The Hellhound

Edge of the World

 I remember first hearing the news when I was sixteen, sitting in a high rise that overlooked Manhattan. After three years, America was winning the war. German troops were retreating.

But then two years later, Russia got involved.

I can still feel the chill in the spring air against my face from that night. Still hear my friend's laughter as it floated through the air and can still see the starry sky glittering above us. It was a nice distraction from the trash that tumbled around in the wind, tossed along the cobblestone paths that sprawled out before us. Dead trees towered above, spindly branches reaching up towards the sky while the thickets of brush jutted out from the ground. Moonlight had highlighted the green buds that clung to the bushes, revealing some had already begun to open despite the frost that dusted the world around them.

"We should get back to the City soon." A girl's voice had cut through the quiet night, her tone coming as a hushed whisper.

Before I could look over my shoulder at her, a laugh sounded from my right. The second girl in question had thrown her head back with a dramatized cackle, her red curls swinging with every bouncing step she took.

"Oh come on!" The redhead goaded with another laugh, reaching down into the plastic bag dangling from her fingers. She sifted around a bit before retrieving a can of red spray paint and giving it a pointed jiggle. "Can's not empty yet! Grow a pair, would you?"

"Mira," I butted in with a groan.

Mira's attention landed on me, and her amused grin only seemed to grow even more as she once again jostled the can. I snorted as she angled it towards me and, unable to help myself, I obliged and took it from her. "Hell yes!" She all but cheered, digging back through the grocery bag for what I assumed to be another can. "See, Simone? Your girlfriend's not a pussy!"

There was a grunt of apparent disapproval from behind and I finally glanced over my shoulder at my girlfriend. She sauntered along behind us, one hand stuffed in the pockets of her puffy jacket and nose glinting red in the light of the moon. In her other hand, a case of beer swung at her side. After a moment, those brown eyes met mine and a subtle smile settled on her lips.
"Gonna come to my rescue or what, Ro?" She hummed as I dropped back to walk along beside her.

"Thought you could handle yourself," I teased, nudging my arm against hers and she snorted. "Right, Sage?"

Sage merely rolled her eyes a bit at the nickname, though gladly leaned against me as we walked. "Is that you admitting defeat or laziness?"

"Against Mira?" I shot a look to the taller girl who'd taken the lead. Upon hearing her name, she tossed a look over her shoulder at us, sticking her tongue out. The silver of her tongue piercing glinted in the moonlight before once again disappearing behind her lips as she trotted along ahead of us. "Defeat," I decided, wrapping an arm around Sage with a laugh. "Definitely defeat."

"My hero." She rolled her eyes, though she still settled into my embrace nonetheless.

The subtle smile on her lips never faded as we fell into silence. Eventually, the only sounds were that of the distant hum of an airplane and the crunching of stone under our feet as we walked through the park. After about the third time of swiping her sleeve across her nose with a harsh sniff, I broke the silence.

"I'm just about out of paint." I gave the can a pointed shake, though it proved the opposite of what I'd just told her. The girl gave me a knowing look, one eyebrow raised a bit. "Besides. Told some of the cheer girls we'd sneak in some gym time this weekend. They'd have my head if I showed up dead on my feet." I flashed her a wink, corners of my lips tugging up a bit as I offered a smile. "We'll head back to my place after this. Maybe get some pizza on the way if you want?"