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Cicada Days
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i can feel something inside me say
[ *  *  *  * ]
Silence didn't last long.

Noises that were right in the kiddie pool levels of decibels were ringing the damn alarms in Ben's head. The arm he'd been tensing for action was suddenly braced against concrete. Cool against the skin, plastered right into it. Ben's adrenaline was almost stabbing him right in the Achilles' until he realized the noises weren't getting any closer. One step further, than another few. The corner of the wall was right the fuck there, but Ben couldn't bring himself to put even an inch of himself past it. Ben was being paranoid. A few inches on inches didn't make aiming a fucking gun any harder.

So. He had to make a call. Took him a second to fire the neurons at action-movie speeds, but he made the call. Went something like:

"Whoever you are. I get you're nervous, it's cool. Just, shit, just keep your head alright? Avoid people if you gotta but don't put a weapon their way and all." The syllables were clipped, truncated into hoarse murmurs. Barely passed for speech, but it'd do. Let every fucking kid wielding all those excellent manners Cochise had imparted on them run. Run from Ben, that was a-okay in his books. All they had to do was hear what he was saying. Hear what needed to be done. Hear it, put it right into their steps. Even as those steps carried them away as fast as steps could humanly go... '?' Addend all that bullshit with a fucking question mark.

Fucks sake. Ben got the sense that he'd need to be finding himself a weapon soon. If he doubled up, saw doubles, maybe he'd grab himself a nice rock to bash his own idiot brains out with. Had to let this other kid hightail it first though. Whoever it was could go cower uselessly somewhere else, keep themselves out of trouble.
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