Gunslingers

Baker sat down next to me at the cafeteria table. He had done really well on his first tour, and we planned on keeping him. Zach was the best spotter I'd ever had.

"So, Zacky, how'd you get your nickname?" I ask, popping a grape into my mouth.

He snorted on his Coke. "Vengeance? High school nickname. I was a chubby kid who liked to play guitar. People made fun of me, so I declared my revenged." Zach laughed. "Thus Vengeance was born."

Laughter sounded behind us; it was kind of maniacal. I turned just in time to see the fly boys, Fighting back an eye roll, I fully turned to look at these Navy pilots. Man, they looked like assholes. Ever since Top Gun, I'd had a deep-rooted hatred for those guys. They thought they were hot shit.

There were three of them. One was super, super tall. He was taller than me and very lanky. He had dark hair and blue eyes. Then there was the short shit. He had a mohawk which shocked me given the Navy guidelines. The last guy was about Zach's height with brown hair and eyes.

"So Vengeance stuck as your call sign?" the one with the mohawk asked.

Baker turned to look at him. "I didn't know you were part of this conversation, gnome."

I laughed. "Also, not call signs, fly boy."

The medium-sized one folded his arms across his chest. He glared at me. "Are you not a pilot?" There was such disdain in his voice.

"No, we're not. I'm done with this." I picked up my lunch and moved to another table. Zacky followed me. The fly boys followed us.

"Don't like pilots?" the lanky one asked. "You seem skiddish!" He sat down next to me and picked a grape off my plate.

I glared at him. "Do. Not. Touch. My. Food."

The lanky one picked up another grape and popped it into his mouth. "Pissy, pissy. I'm Jimmy, by the way. The mohawk is Johnny and the other is Brian. We've been pilots for four years. All went to the same high school. We've been in the Navy for six years." He took another one of my grapes.

I grabbed his wrist tightly. His eyes widened in surprise and pain. "You want to lose a hand, fucker?" I said it quietly, dangerously.

All of them looked at me in shock, even Baker. I hadn't realized how my tone had changed. Jimmy squirmed uncomfortably while I kept a tight grip on his wrist.

"Return his hand, asshole." Johnny nudged my shoulder.

Zacky nudged me as well. "Seriously, Sanders, let him go."

At this point, Jimmy was full on flailing the hand I wasn't holding on to. His had was starting to turn a faint shade of purple, but I grasped it a little harder. That's when he squealed.

"Don't touch my shit, fly boy," I said and released his hand. "Stay away from me, mother fucker."

"I've never fucked a mother." Jimmy smirked at me. "Yet."

Pursing my lips, I grabbed my plate and left. The guy was a fucking whack job. I just wanted to eat in peace.

Notes

So Matt and Zacky met the other guys. What to do y'all think?

Please rate and comment!!!

-- Heretic Blood