The Stronghold

Home Of The Brave

For ages we deliberated about getting a taxi but then realised we had nowhere to go. By that time the airport had cleared of newcomers and people were looking at us all funny.

"Time to go and start some trouble," I said. "Will, follow me."

Tom rolled his eyes but walked alongside as I headed further into the depths of Las Vegas. It got steadily darker with more neon signs lighting up the sky as clouds rolled in.

"Now, Will," I said, turning to Tom, "to find our way around LA we need to think like someone in LA. Where do we go first?"

"An information office?" Tom suggested. I stopped in my tracks and turned to him with a huge grin.

"Brilliant idea!" I enthused. "Let's go!"

"You're weird," Tom muttered. "Very weird."

"I'm just happy," I said, spinning on the spot with my arms wide. "Viva Las Vegas, baby!"

"Please stop talking..."

I skipped down the road, arms swinging. I was elated, my head higher than the clouds with a beaming smile on my little face.

"Oi!" a voice yelled. "You! Red hair! Blue hair!"

"He means us," Tom said, grabbing my arm to stop me from bouncing onwards.

I turned my head to see a group of young men, the same sort of age as us, approaching Tom and I.

"What are you so happy 'bout?" the leader growled. He had a golden tooth and a lot of tattoos. All in all he seemed pretty stereotypical of a gang leader, complete with heavyset cronies at his back.

"The fact that I never have to look on a face as ugly as yours ever again," I replied, continuing on my way.

Wrong thing to say!

So?

I'm closer to them than you are, I'm going to die!

"What did you say?" the gang leader snarled. I ignored him and started humming to myself as I hopped gaily onwards.

"Oi! I'm talking to you, kid!"

There was the sound of a gun being drawn and Tom squeaked in fear. I sighed and walked back, head lowered but watching the gang out of the corner of my eye.

"Did you call me 'kid'?" I asked in a calm, quiet voice.

"Yeah, I did," the leader sneered, standing so that we were nose to nose. Unfortunately for me he was a bit taller and so thought he had the upper hand.

Fortunately for me, I did.

"Who are you?" he continued. "A mosquito?" His cronies laughed and I narrowed my eyes.

"Why, do you want me to bite you?" I responded.

"Just answer my question."

"Blur Jerries. And you are?"

"It don't matter, kid."

"Well, It Don't Matter - can I call you It? - I'd like you to stop calling me kid, thanks." I smiled and there was a flash of anger in It's eyes.

"Don't mess around with me, kid," It hissed, poking me in the chest with the butt of his gun. "Or you might just find yourself with a hole in your head."

"I already have one," I said. "It's called a mouth."

"Shut it then or I'll shut if for ya," It threatened.

I was silent for a second or two. Then: "No thanks."

In the time that I was quiet I'd sent a message to Tom, detailing a plan of attack. I'd thought of it so quickly I wasn't even sure if I understood it but I was just going to wing it and fight.

My elbow crushed into It's throat and he crumpled as my fist swung around and hit him under the chin. He sank to the floor, wheezing.

I didn't hesitate in jump-kicking him in the stomach, the head and the groin respectively. Blood stained his jacket as he fell face first into the road.

Tom had been cornered by three of the cronies whilst the other four ran at me. I bent my legs and used my fabulous speed to lend me height as I sprang upwards, pushing off their heads and slamming them together. Two went down, falling over one another's legs. A third tripped over It and hit her head, skidding across the road on her nose and hitting the gutter.

The single remaining cronie that was running at me stopped and hesitated. I grinned coldly and took my gun out of the back waistband of my jeans. It wasn't exactly comfortable there but it was kept out of sight. A special device implanted inside the barrel of the gun made it seem non-metallic when passing through metal detectors, enabling me to carry it anywhere and everywhere.

"I wouldn't run, if I were you," I said softly. He whimpered and sprinted in the opposite direction, yelling for the other cronies to follow him.

"It's a shame that you ran," I said, shaking my head. I pulled back the hammer of the gun with my thumb and squeezed the trigger. One, two, three, four shots were fired and one, two, three, four men fell to the floor, perfect circles in their backs.

Tom walked over to me, holding a hand to his bleeding nose. "Why did you do that?" he asked. "They were running away."

"We need to start trouble," I said coldly. "This is the best way to get people's attention. And anyway, aren't you grateful I stopped them ripping your head off?"

"Yes, but-" Tom was cut off mid-sentence by police sirens beginning to scream at us.

I grinned properly, my eyes lighting up. "We might want to run," I said.

"That would probably be best," Tom agreed. In unison we sprinted from the scene of crime, hurriedly hiding our weapons and making sure we didn't look too obviously guilty.

Despite the late time - it was about 11PM - people were still out and about, crowding the pavements and getting in our way. I put my head down and sprinted, a black, silver and red blur against the white backdrop of lights shining from casinos and clubs.

The sound of running feet spurred me on further. I knew that the police were following on foot and wasn't particularly keen to get shot. In this day and age police were allowed to shoot escaping criminals and Tom and I were escaping criminals.

Turn left, the first club, Tom ordered. I veered left and ducked into the nearest bar, praying that the inside wouldn't be anything awkward or that we'd meet someone we knew. Or that is was a gay bar.

"This isn't too bad," I murmured, slowing in the doorway. Tom crashed into me and I stumbled, grabbing the closest person for balance. Unfortunately it just happened to be Tom and so we both fell over, tumbling down the three steps into one of the most awesome clubs I'd ever seen.