Brave Fear (boyxboy)

Chapter 22

Zane broke into a house.

It was not his finest moment, but it was necessary.

He and Mallory had set off in the morning to scout out the city, but they soon realized they were getting nowhere in the clothes they were wearing. Everyone on the streets was wearing the traditional attire of New Vancouver, drab gray suits and navy ties. Zane and Mallory stood out, him in a beige shirt and cargo pants, her in a loose-fitting shirt and jeans.

So Zane broke into a house. He took a garbage can from an empty alley, found a deserted house, its occupants gone to their jobs, and smashed a window. As the glass shattered, he chuckled. This is the first crime committed in New Vancouver in so many years, he thought, amused.

After they'd crawled through the window and set foot on the polished hardwood floor, Mallory looked around and shook her head viciously. "What is wrong with these people, they're so compulsively neat?" She seemed to realize what she'd said and glanced embarrassingly in his direction. "Sorry."

"No harm done," he answered, blushing slightly. He didn't know if he wanted to be associated with New Vancouver anymore. It had certainly proven not to be the perfect place Zane remembered. And from the militarism they saw on the streets, it was slightly unsettling.

The layout of the house was so achingly familiar Zane propped himself against the sofa and took a deep breath. Aside from a few small mementos, it was the exact size and shape of his own house. The furniture was arranged in the same patterns, the windows in exactly the same spots.

After several steadying breaths and a weird look from Mallory, he straightened up and pointed to a door at the far end. "That's the bedroom,"

She looked unimpressed. "Okay,"

He sighed. "That's where they keep the clothes," he said, inclining his head slightly.

"Oh." She swung open the door and stalked over to the closet. She pulled out a gray suit and blue tie for each of them, and threw the outfit at Zane. "Change," she ordered, heading for the connected bathroom.

Zane gave the familiar tan v-neck and cargo pants a last, lingering look before shucking them off. He tossed them on the large bed nearby and tugged on the dress pants. As he buttoned them up, Mallory strode out, decked out in a New Vancouver-regulated outfit.

"Nice abs," she said, smiling. Her curly black hair was pulled back in a ponytail that screamed I mean business. She had taken out her nose piercing, a defining characteristic of Mallory Sanchez. She looked constricted by the tie, constantly tugging at it, loosening its grip around her throat.

He rolled his eyes at her, throwing the undershirt on, and then the suit overtop. She pulled shoes from a chest at the end of the bed as he threw the tie around his neck, knotting it expertly from years of experience and muscle memory. Somehow, he understood Mallory's desire to rip the tie from her throat. It seemed to tighten around him, cutting off his breath, forcing him into submission.

He exhaled, imagining his worries dispersing with the air he'd released. The tie seemed to loosen. He closed his eyes, telling himself this was for a reason, not because his desire to return to a predictable life had won out. This was for the good of himself as well as everyone he cared about. He was being both selfish and selfless.

Mallory tossed him a pair of shoes, polished black dress shoes, the same style he'd worn every day since he had turned ten. He slipped them on without further need of assurance from himself.

He needn't do anything else; they'd left their packs and weapons with the others, assuming no blood would be shed today.

Zane looked Mallory and himself over. They appeared to be normal New Vancouver citizens, heading out to their jobs for the day. They were part of the entity, the being, and would not be viewed otherwise. He nodded, pleased with the outcome of their breaking and entering.