AllFreeNovel
Share Us
EIGHT
Decima
The flightto L.A. was far shorter than I’d expected, and once the wheels hit the ground, the guys sprang into motion. By the time the sun had fully set, they had the plan solidified.
The studio was a squat brick building on the outskirts of the city, about as far from actual Hollywood as you could get while still being within the L.A. city limits. I approached the two security guards on the outside of the side door, peering around the street as if I were lost or looking for something. The warehouses nearby were either abandoned or shut down for the night. There was no one around but us and the shadows.
This was my first act on the job, so I intended to prove just how much of an asset I was. I meandered past the guards without a glance at them, pretending to be too distracted to take notice.
“Hey, sweet cheeks,” one called out just after I’d passed him.
I was already whipping into action. I swung around and disarmed the guy who’d spoken with a brisk snap of my hands. A second later, I gave him a kick to the gut that sent him staggering toward a darkened alleyway—where Julius yanked him aside and put a bullet across the back of his head with a splatter of blood and brains.
The remaining guard was mine to handle, and I made it quick, dodging his fist and snapping the gun from his grasp. When he threw another punch, I allowed his momentum to drive him forward while I slipped behind him, wrapping an arm around his throat. The crack of his neck took only a sharp jerk of my body, and he fell to the pavement dead.
I turned and looked at Julius—his tactical uniform already speckled in blood. The black material masked it well, but in the hazy glow of the security lights, the liquid glints shone. He’d made a mess of his kill while I’d done mine clean, like I’d been taught. Suddenly my meticulousness wasn’t a benefit. A prickle of uncertainty ran through my body.
If I wanted to fit in with the crew, I needed to do things their way. Expertly orchestrated chaos, Blaze had recited for me gleefully. The gore made an impact that their clients wanted.
Well, I could learn. How better to learn than on my feet, watching them in action as an immediate model?
Julius didn’t remark on the difference between our kills, and neither did the other three men as they converged on us, though I thought Garrison raised his eyebrow with a hint of disdain at my corpse. He’d barely spoken to me since our evening hookup, and he didn’t break that pattern now.
We slipped into the studio, where large swaths of fabric hung from the industrial-height ceiling to section off the filming set. Julius, Talon, and Garrison headed to the left, while Blaze and I headed to the right, setting our feet so we didn’t make any noise. It didn’t sound as if the actors and crew were likely to hear us over the melodramatic shouts carrying from the soundstage.
“All is lost! How can we ever regain our former glory?”
I reached a gap between the curtains and peered through. For a second, I just stared.
The actors were dressed in… aluminum foil? Or at least suits that appeared to be made out of it, with motorcycle helmets coated in silver paint over their heads. One of them swung an elongated gun that wobbled in his grasp, clearly made out of foam rather than metal. Another poked at a small cardboard box covered in blinking lights that didn’t appear to do anything in response to his jabbing fingers.
Julius had said this was a low budget production, but this was really scraping the bottom of the barrel. I’d witnessed high school theater productions with better costumes and props than this.
It seemed to be a sci-fi flick. At least, I guessed that the mottled teal and purple surface under their feet and the mauve crepe bushes in the background were meant to be alien terrain rather than a sign that their set designer was colorblind. And the jumble of cracked metallic objects off to the side, which included a couple of cans I could still see torn scraps of soup labels on—that must be their crashed ship, I was guessing?
Confirming my suspicion, the actor with the box started talking. “There is still hope! The conditions on this planet can support our life. Perhaps there are other beings we will encounter, a grand new society we can become a part of.”
At his pompous tone, Blaze clapped his hand over his mouth to muffle a laugh. His amusement sparkled in his eyes despite his best efforts. I bit my own tongue, a giggle bubbling in my throat.
“How can you say such things, Robin?” the actor with the foam gun asked, swishing his weapon again for dramatic effect. “Earth is destroyed. Destroyed. We shall never set eyes on it again. All we have left are these tools… and our memories.”
I caught sight of Julius peeking through a gap at the other end of the sound stage, his mouth twitching at the ridiculousness in front of us.
“We still have each other!” the other actor declared.
“I suppose that is true.” The man with the gun swiveled toward the camera. “And if the world is on fire, then I can burn other things too.”
I had no idea what that sentence had to do with the story, but I could tell it was meant to be a tagline, one they imagined would be printed on the movie posters and quoted all around the world. Dear lord. We were really doing society a service here by putting them out of their—or everyone else’s—misery.
“Cut,” the director shouted. “That was the best take yet, guys. Really, you outdid yourselves. Take five and see if you can loosen up for the fight.”
Loosening up apparently involved shaking their heads and arms while making baboon noises. I clamped my mouth shut against another giggle. Then a conversation reached my ears from the crew on the other side of the curtain.
“This new camera setup is sweet, isn’t it?”
“Hell, yeah. And that stuck up jerk at the depot will never miss it.”
The first guy cackled. “Not from his grave, that’s for sure. Remember how he squealed like a pig going down?”
