Innocent Attraction and Dangerous Distraction Innocent Attraction and Dangerous Distraction
By Chustang Sundust

"Come on Aniki! You're fine; now get your ass in the car!" Jim yelled impatiently, and angrily blared the horn to hurry up his lethargic comrade and legal guardian. The eight-year-old kid twisted his lips in a frown, and his blue eyes narrowed underneath his dishevel top of blonde hair, honking again and again. Finally, he heard the annoyed reply from Gene.
"I'm coming! Hold your horses, would you?" he yelled from the bedroom. The redhead sighed angrily to himself, ruffling the stiffness from his spiky crimson locks, then slipped on a shirt from the sea of them on the floor. Gene pulled his shoes on, a pair of worn, dirt-smudged sneakers he'd had for years and still flopped on his ankles when he ran. Another loud and impatient blare announced Jim was still waiting. "Alright already Jim! I don't think I've forgotten already," he yelled again. But still, he sprinted down over to the stairs, leaped fearlessly onto the rail, slid down and landed running, sprinting out the door to the garage.
Jim was clearly displeased with Gene's childish lateness and lethargy, and the young face held a dictating parental force of authority. His eyes flickered to Gene's empty hands, and the frown didn't lessen a bit. "Gene," he reprimanded softly, folding his arms over the steering wheel of his classic car.
"What?" the fiery-haired teen, only seventeen, asked innocently. His eyes flickered downward suddenly, and he looked at his hand, which held nothing. Instantly, Gene plastered on a sheepish grin to his dark-skinned and slightly scarred face and turned to run back up the stairs. "I'll get it!"
Jim cynically frowned again, and slapped his palm against his forehead. And promptly, it developed its daily headache for today. The kid leaned against the horn and blew a lock of golden hair impatiently from his face, and the drone of the blaring horn seemed to drown out some of the embarrassment.

"So, if this is any good, why are we getting rid of it?" The redhead cast curious steel blue eyes through the whipping mess of red hair, at his younger comrade. In his hand, was a shining, bronze castor gun, which caught the midday sun like a gem and sent back to their eyes in a blur of golden-bronze light. Gene lightly ran his fingers across the steely cold skin of the rare gun, lifting it up. It was probably worth more than he had made in the last five years, considering that wasn't all that much.
"We're not getting rid of it Gene," Jim explained, turning his head from the road for a minute. The blonde pressed the blocks tied to his shoes against the brakes to slow down at the streetlight, then looked back to driving.
A confused wave washed over his Aniki's face and he lifted an eyebrow. "Hey come on, you promised you'd explain what we were doing if I woke up before eleven today," he reminded Jim, slipping the Castor into the sheath that he'd found on the dead owner of the gun. Gene heard the kid laugh, and grin slyly at him.
"So I guess you fell for my trick."
"Jim!"
The kid was grinning too much and it burst into laughter, as Gene just folded his arms indignantly and looked away. His lips were pursed huffily, yet he didn't close his ears to the prodigy as he explained. Jim didn't mind the anger between them; it just proved he could hit a nerve when it came to Gene. The blonde looked back to the road and pressed the acceleration. "No, really," Jim said. "You know the man we saw in the alley, the night we found the castor? Well, I got to digging in the police database – "
"Again?" Gene interrupted cynically, not looking at the kid. His dark blue eyes scanned the dusty and empty of Locust, where anymore than the hometown kids wandering for a good time were considered strange. The sidewalk was always empty. All the businesses were by the spaceport anyway; there were only apartment and small, family run stores uptown.
"Yes, again," Jim replied sarcastically, displeased with Gene's snap. "I am a hacker you know. And I'm expected to run the business, too."
"Yeah, well," he said, leaning against the car side and placing his chin in his palm, "but you aren't the one who busts his ass fighting all the bounties you come up."
"Anyway," Jim muttered under his breath, flashing sulky blue eyes at him ever so often, "I found out the other guy is wanted for 10 grand. It looked like he stole the castor gun from a weapon smuggler and gave it to his friend we killed in the alley. He probably wants it back. So, I was thinking. If we used the castor as bait, we might be able to ambush him. Uh, I mean… you might be able to ambush him…"
But Gene hadn't been listening. As the wind whipped through his hair, blowing icily against the burn of forming scars on his cheek, he looked tiredly down the streets. He'd learned to take all the words, memorize them, then stuff them in the back of his head until he needed them, then he'd figure it all out. So that left him free to think about whatever came his way. His eyes dully fell on the people for some thought. He fell into a boring game of naming all the people. That was Trisha Leer, and her sister Tammi, George Hemlock, Ed, Edd, and Eddie, and…
Who was that?
Gene instantly noticed her; she was new to town. She was alone on the streets, holding a bag of groceries, and was just drop dead gorgeous. Not in the way he'd seen before: just different. She was tall enough, probably just up to his shoulder, and couldn't have been more than fifteen. With long, vibrant, and jet black hair and long stands caught over her ears blowing gently in the wind, her hair was thick and layered with many tones of shine. Her face was rounded and soft with an inborn gentility, and he could see her large, chocolate brown eyes filled with an attractively soft light. Her hips swayed slightly when she walked, with just a touch of attitude to her stride. He seemed glued to her dark and mysterious beauty. Who was she?
"Gene!"
The redhead turned to meet Jim's furious eyes and pursed lips. "Anyway, back to what I was saying…"
"Yeah, okay," Gene grumbled quickly, turning his head to look at the mystery girl again. But, to no avail.
They'd left her in the dust.
Jim sighed, and then turned back to the road. He'd just run through a stoplight. He screamed in fear, as he saw another car suddenly collide. Talking to Gene had distracted him and it cost them. The redhead turned at Jim's scream of pure terror and gulped, knowing not if he'd live; yet his mind was still glued to the girl. Red-hot pain, then black.

End