Smooth Operator.

21. I Only Looked For You

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
I ONLY LOOKED FOR YOU

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LIFE APPEARED TO MOVE IN SLOW MOTION AS ESTELA FELL, THE CHAIRS FLOWING PAST HER CASUALLY. The body of the bloody White Death soldier tumbled after her, as if coming back to life for revenge upon those who had killed him.

Around her, the walls of the train crumbled to pieces, destroyed by tall, tough trees, and large rocks in the terrain.

Twisting in the air, still unable to fathom the discord in all directions, Estela moved her body until she could see Tangerine. Below her, the momentum pushing him back equally as hard, he disappeared down the aisle, of which had become so destroyed that it was now past any sort of prior recognition.

Although he looked alive enough as he fell, they had been separated, and now The Black Cat needed to fend for herself so as to not lose one of her nine lives.

Furnishings flew about her, as if on a spaceship, where no gravity could get in, and, thinking quickly, Estela grabbed hold of the only thing still planted into the floor; the stem of a table, the chairs on either side completely ripped from the ground.

Now dangling from the table for some sort of stability, Estela watched in awe as the dead henchman rolled down the aisle into the chaotic abyss below.

Everywhere around, below and above her rumbled, squealing as metal skidded against the ground, banging as metal crashed into buildings and obstacles alike.

The metal beneath her collided harshly with the ground, and Estela pulled herself closer to the stem, hiding underneath the table in order to ball herself and brace for impact, eyes screwed shut.

Despite her eyes clamped shut, Estela could hear the chaos worsening around her. Glass smashing, bricks crumbling down upon impact from the train car, trees being wiped out completely, cars in the street toppling over.

When the mayhem finally slowed down to a stop, Estela's eyes blinked uncertainly open. Breathing heavy and uneven, she clambered out from under the table, palms sinking into small shards of glass and clumps of dirt. She pulled herself to her full height, knees wobbling, barely unscathed, and looked around at the complete dismay.

Wires hung out the walls of the train car, swaying in the wind, exposed ends emitting sparks of electricity that crackled in the air. Shards of glass hanging on for dear life to the rest of their cracked body, before the wind blows a little too hard and they crumbled to the floor amongst the debris.

Tangerine.

Panic began to rise in her chest, her forehead growing hot and clammy by the second. She'd already lost him one time in the past twenty-four hours, and had to save him by her own hand. She was not ready for a second go.

Flames began to ignite in the debris, filling the air with gross clouds of smoke, which was difficult to see through. Regardless of the thick smoke emissions, Estela pushed on, trudging through the wreck in search of that blue fruit.

"Tangerine!" She called out, voice straining.

A beat passed with no reply, and bile seemed to form in her lower stomach; that faux feeling of disgusted panic when things begin to go wrong, only for you to find out your stomach is stronger than you think, and you won't puke, but things still don't go your way.

"Tangerine!" The woman called again, her legs moving down the wreck to the next carriage in hopes he would appear there.

Her eyes trailed desperately along the length of the carriage, which was only half the size of a normal train car, for it had been smashed in half upon impact.

Though her knees and ankles felt weak, she dragged herself closer to the flames, heat fanning her skin, readying to get a better look.

Further inside, against a wrecked wall, a large scrap of metal that had fallen from the ceiling scraped against the floor, something pushing behind it.

Black Cat hauled herself up into the carriage. "Tangerine?" She asked again, this time her voice softer than a shout.

From behind the metal scrap, a very intentional bang! hit the material. Of course, anything could've been a trap, but Estela's gut swelled with pangs of certainty. She hadn't known the man for very long, but her body knew it was him.

Her hands took hold of the jagged edge of the scrap, avoiding the sharper areas as best she could, and strained her arm muscles to push it off the body, whilst the body worked to help from beneath it.

Soon enough, after much straining, the body of Tangerine was revealed, dishevelled as ever. White sleeves stained a dusty brown all over, curls now completely free of the gel they'd been previously styled in, Tangerine brought a hand up to run over his face. When he looked up at Estela, his blue eyes were tired.

Estela kneeled down beside him, bare knees sinking into the dirt and dismay. Tangerine, still on his back, pulled himself up to his elbows, using them as a mean to stabilise himself.

The woman placed a hand on Tangerine's shoulder, a soft touch. "Are you okay?" she asked, brow furrowed in worry as her eyes searched the length of Tangerine's body.

"Just fuckin' peachy," the man replied, voice hoarse, eyes lingering on Estela's hand on his shoulder. The corner of his mouth quirked up and he let out a soft chuckle, one that erupted in a cough.

Tangerine pulled the rest of himself out from underneath the ceiling scraps and rubble, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

For the first time, now he was out, his gaze focused on the wreckage outside; flames and sparks, bust-up remains of shinkansen, buildings torn to bits, everything broken now far beyond redemption.

"Is there anybody else?" The man spoke up, eyes trailing over to Estela, who shrugged in response.

"I only looked for you."

The words flowed past Estela's lips and into Tangerine's soul like a beautiful siren song. He hesitated, taken aback by her truth, pale eyes barely able to meet hers.

"We need to find the others," he said, dismissing Estela's previous statement, jaw clenching, eyes averting. "If they're all gone, and The White Death is lurking, we need to finish this."

With that, Tangerine pulled himself to his feet with a wobble, legs uncertain with the ground after such a bumpy ride, and held out a hand. Gratefully, Estela placed her hand in his, clamping her fingers around his as he pulled her to her feet.