Monday, January 20, 2014

The Prince and I - 12



We spent the rest of the afternoon just being lazy, something I for one rarely did. I probably wouldn’t have even then if I hadn’t wanted to probe a bit more into Connor’s life. Unfortunately he was very good at fending off my questions by asking ones of his own, mainly about the people we saw around the mall. You would have thought he was from another planet or something, as little as he seemed to know about things.

I was in the middle of explaining the difference in bikes, since we’d seen several passing by on the path, when he suddenly stiffened. I glanced around, wondering what had caught his attention. I didn’t see anyone out of the ordinary at first so I turned to ask him what was wrong. He wasn’t there. Just that fast he’d vanished.

“Shit and double shit,” I growled, jumping to my feet. I had to figure he’d headed down to the creek and was about to go in that direction when two men dashed across the busy street, coming in my direction. One of them was huge, probably six two or three and bulked. The other was smaller, slender and if the way he’d dodged the cars was any indication very agile. It was apparent they had their sights set on me and neither one looked happy.

I snagged my pack and took off running, playing ‘Slip-and-Slide’ down the bank to the creek, grabbing trees and bushes to keep from falling flat on my face or my ass. I could hear them behind me, one of them shouting something in a language I couldn’t understand. For damned sure it wasn’t Mexican or Italian, both of which I knew.

I figured I had one advantage over them, I knew the territory. Along here the creek zigzagged over rocks and between low brush and taller bushes. It was almost like being in the country, not the city. I crossed, heading for a thickly overgrown area where I knew there was a small cave in the embankment, carved out by the early spring flooding.

I was almost there when someone grabbed my wrist, pulling me down onto my knees. Before I could protest or fight a hand covered my mouth. I heard Connor whisper, “Be quiet and lie down.”

My adrenaline was pumping so strong I almost ignored him, fear of whoever those men were urging me to keep going. Then I heard them a few feet away. Whatever the one man was saying I’d have bet it wasn’t that they should give up the hunt, so I did as Connor said and flattened down under a large, overhanging bush, praying the branches didn’t move to show the men where we were.

I guess they didn’t because I heard them moving on, talking angrily to each other. Finally their voices disappeared. I was about to get up when Connor whispered against my ear not to move yet. I got why when a few minutes later I heard them returning, one on each side of the creek now. They weren’t talking and seemed to be trying to stay quiet but there was too much underbrush for them to be successful. I swear I stopped breathing when I saw a pair of shoes not more than a yard away from where we were scrunched together under the bush.

It took all my willpower not to gasp when the man came close enough to kick several times under the bush, one kick landing on my hip. If it had landed anywhere else he’d have know he hit flesh but I guess he must have thought my hip was a branch or a rock because he kept on going.

We waited until it turned dark, barely moving, not uttering a sound. I thanked whoever was watching over us that the river rats who lived along the creek didn’t come exploring to see what we were. I. Hate. Rats.

Finally we decided it was safe to move. As I inched out from under the bush I kept expecting hands to grab my shoulder and drag me out the rest of the way. None did.

Once we were safely back on the dark path, we both breathed deeply before I turned my glare on him. “Mind telling me what all that was about?”

“I suppose at this point I don’t have a choice.”

“Damned straight you don’t!” I was tempted to grip his arm so he wouldn’t run but reined in my temper. As calmly as I could I said, “Let’s find somewhere safer than here and you can tell all.”

“Is anywhere safe?”

“Define ‘safe’. I know a couple of spots where no one’s likely to find us and one’s not too far from here.”

All he said was, “Okay,” before following me down the path. When I headed up a ramp to leave it he balked but I told him he either came with me or he was on his own. We crossed the street to the mall’s large parking garage. It was well lit but if you play your cards right you can find the shadows. Ask any of the muggers who hang out there from time to time. We made our way through it and out the other side. I figured it was safe enough to cross First Ave. and make it to Second where I knew there was a building in the process of renovations and so half torn down. We made it there, crawling through a hole in the fence---well hidden behind an industrial-size dumpster---that a guy I knew had told me about.  

3 comments:

  1. I just found u and am really liking your work! :) loving the past stories as well. Looking forward to reading your books! :)

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    1. Thank you ever so much. Comments like yours make my day.

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  2. Finally some answers? Can't wait!

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