Bad news
Chapter 22
Judging by how they carried themselves, Kaito could tell immediately these two were bad news. One of them — jeans, leather boots — gave off pure biker-gang energy. The other, shaved head, crooked teeth, seemed a little too interested in him specifically.
"Say, buddy. What are you doing out here all alone? You know what's going on out there, right?" The skinny one — five-five, maybe, carrying a shotgun a little too big for his frame — stuttered through it, clearly enjoying the chance to play intimidator.
The bigger one just stood there, pistol trained on Kaito, scanning the surroundings without a word. Face tattoos visible from a distance, dressed in faded army-pattern pants and a tucked-in vest — everything about him said trained, not civilian.
Back inside the store, Brad and Sasha had already slipped through to the rear exit. All they'd needed was Kaito buying enough of a distraction to get to the vehicle parked behind the building.
"Hey, man, I don't want any trouble. I just got lost, you know?" Kaito said, letting his voice tremble, playing scared, hoping the act would buy him whatever leverage a coward's routine could still get him these days.
The world had turned into exactly what everyone always joked it would if things ever really fell apart — survival of the fittest, trust worth nothing unless you'd already earned it the hard way. Nothing stopped these two from just deciding to kill him right here. No laws left standing to answer for it. No one left to know either way.
"Don't worry, kid, it's all good. Name's Tony — this is my buddy Omar. We just kind of stumbled into the area. You know how it is. Food doesn't come easy these days, does it?" Tony said it smooth, confident, eyes flicking to Omar for half a second — a signal, clear as anything.
Kaito kept his face calm, even as something in his gut started screaming that this whole encounter was off. These two had appeared out of nowhere, and the very first thing they'd done was inspect the car he'd come in with — not any of the other vehicles scattered around the lot, several of which looked in just as good shape. And the guns. Where were two guys "just stumbling through" getting guns like that, this clean and this ready? The timing, the focus, all of it lined up too neatly to be coincidence.
He was about to say something when Omar's gun came up, level, aimed straight at him. Kaito dropped without thinking, hitting the ground as the first shots tore past where his head had just been.
That answered the question. No weapons of his own, nothing to do but run, ducking between parked cars while the two of them kept firing.
"You can run, but you can't hide, BOY!" Tony howled, already reloading the shotgun, grinning like this was the best entertainment he'd had in weeks.
Back near the rear lot, Sasha and Brad had made it out clean — until the gunfire started. It froze both of them for a second, hearts hammering, before the steady rhythm of continued shots told Brad exactly what was happening.
"Get in the car and hide. I'm going back for him," Brad said, already moving. Sasha, still shaken, didn't argue — just nodded and did as she was told.
"Come out, come out... don't be shy now," Tony called, rounding the corner into the parking lot, laughing to himself. A dead end. The only way out was straight through him and Omar, which meant the kid they'd been chasing for the last five minutes had to be hiding somewhere among the cars packed into the lot.
"Told you — you can run, but you can't hide. Why don't you make this easy on both of us?" Tony's patience was thinning with every second of silence that answered him.
He was on the verge of just spraying the lot blind when something better occurred to him — a car alarm went off two rows over, northwest of his position, and his whole face lit up like the universe had just done him a favor.
He motioned for Omar to hold position and crept toward the sound instead, narrowing down exactly where the kid had to be, adrenaline sharpening every step.
Kaito, out of room to keep moving, pressed himself flat to the pavement, heart slamming, watching Tony's boots pass just beneath the car beside him. He crawled from vehicle to vehicle, running lower on options every time — until he ran out completely, and Tony caught the edge of his foot poking out from underneath.
The shot came fast. It tore across his leg, close enough to nearly take it off entirely. No cars left. Nowhere left to go.
Tony saw it too, and started goading him harder, trying to bait him into panicking — into giving Tony the excuse to finish the job with something a little more dramatic than a clean shot.
That's when Brad finally caught up, the noise having led him straight there — but Omar was still on watch, which meant Brad had to improvise fast, with two lives on the line and nothing but instinct to work with. He ducked into the nearest building, a shoe store, scanning desperately for anything useful. Nothing but shelves of shoes — until he spotted a tin of gasoline tucked in a back corner. He grabbed it, silent, careful with every movement.
Omar wasn't fooled for long, though. Something about the quiet pulled his attention toward the shoe store, and he peeled off from his post to check it, leaving Tony alone on the other side of the lot.
Gun in his dominant hand, a short blade in the other, Omar moved in slow, sweeping every angle as he kicked the door open — only to find the place packed with corpses instead, flies droning over rotted flesh, the smell so thick it doubled him over coughing. Vision blurring, he staggered back outside for air.
The second he stepped through the doorway, the gasoline hit him — soaked, dripping, impossible to miss. He got one shot off on instinct, catching Brad in the shoulder, before the fire that had been trailing behind him closed the last few feet and caught.
Tony, mid-taunt, about to finally put Kaito down for good, froze at the sound of Omar screaming somewhere behind him — pure agony, nothing measured about it. He glanced back just long enough to see a burly figure clutching a bloody shoulder, cursing at the top of his lungs.
"Motherf—! I'm gonna kill you!" Tony roared, wheeling on Brad and opening fire, giving Kaito exactly the window he needed — not that running would have solved anything at this point. There was only one real option left.
While Tony emptied his rage into Brad's direction, Kaito slipped in low behind the cars, unseen. Just as Tony leveled his aim for the shot that would've finished Brad off, Kaito came up from behind and cracked a glass bottle across the back of his skull.
Tony dropped. Before he could shake it off, Kaito was already on him, arm locked around his throat, holding on through every desperate twist and thrash until the struggling finally stopped for good.
Tony was dead.
Kaito stood, picked up the fallen shotgun and the ammo vest still strapped to the body, and turned to go help Brad.
