Xal was supposed to be acting to impress the dude to secure this job, but his anger bursts were getting the best of him. He had somewhat calmed down while driving. Water had stopped dripping, the car was quiet, except for the curses he muttered under his breath whenever someone drove stupidly in front of him.
As time passed, he realized they were moving past the city scrapes. The roads got narrower, dustier, and the air thicker with burnt garbage. They were gradually heading into an underdeveloped area.
Broken houses barely holding up, kids wearing torn clothes, eyes glued to the unfamiliar vehicle in the area, weren't his everyday sight.
It made him wonder how they survived in these harsh conditions.
They reached a small opening that resembled a playground. A rusted swing that no one could play stood in the corner next to the half-sunk tires to the ground. When the car stopped, Kian unbuckled, turned, and grabbed an envelope from the back seat.
"Stay here," he said before stepping out.
Xal watched through the windshield and the side mirrors, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, keeping an eye out. A woman showed up not long after, wearing a mask and a hat. She took the envelope from Kian, said something that looked like a thank you, then turned and disappeared the way she came.
Kian took a few steps toward the car. That's when Xal noticed a few men coming from the alley behind, bats and poles in hand, surrounding Kian fast.
"Shit." He jumped out of the car and ran.
He saw Kian looking at him, puzzled, still unaware of the men behind him, closing towards him.
"Duck!" He yelled, and thank fuck Kian listened, or that swing of the bat would have cracked his head open. Letting his instincts take over, Xal punched the first one who swung that bat and kicked another.
He grabbed a bat from the third guy and brought it sideways hard into his ribs. The sound of wood against bone was dull and heavy. He didn't stop, but he did hold back. Just enough to keep them down. He swung, blocked, and shoved, keeping Kian close behind him.
Another guy rushed in. Xal hit him on the wrist, making him drop the bat. Swiftly grabbing it, he tossed it toward Kian.
"Use it!"
Xal had done a few stupid things in his life, but nothing was remotely closer to giving a weapon to a guy who had the combat skills of a dead snail.
The idiot almost hit both of them in one swing. He avoided it barely but stumbled right towards the thugs. The distraction gave them a clear opening. A pole hit Xal's side, and another clipped his shoulder.
Pain shot through him, sharp and hot. That was it. His muscle memory took the lead. By the time he came back to his senses, most of them were down, and the rest were running.
Kian walked over, gave him a sheepish thumbs up, dropped the bat, and headed to the car like they had just finished grocery shopping.
"You ungrateful fuck!" Xal yelled after him. His voice came out hoarse, raw from holding back and exhausting himself from fighting.
He couldn't remember cursing this much in a single day before.