Wasp

Chapter 18: Lonesome town

This chapter is inspired by 'Ricky Nelson's, Lonesome Town'

"Shit shit shit COME ON!" James banged his gun against the wall in an attempt to fix it. He sheilded Ryan behind the broken wall they were hiding behind. The lazers zipped past them leaving scorch marks in the back wall. The attackers were killers, their metallic voices called out for the couple hiding behind the wall.

Ryan began to grow pale, the life slowly fading out of his cheeks. "Just hang in there ok, we'll get out of this, we always do" James said in a comforting voice. While taking a singular grenade out of his pocket, he was saving it for a life or death situation but in a way this was. He unclipped the pin and threw it with all his might at the attackers. "ERROR SYSTEM FAILURE" then an explosion and then, after what felt like hours of fighting. Silence.

James looked down at Ryan who was resting in his arms. James quickly took off his shirt and wrapped it around Ryan's stomach where he'd been shot. Wasp ran, they fucking ran, the coward. But he couldn't think about that now, Ryan had to get through this he couldn't die now, not here not now, not ever.

Ryan smiled up at James' ocean blue eyes as if to say it was ok and that it was all going to be fine as the blood stained the floor of the old house. "Don't fucking die on me." James said through gritted teeth with tears streaming down his face. Then Ryan spoke, his voice was quiet and weak without his usual charisma. "When you get to Ireland," he coughed and a dribble of blood came out his mouth, his lung was hit,"Tell Kayla I love her, she looks like me, but younger...a-and more alive" he laughed slightly then winced in pain.

James let out a pained smile, "You can tell her that yourself, you're going to make it through this I'm not-" James felt a soft hand go over his mouth, telling him to shush. "We both know, only one of us will make it out of this alive, it's not going to be me, but you've, y-ou've gotta promise me this. Keep living, get to Ireland and whatever you do don't get yourself killed" Ryan smiled up at him, struggling to even keep his eyes open, "Oh and give her this" Ryan gently pulled a small box out of his breast pocket, with shakey blood soaked hands he gave it to James.

Ryan's eyes rolled up to the sky and every muscle in his body relaxed. He was dead. James looked at him, another body in his arms. He picked up the limp corpse of Ryan and carried it over to the sea, he found a large plank and lifted the body onto it then fastened it with twine. He lay his own blood soaked shirt over Ryan's face and half of his body. Finally he doused the body in whiskey and slowly pushed the raft out to sea.

He flicked the lighter up and threw it onto the corpse which, combined with the whiskey, immediately went up in flames. James watched his friend...his lovers body drift out to sea, the flames lighting up the water around it. James then reached into his pocket and pulled out a bullet with the words "Ticket to hell" inscribed on it. He loaded the bullet into a small 10mm pistol he carried in case of emergencies and held it up to his head.

The familiar cold metal on his head reminded him of the first time and the emptiness he felt inside made it so much worse. He gently closed his eyes and a gun was fired.