014 A Girl is a Gun
chapter fourteen / a girl is a gun
When one is prey on the wrong side of the island, one must avoid becoming dinner by abiding the following rules.
1. Identify your predator
2. Avoid your predator
3. Survive the inevitable encounter
Like most rules set for Ilyshah Tūrei, she followed only one if that. It wasn't unlike her to fail at identifying or avoiding her predator, it's what landed her in the Outerbanks to begin with. Survival on the other hand called to her like a second nature, embedded into her blood like traumatic code—and Rafe Cameron posited himself at the top of the food chain, ready to sink his teeth and devour her whole.
He rested his left arm on the headrest of Toppers seat, focusing his animalistic sights on her as the locks on the doors clicked. "You see Ilyshah, we have eyes and ears allll over this island. Right Top?"
"All over."
"Right, and you wanna know what those eyes and ears have been telling us about you?" He probed as Ilyshah squirmed in her seat, grimacing when she brushed against Kelce. "They say you've been hanging around with these . . . these little Pogues."
She narrowed her eyes sharpened with malice at him. "What's it to you, Rafe? Ever heard of something called freedom of association?"
He chuckled, almost maniacally with blown pupils as she focused her icy stare on him. "No shit, this is America and all. But, you know . . . you forfeit said freedom when those same Pogues you freely associate with hold guns to our heads and sink our goddamn boats. Hearing me now?"
Deny, deny, deny.
"The hell are you talking about? What boat?"
"My boat! My fucking boat Lysh!" Topper bellowed from the wheel, glaring at her from the rear view mirror. "You know what, I've been nothing but nice to you, or have you forgotten that letter of recommendation from my pops? Or what do you think Sarah will think after I tell her you've been snaking around with the guys who pointed a gun to my head and poached her families gear?"
Kelce nudged her with his elbow. "Yeah Ilyshah, you're too good and clean for those Pogues, so what are you doing with them?"
"I don't need to answer shit to any of you."
"Suit yourself," Rafe tapped on the window sill as they parked in front of Heyward's Seafood, "maybe if we show you, you'll get it."
Pope Heyward emerged from the shop to clean off tables, still draped in the unbuttoned blue and white striped shirt from that morning. She concealed her distress under a straight face as her heart drummed in her chest. Were they going to jump him again right here? Surely not, Heyward was just as intimidating of a presence as Uncle Kahu. He'd beat the shit out of them, and she would pay to watch.
She knew Pope couldn't see her through the veiled back door windows, but when he nonchalantly surveyed his surroundings and spotted the jeep as Topper glared daggers into him and Rafe puckered his lips tauntingly—an uneasiness held her rigid as the panic surging through him sent him retreating to the safe confines of the shop.
Rafe sniggered, shaking his head to himself. "See sweetheart, now does that look like the face of the innocent to you?"
She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded profusely, "convincing evidence there Rafe, I'd love to see that hold up in a courtroom—film it, by any chance?"
"Luckily, we're not above being our own judge, jury and executioner when the law lets us down."
Like a short fuse, Topper revved his jeep down the dirt tracked back roads as she braced herself against the car seat. Rafe broke out into a carnal fit of laughter and knocked his fist on the headrest, high on his daily fix of adrenaline and god knows what unnatural substances coursed through his veins that hour.
She desperately wanted to close her eyes and astral project (not like she knew how yet) but she couldn't afford the fortune expense of showing weakness. Kelce shot her a fleeting look of concern, and with a blunt impact to the back of her head as Topper brought the vehicle to a halting screech—she panned the surroundings of the park they pulled up to.
Families made their way through the carpark; picnic chairs, fleece blankets and eskies carried in tow and kids squealing as they swung from their parents arms. The war zone had now spilled out across all sides of the island, and all Ilyshah could do was watch it implode from the corner she was backed into like a rabid animal waiting to be put down.
"Last chance to tell us what happened."
She leaned back against the leather seat, licking her top teeth meddled with a huff in a twisted blend of amused shock. "If any of you actually had a little thing called evidence that Pope sunk your boat, you wouldn't be mad dogging him or piling onto me—you'd be taking your theory to the cops."
She continued in an acidic tone, unbuckling her seat belt. "As for who I hang out with, it's none of anyone's business. So, am I free to go now?" She quirked up her eyebrows as their speech fell to a dead rest and Topper pressed a button to unlock the doors, "perfect, blardy psychos," she added as she hopped out of the jeep, slamming the door behind her before storming off with no clear destination in mind until she sought out Spencer's red jaguar.
"Spoken like a true pre-law student," Rafe chuckled, cocking his jaw as he kept his eyes zeroed in on her back.
"We all heard that, right? She knows."
Spencer slid off the hood of his car, outstretching both his arms. "Hey, I was waiting for you at your place. I didn't realise Rafe and Top were driving you," frowning softly upon observing her withdrawn state, "did something happen?"
Deny, deny, deny.
"Nothing happened," she quavered, blinking away the tears threatening to surface, "come on, let's go save a spot before all the good ones are gone."
Spencer warily trailed his gaze over her before resting his free hand on the small of her back as she took after that of a deer in the headlights, leading her to the kiosk where they fetched two cans of san pellegrino limonata and a pretzel to share. A dip in the tension came as they passed the mammoth sized screen and wove around the maze of picnic rugs and chairs when proclaimed his movie will be showing at next years OBX summer movies. It brought a weak smile to her face, a short lived moment of shared tenderness that was snuffed out in a matter of seconds by Rafe, Topper and Kelce waiting on them at their saved spot.
"Hope you don't mind fish, there was nowhere else and hey," Rafe wore a deceptive grin as he gestured to the empty fold up chairs next to them. "We saved you two the best seats."
She saw means for a tantrum, she wanted to yank the picnic blanket out from under him and drag it a hundred feet away if she could, but her throat closed up and sweet Spencer, cordial Spencer, cowardly Spencer just had to thank him and help her sit down as if she were some doll made of porcelain with cracks on the surface.
Kelce spoke up as if the car ride never happened. "Seen your cousin, Lysh?" then darted to where she motioned her head towards Lani sat with her self titled pussy posse, as he called out for her she sent a scowl and a middle finger before returning to the conversation with her bottle blonde friend Jada.
"Uh oh, what'd you do now Kelce? Blow off watching another episode of The Bachelor with her?" Rafe taunted as Ilyshah bit on her tongue until a metallic taste lingered there.
An unquenched thirst saw him stalk over for more prey as he approached Kiara Carrera at the drinks stand, when Ilyshah saw them interact from a distance she scanned the crowd in desperation, her gaze landing on the back of JJ's grey sweatshirt printed with FastArch five rows down as he bumped his knee up and down and gnawed on his fingernail. A few blankets across, Tino eyed her from where he gathered with the kapa haka group and tilted his head JJ's way wearing a suggestive smirk as she shook her head at him with a frown.
"He's hot too," he mouthed to her, pointing to Spencer with a thumbs up to match his boyish grin as she continued to shake her head in disappointment.
Spencer whispered in her ear, "whose that?"
"My cousin Tino," she reclined back, quirking an eyebrow, "he says you're hot."
He raised the can of mai tai Topper gave him to cover his flushed cheeks, "he's got good taste," he mumbled into the lip as she tartly squinted her eyes in curiosity.
On his return from the drink stand, Rafe bent down to murmur in Spencer's ear as he stiffened and waved him away, sending her a faint smile from the side that gave her virtually no comfort as Pope sharply twisted in his seat to face them, only for JJ to reel him back in by his hat after meeting her gaze momentarily. Bile rose to the back of her throat and she thought how much of a courtesy it would be for a UFO to beam her up from this sick, strange bubble of the world she found herself in.
Darkness shrouded the parkland by the marsh as lanterns suspended under the willow tree and the theatre screen illuminated the shadows. The more engrossed everyone became in the movie rolling, the more Ilyshah could ward off the stress penetrating her diminished layer of golden light as Spencer offered up his packet of sour patch kids. But some disasters, they happen in places hailed as paradise on earth when the day is picturesque, when everyone is swaddled into a false sense of security with no sirens calling.
JJ's red trucker hat propped up amongst the crowd in plain sight as he ventured his way around the park with Pope. Turning to her left, she found Rafe's eyes already feasting on them like a lion in tall grass waiting for his opportunity to pounce. He subtly nudged the three boys to rise from their chairs and follow him like his very own toy soldiers, rolling his eyes at Spencer who soberly shook his head to wordlessly signal he was staying behind with her.
Eyes blinking at the rate of a point and shoot camera as gunshots sounded from the screen, she felt every single bullet fired as if she were in front of the barrel. She couldn't stand idly by like some depraved bystander, not when Kiara ducked below the screen to scamper through the crowd after glancing urgently at her—and afterall, there are worse things for a teenage girl to do.
Spencer grabbed ahold of her hand as she abruptly lifted herself off the chair, "Lysh, leave it," he whispered harshly.
She paused to squeeze her eyes shut, "fuck this," she muttered under her breath, tearing out of his grasp and aimlessly trampling across the families as they glowered at her obtruding, picking up the pace in a sprint down the empty clearing.
Truth is, the glory of war and heroism is swallowed up by the cruel and brutal horrors of reality. Kings started wars when they felt insulted, men fought wars for expanded territory, for riches, for a name for themselves. The suffering is painted as beautiful, as a blood soaked petal is doused in perfume.
It's JJ Maybank caged within the arms of Kelce as Rafe Cameron struck blow after blow with his bloodied knuckles carved of stone, it's Pope Heyward held in a headlock by Topper as he growled through gritted teeth for his holy penance. It's Kiara Carrera crawling on her hands and knees to the backpack, ruminating on the outline of the pistol and dropping it for a zippo lighter.
It's her, falling into the falsehood glory with that pistol in her grip as the napalm of her touch trembled.
"Let them go, Rafe!" Ilyshah screamed, her terrified voice breaking in their ears as every one of them widened their eyes at her.
Rafe's gaze melted into a cannibalistic picture of red as he straightened to face her, veins pulsating in his neck and eyes lit up like a pyre. "You even know how to use that, princess?"
She moved her finger over the side of the trigger, turning the safety off with a click. "Don't fucking try me. . . Let them go," she warned through gnarled teeth, "I said let them go!"
"Alright! Alright!" He cried back, arms surrendered to the night sky, she then aimed toward Topper before he dropped Pope to the ground as he coughed and spluttered, JJ falling to his knees in a like state.
Flames engulfed the theatre screen before them as the film faded into a distorted blaze of images, setting everyone at the park into a frenzy of blood curdling screams as they fled the fiery scene. An acrid smoke spread through the air and into their lungs, and through the haze she saw panic set into the lines of Spencer's face as he sent his gaze between the gun in her grips to her, stumbling backwards when Rafe harshly pulled his back into his chest and swept him away.
"Let's go, Kelce!" Rafe snarled through gritted teeth, carrying his fallen toy solider and a shell shocked Spencer.
Kelce shoved a finger in her face, "I'm telling Lani—you're a fucking traitor, Lysh!" he threatened abrasively before following behind the three boys.
Standing paralysed off the deep end, the gun now lowered to the ground as she took in rapid, sharp breaths, JJ glanced urgently at her, eyes wide and blood dripping from his bottom lip. He saw the colour drained from her face and gently ran his calloused hands over hers, slowly pulling the gun that didn't belong in her silkened grasp and clicking the safety off before shoving it into his waistband.
He ghosted his hand over the side of her neck, pulling her into his chest as he whispered into her hair. "Holy shit Ilyshah, why'd you do that?"
Before any of her family could make their return from the parkland, she raced back to the house with JJ close to her side as he faded in and out of full consciousness. The two stealthily edged around the mattress lined floor of the living room from the back door and up the stairs, tip toeing past the study as Uncle Kahu and Aunt Claire's low chatter hummed off the walls.
Treat the injured cowboy, then get the fuck out before Lani could eat her alive.
He tilted his head back to rest against the mirror as he perched himself on the stone bench in her ensuite, fiddling with the various tinctures of skincare and nail varnish cluttering the space to keep his mind busy as she rattled through the shelves and drawers. Heavenly sixteen facial oil, cocoa butter, saffron nail polish.
"Got it," she whispered to herself before she carried over a basket of first aid supplies and settled it into the sink, "you ready?"
He squinted his eyes, "I thought you were gonna be a lawyer, not a nurse."
"You're not the first boy I've had to patch up," she commented, relaxing her face after he cocked his eyebrows at her. "I have brothers who play rugby, they'd get into a biffo or two," she gave a huff as she soaked a cotton pad in rubbing alcohol, "never had to break up one with a gun though. . ."
He hummed in a gravel, eyes fluttered shut when she began to pat his open wounds with a feather touch. "You looked like you knew your way around one though."
"Alas, living here means I have to," she responded gravely—he stared at her plump lips and the beauty mark dotted right above them unflinchingly despite the grim subject matter as if it were stitching him together. "Are you good, cowboy? This must hurt."
"I'm used to it."
"Sucker for punishment, huh?" She brushed over the feline-like scratches bearing his neck as he pressed his lids closed once more to picture her lips grazing the skin in lieu of the cotton and stifled a low groan.
"Something like that."
Ilyshah carefully lifted his jumper, revealing the purple bruises blossomed across his torso and twisted the lid off a jar from the kit, smearing on a generous amount of the waxy substance it contained as his stomach flexed under her touch. She didn't looked phased by it one bit as she dabbed the same ointment on the grazes and small cuts bejewelled across his face with parted lips in concentration as she avoided his jaded gaze. He didn't know whether it was the concussion, the dose of coconut and lemon laced breath wafting in the air, her lulling touch or every single one of them combined but he could just about pass out from being under the addictive influence of a love sickness.
"What's that? It smells. . . kooky."
She broke out into a low giggle, "it's manuka, fresh by the way—I bruise like an apple if you couldn't already tell so dad knows to send me jars of the stuff. . . aaand, we're done," she smacked her lips, bringing up her hand to curl at his temple, "now, repeat after me—nine nice night nurses nursing nicely."
"Nine night . . . nine nicely," he drawled, his weak grip wrapping around her wrist as the words uncontrollably tumbled out from his lips in a indiscernible mumble, "please just kiss me."
She sucked the air through her crooked teeth, "yeah, you're out of it—I'm gonna get you some water."
THUD! THUD!
"I know you're in there, Lysh!" Lani shouted from the other side of her locked bedroom door as she widened her eyes and laid a finger on his cracked lips. "Open the door!"
She softly shut JJ in the ensuite, breathing deeply before unlocking the door to her bedroom as Lani shoved past her. "One, what the fuck are you doing with a gun? Two, why the fuck were you pointing it at my boyfriend?"
"Can you lower your voice? I can explain."
She laughed maniacally in disbelief, "explain that you pulled a gun on my boyfriend, are you fucking forreal?" her eyes pivoted to the canvas bag dumped on the floor and darted them back to meet hers as she cornered her in, "this is all JJ and that bitch Kie's influence. . . well, let me tell you something about JJ—he's trash, he's nothing, just like his deadbeat dad, you wanna go slum it up with him be my guest but leave Kelce out of it."
"He's my friend and they almost killed them!"
"He's not your friend, Lysh! Let me guess, he's the first one to give you the fucking attention you so desperately seek, classic fuckboy move—you are a lot of things, I just didn't think you were stupid too."
The raw bite of Ilyshah's palm snapped against her rouge tinted cheek and saw a pool of red pour out between the two Tūrei girls when Lani retaliated with a fist threaded in her dishevelled tresses as she shoved her back against the dressing table. Ornaments and bottles of perfume smashed on the floorboards below. Angels share, gone. Soleil Blanc, smashed to pieces. Gentle Fluidity, lost in the void. Shards of glass punctured her ashy knees as they launched at each other into a ballistic tackle too undignified for their residence and social standing yet fitting to their tainted history. Then, a pained cry from Lani as her jaw clipped on the simmered glass knobs of her dresser.
Aunt Claire rushed into the room, prying herself in between their claws as she separated them. "Stop, the pair of you! What's going on?"
Lani wiped her bloodied top lip with her forearm, still wheezing as she leaned in closer to her face. "I still don't know why your parents sent you here, but I can guess why now!"
"Lans!" Claire reprovingly called out, her gaze trailing up and down Ilyshah in awe before setting off to chase her daughter down the hallway.
Ilyshah pressed her forehead against the SZA 'CTRL' poster tacked to the door as she turned the lock and crawled inside her numbed soul. Sweet toothed Ilyshah, never puts a foot wrong Ilyshah, bends until she breaks then inwardly screams bloody murder Ilyshah. From full moon to the new, the island saw an Ilyshah reborn into a creature she wouldn't recognise in the reflection even with 2020 vision.
A hand softly ghosted along the curvature of her spine as she gasped a sniffle upon turning around to face JJ, "oh god, you were—not meant to hear all of that . . . I'm so sorry," she swallowed her tears and rattled her head side to side as he clenched his jaw while casting a look to her bedroom door before she gently pushed past him to grab their bags. "We should go."
"Where?"
"Anywhere but here."
Whale Rider ━━ JJ Maybank
Chapter Fourteen, A Girl is a Gun
Outerbanks S1 ━━ Ep. 4 Spy Games.
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