guy."
We ended up in a small, nondescript coffee shop. The owners ever so graciously let us use their phone—after we bought coffee and pastries, of course. I left Bunny and Xavier at one of the small, round tables, and took the phone with me to the bathroom. I figured that no one would be listening in if I were in the bathroom, but just to be safe, I turned the tap on. Yes, I was a bit paranoid but, after everything, I had the right to be.
I rifled through my bag, looking for the crumpled up paper that held the number. When I finally found it, I held the thing up to my face, and just stared at it for a second or so. Then I began to dial, and a voice immediately picked up. I recognized the voice as the man I'd talked to at the training grounds. Before I'd been arrested.
I swallowed. My throat was dry. "Are you Flannigan?"
"That depends on whether or not you're Indigo Jones."
"Then I'm Flannigan. You must be in New York. Honestly, I thought you were dead. It took you an awfully long time to get here."
My temper flared. "I've spent the last two weeks hiding in sketchy motel rooms, drinking blood on tap, and trying not to die. Sorry if I couldn't just hop on a plane and fly here. I wasn't even in the same country when we first talked. A little recognition would be nice!"
Because I'd started ranting, I just couldn't stop. "You know, I don't even know what this is about. I've given up my chance at having a normal life—and I don't even know why. Did you or Star ever think to cluing me in about whatever the hell this is, before tossing my friends and I to the sharks?"
"Well, I suppose Star did," he replied mildly. "But then she, you know, killed herself."
"I was there!" I hissed. "I know that she killed herself!"
"Then why are you angry? Surely you must understand that we haven't exactly had the time for a nice, lengthy chat."
"I'm angry," I seethed. "Because this whole thing is just...it's just..."
Unfair. I wanted to say unfair. But, if I had, I would have felt like a five year old. So, I bit down my words and pinched the bridge of my nose.
"Just tell me," I breathed out. "What to do next. Where to go."
"Where are you now?" He asked, all serious and whatnot.
"I don't know. A coffee shop somewhere. This city is impossible to navigate."
I paused, and dug up the memory of the street post I'd observed on the way to the café. "We're somewhere on eight. I think."
"Go to a pub called Danny's Ocean. It's what, nine p.m now? At ten, there will be a man there to pick you up. He'll take you to my residence. Good luck."
The phone went silent. He'd hung up on me. Apparently, he was developing a habit of telling me "good luck" before disconnecting.
I turned off the water, left the bathroom, and gave the phone back to the owners of the café. Xavier and Bunny looked up at me expectantly when I sat down at the table with them. In between taking sips of my blood and hot chocolate drink, I informed them of what had happened.
We decided on taking a taxi to the pub, mainly because we had an hour to kill, and because no one particularly wanted to use the tunnels. I was squished in-between Bunny and Xavier in the backseat of the cab, which wasn't a very comfortable place to be.
"Do you ever wonder what would happen if we just left?" Xavier mumbled into my ear, his voice low enough that even the vampire cab driver with super-hearing couldn't make out Xavier's words. "If we just went to...Europe or something. Took up false names. Started a new life."
I waited a moment before answering. "I don't think that would work."
When he responded, he sounded a bit...hopeless. "Why not?"
"It's like Bunny said," I murmured. "Life has a way of coming back around and biting you in the ass. Sooner or later, they would find us. Besides," I added, because he really looked far too upset, and I hadn't seen him smile in what felt like eons. "Isn't this exciting?"
He didn't smile, or even smirk. He just looked tired. Dead. In an attempt to comfort him, I reached for his hand.
And he moved it away.
I slowly returned my hands to my lap, and stared solemnly straight ahead.
And I tried very hard not to cry.
We reached the pub at nine fifteen. By that time, I was no longer upset. I mean, I was, but I'd transformed the hurt into anger. The pub was pretty empty when we got in—after all, people were just waking up—but there were a few die hard alcoholics here and there. I slammed myself down onto one of the stools at the bar, and glared up at the bar tender when he looked over at me.
"Got a problem, kid?" He asked as he wiped down some glasses. I saw Bunny settle onto another stool beside me, and Xavier, onto one beside her.
"No," I said shortly. "Just pretend we aren't here."
He shrugged, and went about his business. Two minutes later, the empty seat to my right became occupied by a vampire that simply reeked of alcohol. He couldn't have been much older than twenty.
"'Nother one, Ernie," he slurred. Ernie looked mildly disapproving, but poured the man a double shot of straight up vodka. The man downed it like a pro, and motioned for Ernie to re-fill his glass. Before he drank that one, he turned to look at me and smiled a wobbly smile.
"Hey, pretty lady."
I rolled my eyes at him, and spun around, to face Bunny instead of him. That was when somebody walked through the pub door. I recognized her. I reckon I would have recognized her anywhere. She smiled at me, and didn't even hesitate in pulling out her gun. But I was prepared and, by the time she'd aimed and shot, I'd tackled Bunny to the floor. The bullet that was meant for me hit the vampire who'd been behind me. She shot again, at Xavier, but he leapt over the counter. I ushered Bunny and myself behind a booth, and felt a bullet graze my ribcage. It stung like a bitch.
"Children, please," Clarice said, a smile in her disgustingly sweet voice. I pulled my own gun out of my bag. I only had four shots left. "I'm tired. Can we just get this over with—,"
I whipped the gun in her direction, darted out from underneath the booth, and shot. It connected with her right shoulder. Another shot ran out, and I realized that she had back up with her. Damn it.
She screamed, and clutched her stomach. As she fell, three policemen walked in after her. Two headed for where Xavier was crouched behind the bar counter, and the other made way for Bunny and I. I leapt out. He shot at me. I didn't waste another bullet by shooting at him and grabbed the nearest thing to aim at his head. That happened to be a table. He dodged it, so I grabbed a chair and whipped that at him next. A few metres away, Xavier was in over his head, trying to dodge bullets and two large vampires. I did something that you really aren't supposed to do. I threw the gun at him.
Mercifully, he caught it.
My distraction provided the cop with an opening to tackle me down. We crashed through a different booth. Wood shards went flying. The cop pressed his gun to the underside of my chin, and smirked.
"Not so tough now, are you, girl?"
He stiffened, suddenly, and collapsed onto me. Blood trickled down from his head to mine. I shoved him off me, and looked around. I'd thought that Xavier had shot him, but Xavier was currently warding off the two cops with a chair leg. Then, I saw Ernie, standing by the back door, holding a gun.
What the hell?
"You're Indigo Jones?" Ernie demanded. I got to my feet, and felt another bullet graze my thigh. We were being shot out from outside.
"Yes," I ground out. Then, I ran across the room, jumped onto the backs of one of the officers, and quickly broke his neck. Xavier grabbed a bottle of some sort of liquor, and smashed it over the remained officer's head. It was a large, heavy, thick-glassed bottle, and the man instantly went down. The bottle cracked, and alcohol went flying everywhere. Another bullet nicked me—on my arm this time, and I joined Xavier behind the bar. Ernie was there as well.
"Who the hell are you?" I demanded, pressing against my aching side. Ernie pulled open a drawer, and reloaded his gun.
"The man trying to keep you alive. Doctor's orders."
He stood up, fired two shots, and ducked back down.
"Flannigan?" I hissed. Ernie nodded.
"We need to get out of here," he said. "Your ride can't get you here. We have a backup spot, but we'll have to go out the back."
"This is the police," a voice on a speaker rang out. The bullets, thankfully, stopped, and I rolled over the bar to crawl back to Bunny. "Come out with your hands up where we can see them."
So they could just shoot us? No, thanks.
"We're getting out of here. We have to be fast. Don't stop moving, alright?" I whispered. She was wide eyed, and looked terrified out of her mind, but she nodded determinedly.
I was about to raise my head, and ask Ernie if he was ready, but then some idiot cop threw a flare, or some sort of fiery device into the bar. The alcohol on the floor caught fire, then the wooden bar caught fire, and, within seconds, everything went up in flames.
I grabbed Bunny's hand, and motioned for her to crawl with me across the floor. The smoke was already so thick that I could barely see through it. I stuck Bunny by the back door, with instructions to wait for me. I went back for Xavier and Ernie, but something came crashing down onto my back, hard. I grunted, and went flat onto the floor.
"Told you we'd meet again, didn't I, Jones?"
Alright, so I decided that I didn't much like the ending and I am changing it. So I suggest you read over this chapter, and the ones that I'm going to post afterwards because I'll be removing the ones that are currently up.