Grind City

Chapter 5

The movie proved to be Dane's typical fare. Impossible action. Pretty people everywhere. Excuses for lots of skin. Over done light flares. Some sort of brooding main hero who ends up sweaty in a torn shirt at least twice. Crawford couldn't tell if this one was supposed to be an epic military something-or-other or some sort of spy mission thing. Then again, he wasn't exactly paying attention. Dane and Jackie had ran their mouths over most of it, and it wasn't long before Crawford found himself dozing off again. It was probably the pizza he'd stuffed into his stomach. Then again, for as much as he'd eaten, Dane had at least three times as much. Together Crawford and Jackie had managed approximately half a pizza each in the two hours they'd had to hang out. In the last hour, Dane had eaten as much as the them both, and then some.

Crawford ignored it as Dane flopped across his lap to check the final box for any remnants.

"You've got to tell me your secret," Jackie demanded.

"What secret?"

"To putting a portal in your stomach. Seriously. Where are you storing it all? Your legs?! Wait, no. Those sticks couldn't hold anything."

"I'll have you know these sticks as you call them could kick your ass any day."

Jackie let out sharp laugh. "Yeah! I'll bet!"

"Well, you'd have to catch me to prove it wrong," Dane said as he fell back into his spot on the couch.

"You're a goddamn coward is what you are!"

"No! I'm smart. And fast. I get out of the way before anyone thinks to throw a punch."

"And yet you keep running your mouth, inviting fists right into your face."

Their banter carried on over the movie, yet they both seemed to be following the plot. Or maybe they'd both seen it before. Crawford could never quite tell if either one was capable of actually listening while their were running their mouths. Well, Jackie at least knew when to hold back. Dane seemed immune to the concept.

"Well..." Jackie said as she extracted herself from the couch. "...I gotta get going."

"You're going to miss the best part!" Dane demanded over the sound of frantic gun fire and people yelling. "You gotta know the truth about who he's fighting!"

"I've got something I gotta do tomorrow. I can't be here all night."

"Sleep in!"

"Some of us have day jobs."

Before either one could say another word, a siren split the air. It overpowered the gunfight in the movie.

Crawford shot up from the couch, his heart slamming against his ribs. His hand slapped the couch, reaching for his phone, ignoring the demands of his two friends. Where the hell was his phone?!

"How is 911 calling you?" Dane demanded, shoving the blinding screen under Crawford's nose.

Without offering an explanation, Crawford slammed his thumb onto the answer button and brought the phone up to his ear. "Jo?" He said, some of that blind panic coming out in his voice. "What is it?!"

What Dane missed had been that the name of the caller had been set to 911, not the number. Not that it mattered, the only reason this number would be calling him was the most dire of emergencies.

"He got picked up in the park," the harried voice said on the other end of the line as Crawford waved to mute the TV. However his lack of care instead shut it off completely. "I can keep this quiet for an hour, maybe two. But you gotta come get him."