Rainy Days

Chapter Eighty-Two: Bro Even I Don't Know What's Happening and I Wrote It

[jordans house–one-o-two p.m., thursday]

"KNOCK KNOCK," Billie yelled. Jordan could just see her silver hair and the beginnings of a blue shirt, and his heart was racing in his chest as he glanced at the tub. It had been filled up with water so he could have easy access to a shit ton of it only a few hours ago, and he'd felt just fine then.

But now? He kind of wanted to vomit.

"Is anyone home?" Billie called out, and she continued advancing on her way slowly through the kitchen. She seemed unaware of Five, who was still crouched underneath the table, and she turned to face the opened back door. "Alright, get your asses in here!" she shouts, the sudden noise making Jordan flinch.

Outside, there is a loud boom! and screams of shock and surprise.

Jordan grins and exhales, trying to contain his excited laughter. Their stupid, DIY bombs had actually fucking worked.

Billie raced to where she could see what was happening and swore.

"Alright, those of you that didn't die like the dumbasses you are, get in here!"

Jordan stretched so that he could peer out the little window located above the toilet and had to resist letting out a few choice words. Despite the bomb, it appeared that about seventy other people—all of them apparently armed to the teeth—had survived.

Well. Okay. That could work out. (Probably.)

Jordan took a deep breath and ran a hand through his curls, tugging out a few knots. Billie was shouting something at them in a language Jordan was fairly certain was French, and when he glanced at her he was momentarily confused because she was now a brunette with high cheekbones, pale blue eyes, and slightly less pasty skin.

Then he had the epiphany that she could shape-shift and scolded himself for being so dumb.

Quietly, Jordan leaned around the door towards the kitchen and made eye contact with Five, winking. Five grinned and reached his hand behind him, pulling the string that was attached to the CD player.

Burnout by Green Day started blasting all throughout the house, seemingly coming from everywhere (it was actually just the genius of Five). Everyone outside, all seventy-one or so of them, froze in their steps and turned towards the house. A sadistic smile grew across Billie's face and she let out what was seemingly a crow of victory. As she did so, her face morphed back into what was her own, blue turning to red and brown to silver.

"Let's go get them!" Billie yelled, and she speed-walked towards the door. She vaguely reminded Jordan of moms at the mall. He chuckled to himself at the thought (God, imagine Billie with a fanny-pack as she speed-walked across a mall) and then wiggled his fingers, coaxing the water out of the tub and separating it into droplets. He made them run across the ceiling and into the kitchen, where Billie and most of her troops where starting to pile in.

"I know you're here, and I know that you know that I'm here too!" Billie yelled over the music. Jordan was surprised that she hadn't noticed Five underneath the table, knife clutched in his hand as he eyed the soldiers walking through the house with their guns raised. "So come on out and play!"

The only sound that continued was the Green Day CD and Billie's smile turned into a sneer.

"Upstairs, twenty of you. Thirty of you back outside, see if they're escaping. Five of you, stay with me. The rest of you, disperse as you wish." Billie barked out, and the small army she'd brought with her separated, moving quickly and quietly. Like ninjas.