Flame Thrower

Colt Harbinger, a thief who steals a rare item is being hunted down by agents who hold a peculiar ability. The item that he has consumed, grants him the power of throwing fire from his hands.


2. On The Road

At a press of a button, the garage door opens. He ducks his head under. Her jaw dropped at the sleek blue-black vehicle inside, "That's your car?" She said. He got into the driver's seat, "Sure is. Being a thief and all, it pays."

She stepped into the car and shut the door. Looking at all the features, she's never been in an expensive car like this. He smiled a little and started the engine, "Don't forget your seatbelt." He reminded. She clips it on and sits back, "Sorry." He shrugged and said, "It's no big deal."

As he drove on into town, he asked, "So where are we going exactly?" She looked to him, "Uh, well, I have no idea." He took a turn and said, "So you have no clue of where we're going?"

She looked away with no answer. He sighed, turning back to the road, "Alright then." He turned on the stereo to listen to the radio playing rock music.

She looked to the stereo, still sitting in silence with a slight frown. The music fuzzed in static. He changed through stations, all came out the same. He sighed and just switched off the radio.

After a second, he said, "I know that was you." She looked to him, resting her expression. He looks back to her, "Was it also you calling me through the phone?"

She scoffed, "No, why would I call you? I'm much sneakier than that. And I did not screw with your radio." He nodded, holding up his fingers with one hand on the steering wheel, "Alright." He said, "So if it wasn't you, then who?"

"The child you mentioned, her name is Monica."

He held up his free hand, "Whoa, whoa! So it is a child?" She nodded her head from side to side, "Well...yeah." She said.

He nodded, calmly, "Ok." His grip tightened on the wheel, "How the hell did a little girl get into my basement?!" He boomed.

She explained, "Monica is like us, she's not a child, mentally. She's more advanced. Some have only one power, but others like me, have more."

He looks to her, "So what you're saying is, this kid is like...intelligent?" She nodded, "Yes, and she can pop into places. She would have been standing outside your house."

He groaned, angrily, "Wait 'till I get my hands on that kid." There's simply no way he would be able to catch Monica without her disappearing first. She looks back to the window with a smile, "Good luck with that."

He drove out of town as she suggested. It's best to find a place to keep low-key for a while. He stopped at a few towns over to park into a motel.

After they leave the car, he turns to her to say, "Here's the thing. I don't trust you all too well, so if we've been followed, or you betray me in any way,"-he imitates a gun-"a bullet to the brain. You got that?"

She nodded, understood, "Affirmative."

He takes money out of his wallet to check-in, "We'd like a room, please." The old man behind the counter gives him the key with the number 22, hanging from it.

As they enter the room, she sat at the one bed made for two. The sheets were red with gold flower patterns. He pulled off his coat and threw it on the side of the bed, "I call dibs on the shower." Taking his backpack with him to the bathroom, he locks the door.

She lied back with her head on the pillow and sighed. Closing her eyes, listening to the peaceful sound of the shower water running, she drifted away to sleep.

The door unlocks, he comes out dressed in new clothes, a black singlet and jeans. He watched her lying there on her back with her hands together, overlapped on her chest. He crept in next to her, rolling on his side to face the wall.

As soon as he closed his eyes, too many thoughts ran through his mind, the Unknown Forces, the Para, and that one little girl who stole the serum. And then his mind drew backward to the memory of her.

The woman with the long dark hair and one half blue eye. There's a stream of light behind her, and there's warmth in her smile.

His shoulders shook as he quietly cried. It hurt too much to bear. Tears ran from his eyes. He missed her, he loved her, and she gave up on him. She gave up on everything.

That very morning while she was out, he did a bit of a workout, not something he does every so often. He counted up to twenty push-ups, and then goes to take a break.

He splashed water in his face. Looking back at the reflection in the mirror as water dripped from his face, he still couldn't stop thinking. Whatever happened then was in the past, and he has moved on. Why for some reason does this memory of her, crawl in?

He patted his face dry with a towel and left. Standing at the dusty bookshelf, Bella said, "It's a shame," she took one, "no one has ever read these." The book was brown with no title written on the front.

She opens it to a random page and a spider crawls from inside it. She slammed it shut and closed her eyes without shaking. The motel is rather old and unkempt. It doesn't have the best rooms.

He grabs his white baggy shirt from the bed, "Not everyone has the time." He said. She looks over and notices the scars of some fairly big bullet holes in his back.

He pulled on the shirt and turns to see the odd look on her face, "What?" She blinked out of it, "Uh...nothing."

She cleared her throat and puts the book back where she found it, "You said you got shot so many times. How did you survive?" He pulled on his coat and said, "Just got lucky."

Not everyone survives a gunshot. Sometimes the bullet doesn't even go in that far, or it misses an organ. Either way, only few are lucky.

It was time to hit the road again. He went to check-out. As he returned the key, the old man seemed more off than last night, "Leaving so soon?" He asked, "Where are you two headed now?"

He looks back to her and then to him, "We're not really sure yet." He said. The old man takes back the key, "I hope you enjoyed your stay, the both of you." He nodded to them. Colt smiled awkwardly, "Yeah...we have."

They left to the car, "That was weird." He said, getting into the front seat. She buckled up her seatbelt, "What do you mean by weird?" She asked.

He shrugged, buckling his, "There's just something strange about him. I can't seem to put my finger on it." He starts the car and drives on.

The old man narrows his eyes and takes the key. He walks to the very room they were just in and unlocks the door.

He takes a long strand of hair from the pillow, her hair. The old man morphs. Like liquid running through his skin, he shifts into the form of Bella.

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