#eliasstart

The night was cold, like a shock to his system, waking him up like a cold shower. Sleep had been impossible for the last week or so. It felt like every time Flynn blinked, the world shifted into something else. The explosion in Honey’s lab, Dimi’s return, Mary’s secret, Rocket with a gun on the coffee table. The news he had ignored for years suddenly crawling into the hollow of his bones.

Judgement Day. Flynn didn’t like the sound of it. Too many sins, too many failed attemps at redemption. Maybe it was just scare tactics. Maybe it didn’t matter anyway, if you were already sure which end of the scale you would tip. Saints shouldn’t be afraid, but neither should sinners. It’s everyone in-between, those that maybe still have a shot at turning the tide.

The waves had swallowed Flynn whole for years now. So maybe it wasn’t worth worrying about. Go big or go home. If you’re going to hell, at least make damn sure you get into the vip section.

Another gust of cold wind shook Flynn from his thoughts, remembering where he was. He was sitting on an empty swing in an abandoned playground, idly pushing his heels in the sand to swing back and forth. One hand was wrapped around the chains of the swing, the other holding a pen, a notebook filled with scribbles on his lap. He was trying to distract himself from these unnecessarily gloomy thoughts by continuing to write the book he’d been trying to get done for years now.

He heard the footsteps approach, but kept his eyes on his notebook.

Steve had just gotten home. His dog, a gold lab named Peggy met him at the door. He walked in, took of his pistol belt and tactical vest and hung these up on their respective hooks right inside his bedroom. Peggy followed him back out to the kitchen.

“How was your day, girl?” he scratched behind her ear and gave her a treat. He then walked over to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water and went into the living room. On his way there however, someone knocked on his door. This stopped him dead in his tracks.

“No one comes up here, wonder who that is, hmm?” he looked down at Peggy and then back to the door. On his way there he picked up his pistol from the desk. He walked up next to the door.

“Can I help you?” he shouted?

Radhya sighed internally, but quickened her own pace. She shrugged her bag more securely over her shoulder.  Her hand shot out at just the same time his did, her perfectly manicured fingers wrapping around his wrist.

“Oh, darling, why not keep those in your own pockets?” she smiled, sweet as honey. She ignored the other person who was about to be robbed turning to her. “That was awfully rude.” When he tried to pull back she held his gaze and his wrist with equal coldness strength, before planting her high heel on his chest and kicking him a few paces down the empty street. She inclined her head to the street. “Hurry along now, sweetheart.”

When he hesitated she shouldered her bag again, revealing in the process the subtle glint of a gun strapped to her waist. The man scurried off. Finally, she turned to other person, giving them a sheepish smile.