#willis ridley

The car kept an even pace, roaring steadily as they drove down the road.

Perfect speed limit, no above, no below.

Felix and Willis had both made Daryl, they couldn’t risk any suspicion.

One regular scan-over and their names would show up not only as “mutants”, but on the most wanted list.

Felix would rather not be burned alive.

And so, they drove safely and quietly through the night.

Something fell onto the car floor in the seat next to Felix, and Willis jumped from the seat in front of it. Quickly he regained himself, face flustered and now looking away from the both of them.

A quiet chuckle came from the third person in the car as Felix reached over, picking up the mask.

It wasn’t his, no he had everything of his safely in his suitcase under his seat.

It was Daryl’s, even in the dark he could tell that.

The long, wide skull had been what he based his own off of, though making his look less-…real.

His own wasn’t bone white, with the anatomy stretched out to fit a human head and with the teeth still intact, looking ready to leap up and bite. And it was cold, the type of Felix could feel seeping into his hands as he held the mask. The type of cold that for once made the constant burning and itching under his fingertips a small good thing, and not a large curse.

If Felix didn’t know Daryl better he’d assume it at least had been a real skull, one stretched and warped to fit on his head.

“…how soon will we be there,” Willis broke the silence, still staring out the window and into the quieting down city.

“Soon.”

4:30 A.M, one of the times he had been playing through his head since they had gotten the mission. 4:30 A.M they would get there, as the three other groups did the same. 4:45 A.M they would activate the chips in their wrists, switching them into their “mission outfits” and pulling on their masks. 5:00 A.M each bombs would start to go off in minute intervals.

And then the airport would be leveled. And then hopefully, the knot of dread in Felix’s stomach would disappear.

“…why?” Willis spoke quietly, barely mouthing the words and hoping no one else heard. But both of them did.

“Why?” Daryl’s response was tinted with a quiet annoyance, before it disappeared and was replaced with his normal, casual, laidback form of speaking.

“-it’s a mission, from the top guys-“

“But, but- why?” Willis didn’t look at either of them. Felix could barely make out his face in the windows reflection. The only thing clear, were the bright green eyes under his glasses. “Why the airport, why that plane, why-“

“They’re smuggling mutants through, to throw into the Mutant Sectors and to just forget about until the turn fifteen,”

“-do you really want to not do anything?”

“But people will die, the airport’s not gonna be empty, is it?”

“And so will they if we don’t do anything either.”

Felix, per usual, stayed quiet. His own reservations tucked away and hidden with his fire. Nothing was wrong, the people he could already see walking through the airport, coffee cups in hand, other hands interlocked with their partners, children happy for their vacation, tired parents welcoming kids home- all of them would do the same to him, to Willis, and to Daryl.