CHAPTER TWO: ZAVIER'S ESCAPE

"C'mon, hurry up or we'll get caught!" I hissed.

Behind me, Zavier was sprinting silent as a cat. She'd taken off all the noisy things on her pants and stowed them in a pocket of her guitar case. I carried the shoebox and the CD player, and because she insisted, she carried her guitar.

"I'm trying! " she panted. With her black clothes, she blended so well with the shadows that I almost couldn't see her.
We were approaching my street now, about a mile and a half from the factory. I didn't have a car, (unless you could count my sister's beat up old sports car, which had a million different problems) and I didn't have the right build for a bike, even a monster one, so I usually walked to get around. I was pretty fast. In the sky, the sun was beginning to go down. It was the middle of October and it was cold out, making me slower than usual. I'd forgotten a jacket because it'd been warm and sunny out this morning.

"Randall, wait!" called Zavier suddenly. I stopped and instantly, my blood froze.
"Make it quick, some of us are cold blooded, y'know!" I snapped, curling my tail around myself and folding my arms against the chilly breeze. Zavier cocked her head.
"Really. I didn't know that. I just thought I saw something." she said.

I rolled my eyes. I grabbed her wrist and broke into a run, getting my sluggish blood moving ever-so-slightly. It was no use, I knew. Motion did not keep a reptile like me warm. Just warm enough to still be alive. Zavier sped up and broke away from me, darting in and out of the shadows.

"See that apartment building with the words "Reptillians Abraud" on it? Stop there!" I called. She raised a hand to show she'd heard and reached the building and stopped. I caught up and stumbled up the steps. Before I could open the door myself, however, someone else opened it. Zavier ducked and vaulted over the side of the porch.

"Randall! Do you have any idea how cold it is outside!" cried another occupant, a snake-like reptile with black scales and red eyes. I glared at him.

"Yes and I don't wanna listen to you! Just get the hell outta my way and let me in!" I growled. The snake, Jason, rolled his eyes and slithered out of my way. I stumbled inside, welcoming the heat in the house. Jason slithered up the stairs and disappeared inside his apartment.

Slightly warmer now, I poked my head back outside the door.

"Zavier? You still out here?" I called.
"Yeah, doing just fine." she replied sarcastically from over the side of the porch.
"The coast is clear, come on." I called.

She poked her head up and jumped up over the side again, banging the head of the guitar case on the cement as she did so. "Shit!" she cursed.

"Come one, before one of them comes out again." I cautioned. She followed me inside and up the narrow stairwell. I led her down the hall way and hurriedly unlocked the door to my apartment. I ushered her inside first, and a good thing too.

At that minute, the landlady's door burst open and she saw me, then disappeared back inside. She usually didn't mind if I was home a little late. She had an unusual liking to me. That's why I had a slightly lower rent. (Heh, heh.)

Inside the small apartment, Zavier had set her guitar case down on the living room floor and had taken it out. She was examining the head of it, frowning in deep concentration.

It was an electric guitar, black with a silver pick guard and a sticker at the bottom that said "still a fuckin' freak.'
"Nice." I complimented.

She looked up at me and smiled shakily. Her hair was all greasy from the trash on the ground and it was a mess. Her clothes were a little wrinkled, but not soiled. Her cheeks were pink from the cold and she was panting a little.

"Thanks. I got it from my older brother. He was only nineteen when he died a few years ago." she said silently. I didn't know what to say to that.
I carried her stuff in a spare room, the floor cluttered with a few boxes. Walking over to the closet, I dug out some shimmery purple fabric. It was a little darker than my scales and there was enough there for a costume. Zavier was about an inch taller than me (fronds not included) so she wouldn't need much. I grabbed a sewing machine off the bottom shelf and hurried back into the living room.

Zavier had put her guitar back in the case and was looking around. The couch was in the corner. It was more a love seat than a couch. I wasn't earning as much money since my ' banishment.' My TV set sat on a small stand in front of the couch and my stereo sat on the floor next to it. Around the room, a few pictures hung, mostly of my twin sister and me. She was dead now, killed in a car crash. It had been years ago, but I still liked to keep a few pictures around to remind me.

"Cool place." she said. I smiled and thanked her hastily. She eyed the sewing kit and laughed. "Who taught you to sew?" she asked. I pointed to a picture of Vanessa on the wall, wearing a blue knit top and holding the hand of a five year old me. I was holding a needle and was all tangled up in a jungle of pink thread.

"My sister." I told her.
"Oh." she said.
"Hey, what size shirt do you wear?" I asked. She raised an eye and stood her guitar case up against the wall.
"I dunno, a medium, probably." she shrugged. I eyed her lanky form and thought jeez, any thinner and she'd be a snake.
"Okay. I have an idea. If we dress you up like normal, then you may pass for what I have in mind." I thought out loud as I spread out the fabric and took the scissors in my hand. She touched the fabric tentatively. "It feels like the scales on my pet snake." she thought out loud. I looked up at her like she was crazy.

"You left your snake at home?" I asked coldly. She nodded.

"I couldn't carry that big tank if I were ten times stronger. Besides, he was sleeping. He hates being waken up, even for dinner." she explained. I sighed. If she had a reptile as a pet and she'd left it in the human world, then I was gonna bring it over. I knew how it felt to be left alone in that world.
"Next week, I'll call down the door again and we can get your snake. Does he have a name?" I asked. She nodded.
"I call him Picky." she said. I laughed.
"Picky? What, he's that temperamental?" I joked. She nodded, smiling at my reaction.

This was quite possibly the dumbest idea I had ever gotten, and as most strange ideas go, it felt right.

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