Urban Fallout (hold)

(3.2) Starr Boulevard

(3.2) Starr Boulevard

Jamie sat alone, on the floor of Lance's basement room. His head was full of stuffing, like he was one of the teddy bears that used to sit on his bed when he was a child. And his stomach hurt. Light filtered in through the window they'd neglected to curtain the night before. Lance's family had a ground level apartment—more expensive than Jamie could even imagine. It was like an actual house, if one ignored the sounds of those who lived above them.

Lance was still fast asleep. He was shirtless, blankets lying in a crumpled pile on the floor, by his bed. Jamie had gotten the couch cushions, stripped from the living room upstairs.

There was a knock on the window. Through the silence it was deafening, and Jamie jumped to his feet, looking frantically for its source. When he realize that, yes, it was a real sound, there was another knock. Jamie hurried over to the window. Snow knelt on the frosted grass of the courtyard, peering down into the basement. She grinned at him.

“Let me in!”

Jamie could barely hear her, but he knew what she meant, her lips easy enough to read. She began knocking again, and Jamie brought his finger to his lips. It was still early. Chances were, Lance's parents were still in bed.

He held up a finger, and whispered, “one second.”

Snow understood, getting to her feet.

Jamie weighed the pros and cons of waking Lance, but decided against it. Snow was waiting. It was best to get her inside as quickly as possible, then give him a surprise. Jamie didn't feel the least bit bad.

Snow bounced up and down on her toes, her breath forming a cold cloud. When Jamie opened the door she practically ran inside.

“Don't take off your shoes.” He stopped her as she bent down. “Just come downstairs, and be fucking quiet.”

Lance's family had space on both the first, and basement floor. Thankfully the stairs were just inside the door that lead from the communal entrance hall.

“What are you doing here?” Jamie asked, closing the basement door. “It's seven thirty in the fucking morning. You're lucky I was awake.”

“I knew you would be.” Snow sat on the ground as she unlaced her boots. “Somehow I knew.”

Their eyes met and there was a long moment of silence.

“What are we going to do, Jamie?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I don't know. Go to that apartment, I guess. I still remember the number. You guys don't have to come if you don't want to.”

“Of course we're going to come.” Snow walked over to Lance's bedroom. She leaned on the frame, looking in.

“Should I text Yamir?” she asked, her voice a little quieter.

“Sure.”

Jamie flopped down on the couch, reaching for the lamp. Light flooded the room.

“Should I wake him up?”

“Not yet.” Jamie pushed himself slowly, painfully, into an upright position. “It is really fucking early.”

Snow sat down next to him. “So.” She dragged out the word, looking at him intently. “You with a mutation. Who would have thought? You do have a mutation, right?”

“I don't know.”

Jamie was exhausted, but that hadn't seemed to help when he'd awoke sweating on the floor of Lance's bedroom. As tired as he was, he wasn't going to get back to sleep. All the same, he tucked his knees up to his chest, leaning into the cushions.