Shadow Fray

by Bradley Lloyd

  “You’d do that? After the glove and everything?”

  “Stop with the glove. You saved me. Why are you feeling guilty about it? Yes, I’d do that. And more than that. I owe you, Justin. Think of it that way, and let me make it up to you. First I’ll help you get out from under Scarecrow. That’s the main priority. You don’t have to be alone in this anymore.”

  Justin looked up. He was so weightless, he could probably float away into the cloudy sky. Somewhere nearby, he heard the buzzing of another drone. He’d still have to keep his feet on the ground. Be cautious. Wary.

  “How are we going to do it?” Justin asked.

  “I don’t know yet. Let me talk to Benz. But we’ll get rid of Scarecrow any way we have to.”

  Hale looked concerned. Serious. God, if anyone were to have his back, who better in the world than Black Jim? This man had exploded into his life like a bomb, and all the junk Justin had been carrying around with him was blown clear. He was free.

  “Thanks,” Justin said. The word was inadequate, but hopefully Hale understood.

  Justin looked in his eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time, if a hundred wasn’t nearly enough. And then Hale’s words made Justin smile. “I can’t tell you how good it feels not to be alone anymore,” he said. The drone got louder, and Hale motioned that they should head to the truck. “Time to go?”

  Justin nodded and walked with him, close by his side.

  Chapter 19

  HALE YAWNED, stretching as he stepped onto the broken pavement outside the rest stop. This time three other trucks were parked in the lot—the same ones that were here when he’d left just over an hour ago. God he was tired. If he hadn’t already been up for four hours, he might even be nervous. He’d put a lot of work into this plan, stopping both on the way home last night and on the way in this morning.

  Okay, maybe he was still a little nervous.

  Couldn’t beat the predawn view, though. He watched Justin walk around the truck, double-checking to make sure the trailer was locked. His friend was wearing the same gray hoodie as yesterday, but instead of jeans, he wore a pair of gray sweatpants that, while loose, draped his butt perfectly.

  Hale had opted for a similar outfit but in his typical black color. When Justin was done with the inspection, Hale started walking toward the woods. Justin fell into step next to him, close to his side. Justin seemed to be warming to him, though it kinda sucked that Hale would have to lead the way—he’d love to be looking from behind.

  “You talk to Benz last night?” Justin asked as they entered the shadowed area of the forest. There was just barely enough light to see, and Justin stepped a little closer to him.

  “Yeah, for a long time. Like I said, he’s more than willing to take you on.” Which was true, but Hale wasn’t going to mention how nervous it made Benz. “We haven’t worked out the problem of how. It’ll happen, though. Don’t worry.”

  It was rare for Brawlers to change handlers. As far as Hale knew, it happened only when the handler met an untimely end. The Brawler could try to hook up with a handler at the next Arena or wait to see if the bosses sent a new one. There was no clear-cut system and no guarantee. Justin’s popularity would work in his favor, but even if they paid Scarecrow off, it wouldn’t be easy to get Justin over to Benz. Something like that had never been done before.

  “What about the note? What did he say about how you found me?”

  “He said I’m an idiot for not telling him first. And he’s right. I am an idiot—a throw-caution-to-the-wind kind of guy. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, so why bother trying to think about stuff until after it’s happened? Live, then learn, that’s my motto.”

  “That’s a lot of sayings.”

  The kid could be little snarky after all. Hale liked that. He flashed Justin a grin. “Yeah, you and Benz are gonna get along fine. Meeting you is working out really well as far as I’m concerned, so he can call me an idiot, but I can’t imagine a better outcome than this right here.” Hale gestured between them and turned the wry grin into his most winning smile. The kind of smile he would use to get things. Justin returned his smile with half of one of his own, his teeth lighting up the dark.

  So damn handsome. Okay, Hale had to admit it at this point. He was trying to seduce the guy. And it felt good—it felt right. Justin needed to be seduced. He was giving Hale all of these subtle hints—the way he let himself be touched, the way he had leaned into his arm yesterday, the way he was blushing right now—not to mention the energy they shared when they fought. Hale knew something was there; he just needed to find a way to unlock it. To help the kid over his hang-ups.

  This was somewhat new for Hale as well, but he was happy to find he didn’t have any hang-ups. As a kid he’d been into guys. That didn’t go over so well on a religious compound. After he was discovered goofing around with boys—kid’s stuff, really—he’d been circumcised. As a reminder to live a pure life, they’d permanently scarred his dick.

  Since then, every time he’d fucked someone, he liked to think of his dick as his middle finger. Screw you, Mom and Dad. I’m going to put my cut cock wherever I damn well please, be it man, woman, or Uni.

  And fuck you too, God, while I’m at it.

  Janie was the last cisgender woman he’d slept with. After his wife, sleeping with other women didn’t seem right. To try it again would remind him too much of her. Or maybe he simply wasn’t interested in going that direction right now. What did it matter?

  Before and since he’d slept with plenty of Unis, as well as intersex or transgender prostitutes, Wilma being the most recent. He’d never been with a man like Justin, though. He’d never had the opportunity. Relationships between cisgender men weren’t spoken about openly, while the other relationships, particularly with Unis, were considered a necessity of the times.

  Hale was really just an opportunistic son of a bitch. He preferred prostitutes, and males weren’t offered at the places he frequented. Giving pleasure to someone else wasn’t a priority when you were a paying customer. Now, though, he couldn’t stop thinking about turning Justin’s body into a playground. Justin’s expressions and half smiles were always so guarded. What would his face look like if Hale were able to give him real pleasure?

  He began to tent his sweatpants. Good thing it was dark, but he needed to slow his roll. Honestly he wasn’t doing all of this simply to get into Justin’s pants. He didn’t want to hurt the kid or force him to do anything he didn’t want to. But he really wanted Justin to want to. As long as his motives were pure, he supposed he could press on.

  He’d even settle for motives that were 90 percent pure. Actually, more like 50 percent was okay. Half and half was very reasonable. And 50 percent higher than his motives usually were. So that was good.

  “So what did Benz say about who’s behind this? Who gave you the note?” Justin asked. Hale straightened. That’s right—they’d been talking about Benz. God, it was easy to get distracted by Justin.

  “Oh, that. He honestly didn’t know. He thought the most likely candidate was his friend, but that’s because she was the only known candidate. It could also be someone within the system acting covertly for their own interests. He said we’d probably never find out. He’s not going to investigate. He said it would be ‘foolhardy.’ That’s his fancy way of saying dumb.”

  Justin seemed to agree. “So we just move on, then?”

  “Pretty much. We take what we’re given and look the other way.” At those words, Hale pulled to a stop. They were here.

  It was a bit brighter in the open area before them. Even though it was cool out, Hale was sweating slightly. Here goes nothing. “And here we are,” he said, gesturing to the clearing in front of them.

  “You’ve done some work here. When did you do that?” Justin asked, looking surprised and impressed. Hale smiled widely.

  “Last night and early this morning. This area had smaller stuff growing. It was easy to cut down. I moved a few fallen logs, cleared out the space a litt
le. And then over here—come look.”

  He led Justin to an area adjacent to the clearing, near a fallen log.

  “Check this out,” Hale said. This was the part he was proudest of and the part that had taken him the longest. He bent down and lifted. It looked like he was lifting part of the forest floor into the air. Even in the dawn’s light, his work was holding up.

  He had used the log as well as a natural dip in the terrain to hollow out a small area. He’d created a sort of crevasse. Over the crevasse, he’d placed a piece of supported canvas. On top of the canvas he’d fixed leaves, twigs, and all other manner of debris. It now acted as a hidden trap door. Hunters would call it a blind. The whole thing was large enough for two people to lay down, completely hidden from sight.

  “Wow,” Justin exclaimed. “I didn’t even see that.”

  “I’m good, yeah? Made plenty when I was a kid. So I figure we just have to be aware of our surroundings. We can hear the drones coming. When we do, we hide out for a couple minutes so we aren’t caught fighting out in the open. With the cover of the trees, we should have enough warning. We saw two yesterday and neither of them flew directly overhead. This should be safe enough. What do you think?”

  “I think it’ll work,” said Justin, sounding impressed. “At least for now. Maybe we can find another place or two so we can switch it up, a warehouse or something, but I think this is a good start.”

  “Awesome. I’m glad you approve.” Hale put the canvas back into place on the forest floor where it blended in seamlessly. “Now, are you ready to start?”

  “Of course,” Justin said, smiling more than halfway and taking his hands out of his pockets. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Some basic disarming techniques. I had Benz talk me through a few and did a little research myself. I can’t practice with him because he has a broken hand—”

  “Really? How’d that happen?”

  “He needs better friends.”

  “Aren’t you his friend?”

  “More like his brother, but he could still do better than me. Probably best for you to keep that in mind too.” There—Hale had given Justin fair warning, relieving himself of all due responsibility for anything that might happen from this point forward.

  “I’ll take my chances,” Justin said, looking into Hale’s eyes, his expression starting to shift into the steely look of a challenge.

  And Hale was getting aroused. It was difficult to hide a semistiff cock in sweatpants. At this rate he was going to have to employ a technique he hadn’t needed since he was a kid and think about his schoolteacher back on the farm. She was a real dick-shrinker. Maybe then he’d be able to keep his mind on more immediate goals. Like weapons. And fighting.

  “We have to assume the time is coming when we’ll face a handheld weapon,” Hale said, rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck to warm up. All the stuff to keep the focus above the waist. “Handlers are going to be checking knuckles and gloves for anything hidden, based on what’s already happened. Benz thinks the natural progression is going to be to hide stuff around the Arena beforehand.”

  Justin nodded. “Can we practice some of the holds you used on me, like when you took off the glove? I was going easy on you until it came off, but I was still impressed.”

  Hale found himself smiling, from the compliment and the challenge. “Holds. Yeah, of course. Let me show you this, and afterwards we can do whatever you want.” Cling to each other and roll around on the forest floor? Maybe they should skip knife practice….

  No—need to focus. God, he was distracted. Although, he could try to turn the tables and distract Justin. Nothing wrong with harmless fun, right? He couldn’t help a smile, and bent down quickly to hide it, eyes on the forest floor. He searched the ground and then picked up a rather small but thick piece of wood as a stand-in for a blade. He flipped it to Justin, who had to think fast to catch it. “Here. Hold my wood,” said Hale, no longer trying to hide the smirk.

  While he didn’t typically go for innuendos that could be matched by a twelve-year-old, it certainly had the desired effect, as Justin’s expression lost its challenge in favor of blushing embarrassment. Hale laughed. “Kid, you’re too easy to take off your game. And you think you went easy on me that night?” Hale stepped into Justin’s space, looking into those scared brown eyes.

  Suddenly he felt the poke of wood under his chin and was forced to look up—sharply—at Justin. He’d gotten sucked into those eyes and hadn’t been looking down at all. Whoops.

  “Do a man a favor,” Justin said, eyes flashing. “Don’t call a man a kid, especially when you’re throwing your wood in his face. It’s weird.”

  Hale felt the color draining from his face. Ouch. But okay—fair enough.

  Justin backed away, holding the stick in front of him like it was a blade. “Now, what game are we playing here?” The man-boy in front of him smiled as though he had the upper hand. Which, Hale had to admit, he kind of did. “You try to grab my wood before I can poke you with it?”

  Hale lunged forward, extending both of his hands. In one fluid motion that looked like a clap, he blocked the inside of Justin’s wrist with one open palm, and with the other open palm hit the back of Justin’s knuckles where he was gripping the stick. The piece of wood went sailing ten feet through the air before landing on the forest floor.

  Justin gaped at Hale.

  “You lose,” said Hale, mustering all the bravado he had into those two little words.

  “How’d you do that?”

  “Quickly.”

  Justin scowled at him. Hale retrieved their “blade” and put it back into Justin’s hand. “Keep that pointed at me, and I’ll slow it down for you,” said Hale. He showed Justin how blocking the inside of the wrist held the arm stationary. As Hale’s other hand forced Justin’s grip to curl inward, his fingers had no choice but to begin to open.

  “You can’t keep a closed fist when your wrist is forced inward,” Hale explained. “Your fingers naturally start to extend, and your grip is lost. The knife comes flying out.”

  Justin nodded. “I’m impressed. I’ve disarmed guys before but never like that and never that easily. Can we try it again?”

  Hale and Justin practiced, each taking turns. They held their makeshift blade at different heights so they could get used to adjusting their angle of attack. If the knife was held high, you had to attack from below. If it was held low, you had to come down from above. The most difficult was when the knife was held right in the middle of the body, and it was a toss-up whether you’d go at it from above or below. It took Hale some trial and error to figure out what worked the smoothest.

  He lost track of time. Erotic thoughts were pushed aside—more or less. He wasn’t used to this level of intensity and focus. Breathing deeply, he enjoyed the moment of self-awareness. He was calm. At peace. He flashed his smile at the kid. “Hey, Justin?”

  “Yeah?” Justin looked rather grounded himself. His smile was open and unguarded.

  “If I call you kid again, you can smack me upside the head.”

  Justin laughed. “Good to know, but I’ll take it easy on you, at least at first. I know it’s hard in your old age to develop new patterns of behavior.”

  “Bastard!” Hale grabbed him and put him in a playful headlock, but really it was more of a half hug. He couldn’t explain this sense of closeness he was feeling, but he loved it. Justin’s ass grazed his crotch as they wrestled playfully. Hale’s body crackled with electricity, all of his senses becoming hyperaware. Pinpricks played across his skin. He became cognizant of their hard breathing and the different cadence between Justin’s breaths and his own. Above them a single bird chirped. He could feel splashes of brightening sunlight on his skin, and the colors around him were vibrant and alive.

  The moment was shattered by a sound. He heard a buzzing in the distance. He froze.

  “Drone,” he said, grabbing Justin’s hand. He felt slightly panicked, which didn’t make any sense since
they weren’t in any immediate danger. Maybe it had just been a surprise, spoiling whatever had been about to happen. Which was what, exactly?

  He led Justin to the blind and lifted up the canvas, ushering him in. Hale got in as well, crouching down and extending his body to lie down while he lowered the lid over them. Bits of leaves and dirt fell into his face, and he shut his eyes. He pressed air out of pursed lips to get rid of any dirt that had fallen near his mouth and reached up to brush off his face. Apparently, Justin had the same idea, because they bumped arms. He opened his eyes.

  He and Justin were face-to-face, lying on their sides without much room in the small space to maneuver. Hale’s heart thumped so loudly he expected to hear it in the moment of silence that followed, like the world was on pause.

  The kid—Justin—looked a little afraid in the dim light. Likely Hale looked the same, because his insides felt like mush. A little more carefully, he reached up and brushed off his face, and then reached over and did the same for Justin. “Close your eyes,” he said. “There’s some right by your eye.”

  Hale let his hand linger on Justin’s face, his thumb rubbing against Justin’s cheek.

  Justin opened his eyes and looked at him. Hale saw desire, no mistaking it. But he also saw fear.

  Hale looked down to Justin’s mouth and noticed how full his lower lip was. He noticed a small speck of dirt and moved to stroke it away with his thumb.

  Old gnarled schoolteacher. Old gnarled schoolteacher. What was her name again? Oh, fuck it.

  This was the moment. Justin’s breath was hot on his cheek. With it came a pleasant spicy scent like clove, and the lingering heat of sweat. They were so close they were breathing the same air.

  Hale’s desire was as palpable as the blood pulsing through his veins. He leaned in closer, staring at that lip. The anticipation was killing him. He licked his own lips, moistening them, opening them slightly, inching closer. Slowly.