Stereo Blast Volume 1 [MxM]

Chapter 3.1

Taylor met Cleo’s eyes with a sharp stare. He weighed the situation in his mind, taking in the count of Cleo’s men and what weapons he could see. He saw one gun tucked into the pants of a short black haired girl, a knife on one tall man, and nothing on the other guy. Cleo could be carrying anything from a standard kitchen knife to a lightning rod. Uncommon as they were, Cleo had a reputation for getting his hands on government only weapons.

Lightning rods were long metal pipes enhanced with electric currents. They were used in the Rising after the government found out electricity was about the only thing that could weaken a vampire. They weren’t allowed to be owned by anyone who hasn't been issued permission, but Cleo and the rest of the gangs didn’t give a s**t. Vampires were officially protected by Mason by a law put in place years ago. The fangers got to live in peace in Nio while the rest of the human race suffered in the s**t districts.

Thinking about it was just pissing him off.

“Stay the f**k away from the border. I don’t want to hear about you messing with my people again, clear?” Taylor slipped his hand into his jacket and around the handle of his gun. A lazor issued model he’d taken from his dad’s stash. The man had so many guns he wouldn’t notice. He flipped the safety off and rested his finger on the trigger.

Cleo gave a smug grin. “Keep your people away from us and we won’t have a problem.”

The lights from Cleo’s jacket flashed, fading in and out as the green color caught Taylor’s eye. He looked beyond the group of Eastcliffs, into Nitro and its cities inside. For a moment, he hesitated in what he was about to do. Ryan’s warning came to him, a soft-spoken series of words that didn’t connect until he was already pulling his gun out. If things had been different, he might have chosen another path. Ryan was his voice of reason, his anchor to the reality and consequences of his choices. But Ryan was here.

The lazor glowed a deep red and before Cleo could cover his shock, Taylor pulled the trigger.

The first shot hit the girl in the head. She fell back like a rock, hitting the ground with a thunk. The two men beside her caught her but were too flustered to pull our their own weapons. Two more shots. Point blank in each of the men’s faces. Blood and brains splattered across the streets. Chunks fell back from the sky from the entry wounds, raining down on Cleo’s shoulders.

Cleo grabbed his gun and aimed it at Taylor’s head.

Taylor’s backup had their guns drawn.

Cleo was screwed. So f*****g screwed.

The rustling of clothing, guns clicking, and the faint hum of the lively cities surround them. It was suffocating him. The long seconds where he counted his breaths and the droplets of sweat sliding down Cleo’s face took him back to the night he found Ryan. He shouldn’t be thinking about it, shouldn’t be connecting dots that didn’t exist, but he couldn’t get the scene out of his head.

Ryan was older than him by three years. The young boy, thirteen, had been beaten and tossed in a pile of trash. Bloody and bruised, Taylor found him unconscious and barely alive. If another hour had passed, he might have died. The thought alone caused so much rage inside of him he couldn’t contain it.

His hand was shaking. He couldn’t keep his eyes straight.

“Drop it,” he bit through his teeth.

Cleo just stared.

“Go f**k yourself.”

Time and time again, he shouldn’t be surprised by the world anymore. Yet, he couldn’t let the past go or think clearly about his future ahead. Before him, a nobody who would die like the rest of the s**t-f***s in this world had the upper-hand. He should have seen the signs. This was never about Cleo letting his ego go to his head. From the start, it had just been a ploy to get Taylor here.

And he’d fallen for it.

He looked up right in time to see the large black mass flying through the sky. It turned on its white lights, blinding him from making out the rest of it, but he’d seen enough. It was a helicopter. Military.

He didn’t have time to think of a plan. He threw his hand back, shot three times at Cleo without looking, and ran.

“Get back! Get back!” His voice was lost to the loud humming of the aircraft. The three men he’d gathered for this one battle shot at the helicopter, but the lights beaming down at them were too bright for them to get a shot. “Stop f*****g shooting!”

He knocked down one of their arms and jerked his head back to the city. “Forget about them!”

There wasn’t much time for him to worry about them all. If they weren’t going to listen, then they were on their own. He raced back to the edge of the bridge, but as he neared the platform connecting the base of Kitro and the bridge, shots were fire. A rain of bullets trailed along the path. Taylor fell back, his gun raised, and his back slamming down on the cement.

He choked, gasping, but he staring wide-eyed up at the helicopter. It turned around, gliding through the air. The lights dimmed and he could see it now. Two large guns equipped with electric and lazors were strapped to the sides of it. Two people hung out with the handles of the guns in both hands. Their faces were hidden by black helmets and visors, but they were government agents. No one in the gangs would hide behind government uniforms. They wore their pride with no shame, always sporting the colors of their gang.

The seconds he saw them, his body was jolted with fire. He crawled to his knees. The shots stopped as the helicopter turned around and searched the ground. He jumped to a clearing that hid him from sight. They turned the bright beams back on and the entire bridge lit up.

He didn’t know until then, when he saw their bodies, that he was alone. The men he’d gathered lay waisted where the shots had blown the cement to bits. And Cleo’s gang were a puddle of blood on the opposite side.