Neon Rush {M/M} ❀

Ch.20.1 Sun-bleached White Flag

Collapsed on the concrete with Gray's head cradled in his lap, Zef fires off a text. He's not even sure what it says, but Damo responds in a fraction of a second.

>>I'm sending help your way. She should be with you in a few minutes.

It alleviates none of the pressure closing in. Gray lies prone and vulnerable in his lap. Zef's never seen him asleep, let alone fainted.

Around them, bystanders gawk, and one woman crouches down to say, "Should I call an ambulance?"

"No, I already have," Zef lies. Their fake identities worked to get them access to the hotel dinner lounge. It won't fool hospitals or give them medical insurance.

He pats Gray's cheek, touch-aversion be damned, and to his relief, Gray's eyelashes flutter.

He stiffens, sits bolt upright, then grips his temple and sways. While trying to stand, his legs wobble, coltish. Zef supports him under the armpits, and the woman who offered to call an ambulance says, "Easy now." She reaches out to help Gray, too.

"I've got him," Zef says. Perhaps over protectively. "Thanks for your help. I think we've got it from here."

Gray says, "Did I? How long was I?"

"A few seconds. You just— fainted."

Damo's voice intrudes upon the white noise buzzing in Zef's ears.

>>My contact's a couple blocks away. Find a place to sit his ass down and wait.

Gray squints like the streetlights scald his eyes. Zef guides him away from the crowded street to an abandoned stoop he can sit on, ignoring his weak protests.

It all happened quickly, and auto-pilot took over, but the pause while waiting gives space for Zef's deferred anxiety. Had someone slipped anything into the food? Had the goon done something to Gray's implants? Was he ill?

A woman with a severe face and her blonde hair tied in a high bun approaches them. She doesn't greet them or address them by name, just says mechanically, "Follow us."

Us? She came alone. Zef pauses just long enough for Damo to pipe up.

"You can trust her."

Gray stubbornly refuses to lean on Zef. He walks with deliberate focus and the occasional wince.

The woman leads them on a circuitous route through back alleys and subway routes. They reach a hotel, neither skeezy enough to rent by the hour nor five stars of luxury, but some middle-ground. They follow the woman through the lobby, empty except for a few individuals who either avoid eye contact or offer sympathetic smiles. Zef's stomach flips scanning them all. None of them have public profiles for their names, not even pronouns.

A woman at reception greets them. Zef does a double take. She's identical to the woman who came to get them. Perhaps a twin? They nod in silent communication, and the receptionist reaches behind the desk, procuring two cards. Their leader takes the cards and, turning to Gray and Zef, says, "We know your implants are giving false identity readings, but it may be best to block them entirely for the duration of your stay."

To Zef's surprise, Gray acquiesces without protest. A glowing ring of yellow circles the iris of the woman, and abruptly Zef's HUD goes dark. It's disconcerting, the level of control she has. Given Damo's hints about a 'communication network,' the identical receptionist, and the glowing eyes, Zef figures they must be androids like Damo.

It feels awkward to ask in the quiet solemnity of the lobby, but as they continue to the elevators, Zef peers around in search of security cameras and finds none. Odd for a hotel.