Fuel

    A last quick swig from her bottle of ginger ale, and Blaise pulled the bandana up over her nose and mouth. Soaked in water the damp cloth clung to her mouth. Plug the bottle's opening with a bit of cloth. Chandler had a worn mining respirator pinned to his chest, the mouthpiece flopping lazily by his head. In case of the smoke. Inside a couple of thugs counted their cash. It took them a day to find their car. The idiots that stole it were a load easier, the used car dealer they'd dumped it on had practically served them up on a platter. Once her Thug did his burny thing. They'd got their car back. Drove out to this little shack in the middle of nowhere.

“I mean it's like we’re being rewarded. No bystanders, no collateral, nice and empty, dirt path so no wildfire. I went and doused some of the grass just in case.”

“Good things come to those who wait, Burnout.”

“If you say so, uh, wanna do the thing?”

He gave a thumbs up, and let his thumb start to burn.

“I’ll let you do the speech today.”

“Hey car-stealing jerk-wads. You stole our car. We got your little shack surrounded, we’re packing heat, and we’re gonna toast your buns if you don’t come out now, hands high, with our money. And if you’ve got any cigarettes-” Chandler just shook his head.

“Uh, leave them inside. Yeah.” she was going to need more gum. Not fair he got to stick to his incense.

The sound of a brief scramble, and then some dumb guy yelling back.

“Yeah right. What are you going to do. We saw that stupid hunk of junk you were cruising in. Think you’re hot stuff?”

Chandler was gritting his teeth. Wordplay always seemed to put him on edge.

“Get out now or by the moons we’re smoking you out.”

“I’m not hearing a warning shot. Makes me think you ain’t packing.” The blinds, someone was peeling them apart and watching.

“Light em up Burnout.”

She lit her little cocktail and chucked her bottle at the window. A clunk of glass on glass. She wasn’t really a thrower. A small fire made the bush smoke beneath the sill. Chandler was frowning. Ah well. That's what powers are for. Tricky. Up goes the bottle and then boom. Up and pop. The bottle heated up much faster than it should’ve and exploded. The window had a couple of neat holes where shards had forced their way through. Someone beyond was shouting. Might be glass. Shouldn’t’ve stood that close. But now she had an opening. Make the fire dance. Needs more fuel. Flames licked up from the steadily burning bush, and worked their way through the cracks and into the room beyond. Normal fire is stupid. Goes up. Hers is special. Like a liquid, fill up everywhere that can contain it. And then like a gas, and going everywhere else. And now Teecee was getting all worked up.

“FOOLS, PAY FOR YOUR INSOLENCE.” And then, with a cry of “BURNING GLORY!” he kicked his way through the door. Shouts and screams from inside. Blaise wished she hadn’t wasted her drink. A few gunshots in rapid succession made her jump.

“Oh mercy it burns!” Duh, she thought. That's what fire does.

“He’s on fire!” Yeah, this was like, his thing. Some guy ran out the back, trousers burning up and a plastic wallet of notes clutched to his chest. Blaise let him make it about, 20, 30 and then yanked him back. The fire on him was hers, and when she said jump it jumped. When she "Here boy!", it came back to her. Fun little tricks. Pyrokinesis. Phhhhhahahah. Nah that's for chumps. Combusiti-. Combusti...whatever. That! Was most definately where it was at.
“Shoulda put yourself out. Stop!” She slammed the panicky thievy jerk to the dirt. “DROP!” Back up and down till his clothes were out. “And I am on a roll!” A little leg kick and fist of triumph.

Chandler tossed a thief out the front door (well the frame), carrying another over his shoulder.

“Hey C, dealer said there was four!”

“He had a gun. Got a little too hot. Clip goes pop.”

Aw man, they'd been careful too. Once the unconscious one was slumped on the ground, the last thug standing just watched the flames.

“That’s my house you-”

A snap of Blaise’s fingers and it was snuffed out. The crackle ended with deafening suddenness. She turned around and pulled her best grin. Wait, she still had her little mask. She turned back around and tried again.

“You were saying?”

“Kinny Lunatic Witch!” If anything the man looked angrier. I mean come on. She put the fires out.

“C thugs, he’s sassing your dame.”

“Mind your manners.” He was just watching the smoke. "And you're not my dame."

“Yeah well whose-” Wow it was like growling back was a reflex or something with this guy. Did he just forget he’d been beaten up by a man who was on fire? Chandler shook a fist fulla hot burning flickering contempt at the carjacking numbnuts.

“Go in and take what you can. I’ll keep an eye on these fou- these three.”

They were trying to keep it clean. Honest. It’s just there's just like, so many ways you can go after people with fire, and then they go all panicky and oh wow they actually have more of that ginger and thistle stuff in the fridge. Still cold! The handle for the fridge was like glowing but...still cold! She grabbed the whole pack. Couple of sausages, barbecue that easy enough. The guy on the floor smelled like roasting pork with a cordite garnish, pistol in his hand busted where its ammo popped. Smouldering leather, warm glass, and a couple of roasted cigarettes. What a waste. Connoisseur of smoke now, that’s what she was. The beds were beyond saving but...mattress full of more plastic baggies. Some bills, some pills, another clip of bullets. She took the cash and left the rest.

“Ok, so like, you stole our ride. Don’t do that again. Cos you never know who might be inclined towards being all burny on your ashes. Don’t urn our ire.” Chandler’s eyes rolled like a car with the breaks off.

“I don’t think they care.”

“Whatevs.”

They drove off. Pebbles tossed into the windscreen and thrown up by the wheels. Blaise sipped her drink. Turned up the radio. Aw sick.
"What can I do, for, you?"