Peppermint And Gunpowder

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Starless Eyes

"Are you sure it has to happen so soon?" I watch as Poison paces around the room, sometimes pausing to write something on a notepad before resuming his pacing. "I mean, can't it wait a few more days?"

"No," He says simply. He runs a hand through his hair, fingers ruffling his bright red hair. "We can't wait. We have to go soon. Dr. D said he's sending another Killjoy here in a few days time, that's the most we can wait."

"How did you talk to him?" I ask. We have generally never been able to contact Dr. D when not seeing him face to face.

"Kobra was able to wire through radio waves and call him, he's always been good at that kind of thing, you know." He looks out past the windows as if he was able to see through the grime, dirt, and spray paint. "He's so much smarter than he seems... he was so little when we brought him out here, I don't know how he's made it this long. I'm surprised he isn't dead already."

"Brought him out here? What do you mean?" I stand and move towards him, pulling him into an embrace. He doesn't respond, just stands there with my arms wrapped around his torso.

"We were born in the city. My mother worked for the city as a secretary, my father worked as a carpenter. I was the first child, and Kobra came three years later. Of course, he wasn't Kobra then just the same as I wasn't Poison." He touches my arms gently and rests his head atop my own. He just stands still and I do too, savouring the moment and remembering his voice because I don't know what will happen within the next week. I don't know if this moment will be our last.

"Who was he then?" The smell of cigarettes and unscented soap wafts around me and I press my face to his chest. I hear his heart pound inside and feel his bones protruding from his skin.

He's too skinny for his age. A twenty eight year old man should not weigh as little as he does.

He breathes deeply, so deeply the rise and fall of his chest is more evident than normal. He breathes as if there is only so much air left and he's quickly running out.

"I can't tell you." Poison whispers, voice dropping deeper and scarily quiet. "The boy he once was is something he's hidden from everyone, I don't even think the other guys know who he was. We changed our names before we came here."

"What made you come here?" His breathing eases and his heart no longer pounds against his ribs.

"My father died on a construction site, that was the first big thing that happened. We knew something was wrong the day he didn't walk through the door at exactly 5:00, that's when he got home every other day. I was only about fifteen at the time and I understood more than I should. I understood something bad happened when my mother came to me, teary eyed and told me something had happened to my father and he wouldn't be coming home." He pauses. I look up at him, half expecting to see some sort of sorrowful expression on his face, but he just blinks slowly and his lips fall in an unfaltering line.

"What about Kobra?" I continue to watch his emotionless face. This is unlike him, no emotion or anything hiding behind his eyes.

One thing I've always loved about him is the spark in his eyes when he speaks, the spark that looks like stars taken from the sky and somehow places right inside his eyes. Maybe it's just the light reflecting from the laps or beams of sun through the windows, but I see it as something more.

And, I swear, when he speaks of somethings, like the revolution, his brother, or Gracie, the spark becomes a fire. He speaks broadly and passionately, sometimes I expect him to jump atop a chair or the Trans-am or whatever is close enough and begin preaching.

But there is no stars in his eyes now. Not as he speaks of his father and mother and life before the Zones, before he became Party Poison and Kobra became Kobra.