Eyes of the Wolf

9
I had been shot about seven times since “Sparrow” when a large bell rang and a voice called out “All right, back to the entrance. Time’s up. Look for the flashing yellow light…”
The direction I was supposed to go was still unclear to me—I could see no yellow lights at all, and I was back on the ground floor. When I saw a person with iron-grey hair weaving through the black poles, I followed him instead. I had only been behind him for a few minutes before he spun and looked down at me. His eyes still glowed in the weird lighting, but somehow they were different…eerier.

“Oh, hey Niko!” I greeted. When I looked more closely at him his eyes were in their usual state. Probably my imagination.

“Hey,” he returned, waiting for me to draw even with him before continuing. “Wha’d you think?”

“It was a lot of fun,” I professed enthusiastically. He smiled, placing his hand between my shoulder blades, his right hand putting his gun in its holster. Electric currents seemed to branch from my spine and out, and my brain fuzzed at the sudden contact. Should I reciprocate? Returning to the armory, I put my vest back on its rack and furtively glanced at him. His hair was black. Maybe the hair color thing had been a trick of the light. I watched as he and his sister argued and talked trash to each other. Adam still dawdled off to the side as if lost.

We had just passed through the circular room again when another employee approached me.

“Name?”

“Uhh…Maya.”

He rifled through a handful of cards before giving me a stiff piece of paper. Looking at it, I read:

1. Nighthunter
2. Sparrow
3. Overlord
4. Nightmare
5. Boogieman
6. Annihilator
7. Terminator
8. Storm
9. PrncssPeach
10. Hades
11. MAYAN
12. Hawkeye
13. Fang
14. Quill
15. Hydra

“What is this?” I asked Niko as he got his own card.

“Our placing.” He shot me a quick look before explaining, “We got scored on how many people we shot minus how many times we got shot.” With his forefinger he indicated rows that showed “Shot you, You shot” crossed with “Lftshldr, Rtshldr, Front, Back, gun.” Looking at his own, he scowled.

“Second place.” He sounded disappointed. “You didn’t do too bad your first time.”
Frowning at it, he turned. “Hey, Nikki! How come you only beat the guy with the toddler?”
“It’s just a game,” she sniffed at him, looking disdainful.

“The guy was an open target, and his kid was shooting the gun in every direction! You only beat him?”

“I am not as obsessed as you are, and it looks like you got beat by someone who takes the name of a little bird.” Her eyes flashed. Focused on their argument, I almost leapt out of my skin when I noticed Adam leaning just over my shoulder to look at my card. I hadn’t even heard him. Even as he turned away from the card in my hand, he didn’t make a sound except with his flip flops, and that was only with me listening for it.

“Hey.” A warm hand fell onto my shoulder. The owner sounded irritated. “Let’s play some more air hockey.”

Reluctant to have him let me win again, I thought quickly. “Why don’t you and Nicole play? Let off some steam.”

He took a breath and nodded.

Sure enough, watching him and his sister play for less than thirty seconds convinced me that he had to have let me win. Her reflexes were much faster than mine, and yet he was still beating her. I watched as his teeth bared in a wolfish grin as he struck at the puck repeatedly.

He and his sister looked very much alike. They had the same hair, same pale eyes, same build and, even though hers was slightly narrower, the same basic facial structure. The siblings also seemed to share the habit of playing on the balls of their feet, knees slightly bent.

Niko and Nicole. Not the most original names, I thought to myself, leaning against the table behind me. Niko and Nicole. Even if they were twins—and it looked like they were—Niko and Nicole were awfully similar. Why not take away the whole bother and just call them both Nikki?

After being soundly beaten by her brother, Nicole said in a weary tone, “Are we going in again?”

“Sure.” Niko put the white hitter-thing back on the table. A cocky smile crept onto his face. “Though from your last score, I highly doubt you’ll win at that, either.”

Her eyes narrowed into a nasty glare. At my right, Adam, who had been watching the game progress with evident disinterest, stiffened.

“We’ll see,” she whispered, and stalked to the counter.

:o3

The game started much the same. I had decided to keep my typoed codename, but I was number seventeen this time. We all walked into the forest of spattered posts and separated.

I was upstairs almost instantly this time, not stopping to shoot or anything as my weapon hummed to life in my hands. Crouching down in a new spot, I began shooting out every pink and green light that came into my view. SHOT HAWKEYE. SHOT AMOEBA. SHOT TERMINATOR…

My lights went out with the usual hum, all except for the screen that depicted GUN HAWKEYE. Great. As I heard more vests vibrate back into play, I suddenly found that I was getting picked on, getting shot again the moment I revived.

Move. If I moved they wouldn’t have me pinned to one spot. I started running as my vest rebooted. The thin red light from my gun went out again, and I saw Adam flit by. He paused, looked at me, and tapped his earlobe at me before disappearing from view.

Listen?

I heard footsteps thumping on wood all around me. My sneakered feet carried me across the floor, serving me as I shot at a few more lights.

Suddenly the hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and my belly seemed to have found its boulder again. I felt blood rush through my veins as fear chugged up my arteries, dragging adrenaline. Footsteps sounded softly behind me, somehow audible amongst the stomping.

Listen…

They stopped close by, and I tried to pay more attention to the silence more than my pulse rate. Just one more step…

Listen…

Thump?

Run.

I sprinted through the posts, hearing heavy footfalls now, plap plapping against the wood. My big gun hung uselessly in my hand, hitting me in the calf after every few strides for forsaking it. No other players seemed to know what to do with one of the people shooting through the dark forest of splatters of color like stains…

The flat drumroll behind me suddenly stopped as my ears also heard a vest hum. I ducked behind a small corner, panting as quietly as I could, and got shot by somebody passing by, but I didn’t bother to check the gun. Almost inaudible, a snarl came from the across the wall, and the footsteps carried the voice away. Relieved, I sagged to the floor, my breathing labored.

A figure stalked past, swinging its gun on me quickly, as if caught by surprise, but pausing when they took in my condition. The weapon dropped, and Adam peered at me over it. Hesitating, he walked closer.

“Hey? Are you okay?” he queried softly, sliding the gun into its holster. I swallowed.

“Yeah, I—I just need to—to get my breath.”

I stared between my knees at the orange-flecked floor beneath me. Cloth rasped against cloth as he squatted next to me.

“Were you running?” I nodded. “Why?” His voice sounded as shaky as my own.

Good question, come to think of it. “Bad feeling,” I mumbled. He inhaled, the act taking what seemed to be minutes.

“Predators pursue fleeing prey,” he whispered. I lifted my head, but his green eyes were, as usual, looking elsewhere. “If chased, turn and fight back. Then they will run.” Unsettled, I watched him get up, unsheathe his gun again, and glance quickly at me once, meeting my eyes. Before I could even begin to react, he strode off without looking back.

I sat in my corner until the bells rang.

:o3

I followed the herd to the armory and deposited my gear on the rack again, feeling stupid for my performance in the dark room.

The rack two away from me had its vest dropped unceremoniously upon it, and I tilted my head to see Niko gazing firmly down at it. His hair looked grey again, and he seemed to be covered in a sheen of perspiration. Abruptly his body tensed and his head whipped around, eyes boring into mine. My pulse felt like it had flat-tired itself, tripping before the blood gave a shove and went careening through my circulatory system at an alarming speed. His eyes—the pupils were almost totally dilated, though they trembled, like they were trying to force reconstriction in vain. I was barely beginning to notice that the rest of his face seemed different somehow when a body interposed itself between us, and I blushed when I recognized the other boy in our group. God, I felt so, so, so stupid.

Adam whispered breathily to himself, eyes fastened on his vest, as Niko trotted briskly from the room, his sister on his heels.

:o3

Seventh, I discovered, was my place that run. At the top of the list, Niko and Nicole had gotten third and second, respectively. Obviously this tweaked Niko’s nerves very much, and he began hissing at her in a furious undertone, which prodded her right into the verbal fray. Adam was obviously more than content to keep his placing to himself, but he seemed very keyed up, watching the siblings’ fight with undivided attention. When Nicole reached out and slapped her brother’s arm with a loud smack, he jumped, bumping into me and looking panicked. I deliberated quickly and reached up to Adam’s shoulder, making him start further.

“I’m gonna call my dad, okay?” I informed him, glancing to Niko and back to him. Adam nodded, his gaze already fixed on the loud pair in front of us again as I walked to the other side of the atrium.

:o3

My dad was in his car and leaving my house when Niko approached, a tired grin on his face.

“My dad’s on his way,” I intoned, dropping my phone back in my pocket. The smile faltered.

“Oh,” he said. He looked pretty bummed. Feeling immediately guilty, I hastily moved to make it better.

“You gonna call tonight?” I asked. His eyes brightened again almost instantaneously.

“Yeah, no problem! I can call tonight.”

My neck and cheeks were warm again. “Okay. Cool.”

There didn’t seem to be much more to say, but when my dad walked in the door, Niko and I were sitting side by side on one of the benches, his arm slung over one of my shoulders as my head rested just above his elbow.