Self Destructing Messenger

#8.5 - I SCREAM

Tension stiffened every muscle in Cayce's body causing his movements to be slightly robotic. Sweat rushed from his pores. It beaded across his forehead and wet the strands of green at his hairline. His face mask felt thick and heavy against his jaw. The fabric restricted his oxygen and super heated what little air that passed through. A fine tremor had settled in his bones, making him fidget with anxiety. His worst enemy was only yards away and closing fast. Somehow he continued to walk, putting one boot in front of the other. God he just wanted to run.

In step with him, Azalea glanced over. The blonde rolled her eyes and lightly punched his arm. "Jesus," she said as a police car rushed by. "Can you act more guilty?"

"I'm sorry," he said sarcastically, eyes narrowed. "I'm not really use to being a fugitive." He also wasn't use to going so long without a hit. Withdrawal was a b@!&% but now probably wasn't the best time to get messed up. That's what he kept telling himself anyway as he didn't know any sources in the area. Now would be the worst moment to get caught in a police sting.

"You didn't have to come."

Cayce laughed dryly. "Oh but I did. I am not hanging around with that a#!hole. Besides, I'm not letting you go out alone to do this or anything else."

Azalea tucked her hands under her arms. "I've done this plenty of times without you."

"I'm sure you have," he remarked.

She stopped suddenly and turned on him. "What in the hell does that mean?" The words came out sharply, piercing him like daggers.

His regret was instant. In fact he had wanted to take back what he said before she had even reacted but it was too late. "Well," he started, carefully. "It isn't your first time, is it now?"

"No. No of course not," she replied as she stepped off again.

He followed, relieved to have avoided her wrath. Cayce knew what she was capable of and was also aware that they weren't well enough acquainted that she wouldn't focus that fury on him.

"I just think we should stick together right now," the mohawked man stated, desperate to fill the silence that stretched between them. "I mean you can't sense idols. I can."

"I appreciate it, Highlander," she said, smirking. "Now if only you had laser vision. Maybe you'd be useful."

Cayce clutched his chest in mock agony. "That hurts, Revvy."

"Don't call me that," Azalea snapped, stopping mid stride.

"Oh come on," Cayce groaned. He hadn't thought she'd react so severely to Pyro's pet name. At this rate, the journey would take days. "Quit being so sensitive!"

She rolled her eyes for a second time. "I'm not. Actually, we're here. I told you it wasn't far."

Looming over their heads was a brightly colored sign. Pink, white and brown swirls of dessert heaven topped with a bright red cherry were advertised in cartoon-esque art.

Frozen deliciousness promised mere feet away, the two headed inside. At the counter Azalea ordered orange sherbet on a waffle cone. Cayce got also got the cone preferred by kings and strawberry.

It was such a simple bit of goodness but one that they both needed desperately. In those sweet treats was more than a billion calories, there was also distraction; sugary serotonin release from idols and police and dipshits in spandex.

They stepped back into the world, hearts lighter and hands wrapped protectively around pure creamy goodness.

As Cayce brought the treat up to his mouth, he realized something...

...that he couldn't remove his mask in public.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!"