Binds and Brands

Why Should I Forgive?

A new day, and the smell of gasoline filled the air, waking everybody out of a half-restful sleep. To say they were tired was an understatement, but after years of preforming this feat everyday was nothing abnormal.

Backs cracked like it popped pills of caffeine in their system, and everyone piled in the room, gathering round the table and taking seats in the couch, besides Geoff, who stood before them, curling his hands into eachother and gaining a devilish look on his face.

"Alright, assholes, suit up. I’ve got something planned."

Jack raised a single finger to interrupt, but was quickly shushed by the Ram.

"Don’t worry, it’ll be fun."

And with that last sentence everyone piled away into their rooms, gathering their necessities.

The cat streamlined his way straight to his room, throwing open the dresser and peering in it.

Michael clambered through his dressers, searching for his prize, tail flicking fruitlessly behind him.

After he pulled out an old T-shirt and threw it aside, only then did he uncover what he searched for: A switchblade, his favorite knife. He gave a sloppy grin and tucked it away in his pocket.

He turned and grabbed his pistol that laid on safety right beside his bed, and turned to face the door, only to meet face-to-face with Ray.

"Hey," Was the only blunt thing he said before reaching beside Michael and grabbing his cologne on his side table.

"What gives?" Michael asked, cocking a brow, giving an unamused look. Well now he knew why he always had to buy more so early.

"Homemade mace. Atleast their eyes smell like - what is it- sea mist? Yeah, that, for a couple days." he said as he plunged the small bottle in his pocket.

Michael could only sigh and roll his eyes at this point.

"Alright, just… don’t use mine next time, alright?"

Ray nodded, and darted out of the room, leaving the Cat to himself.

By the time everyone had gathered back into the living room, everyone looked slightly different. Ryan had a mysterious Rucksack slung over his shoulder, Jack had a vest on, Gavin had a backpack filled to the brim with unrecognizable things, Geoff, questionable lumps in a large leather jacket, Ray, fairly uneven pockets, and Michael constantly shuffled with his. He obviously hid something deep within them.

Who knew he could fit so much?

"Alright, let’s go. Ryan, start up the car."

Ryan nodded, heading towards it without a minute’s hesitation, the the rest of the crew followed suite like ducks following their mother, gathering in the car as Ryan began to rev the engine.

As they pulled out, Geoff turned and said something that could cause hearts to get caught in throats.

"Hope you brought bullet-proof vests."

They pulled into a vacant parking lot, and could practically hear the tumble weeds scowering the ground, scratching at the dirt. People were no where around for, dare it be said, miles. The only vaugley human noise was the occasional police siren.

It was perfect in the Ram’s eyes, it was like they glinted in gratitude.

"Get to work," He said flatly, opening up his Jacket, which was no surprise in the hot air, and pulling out a hand grenade, "I don’t want a standing building when we’re done."

Micheal shuffled in his place.

"I don’t really have anything for this." He mumbled. The elder man only bit his lip in thought.

"You can hav’a couple of mine. I got quite a few." He stated, handing the one he had just pulled out to Micheal.

Michael beamed as he curled his fingers around the small metal ball in his hand. It felt lovely having one of these in his possession again. Nearly nostalgic.

Ryan, on the other hand, came completely prepared. He set his rucksack on the ground and pulled a moderately sized rocket launcher from it. He held it and waited for Geoff to give a nod of approval, once he did, Ryan pulled a pair of headphones out of the sack and pulled them over his ears, waiting for the rest of the group to start.

By this point, it seemed like Michael was the only one without any explosives of his own, but there was no-one to blame, he was never informed.

"Well, go on," The Ram coaxed, and that’s when all hell broke loose.

Ryan fired first, blowing a huge hole is some somewhat-nearby ground, and that set everyone off, giggling as they threw lit strings and destroyed enough ground to build a luxury pool.

Ray was rapid-firing, pulling pins and spitting off the balls at lightning speed.

Just as Gavin was pulling another pin from a grenade, he picked something up, the small hum of police sirens.

"Uh, Geoff?" he asked, getting slightly worried.

"Yeah, Gav?" the Ram responded.

"Police," was the once word he muttered before they could be seen pulling off the road in the distance, the bare landscape that surrounded them firing dust from behind them in a frenzy.

Geoff cracked a dead, relentless grin.

"Just what I wanted."

He stood there, unmoving. Like it was a death wish.

When the cops got out of the white, still blaring call, he reached into the jacket, pulling a small gun out of it.

The police were about to piss themselves. They were terrified, honestly. They had heard of these people from other police stations, they killed masses of men. Destruction was nothing unheard of them, not to name the fact that they held live explosives in their hands.

Ryan carefully aimed the Rocket launcher at their car, and Geoff knew what they were all thinking. And like that, he cut the leash.

"Go nuts."

Within seconds the car was upturned 20 feet away, and on fire. Geoff shot numerous fires off into the crowd of police, who subsequently scattered for their lives.  Joined shortly after by Michael.

For a few minutes, everything was fires ringing off and one could swear they’d be deaf by now, but the dust quickly cleared and Geoff let a sigh of relief escape his mouth.

Ray’s eyes quickly averted and he leaned into Geoff, whispering something to him. The Ram’s mouth flat-lined and he walked curtly over to the burning rubble, nails tapping on the metal.

He stared into the distance, and in the corner of his eye, he saw it, a small, frail cop cowering like a small child in the corner. He was completely helpless, and it was Delicious.

He strutted over the man, large, almost permanent present hat shading his face like a movie villain.

"Hey, buddy, need help?" Geoff asked lamely, watching over him.

The cowering man looked up, and met eye to eye with him. He was petrified. He could feel all sense of confidence shrivel up in himself and die with a meek voice.

"Need help." He restated, not bothering with emotion, and he shot a single bullet, right through his skull.

Bright crimson splattered on the ground, making a gross sand-plasma mix on it.

"You needed it."