CHAPTER 2: RUN
812 Words
Valentina
For three seconds, I stood there like an i***t.
Then Mrs. Chen opened her door.
"Hello? Building power again?"
I moved toward the hallway, but another set of footsteps came from the stairs.
Her voice changed. "Who are you?"
A man answered too quietly for me to hear.
Her door shut.
Maybe she closed it herself. Maybe he did.
I didn't wait to find out.
My phone showed no signal. Not one bar. Whoever had cut the power had brought a jammer, because apparently kidnapping me required the full supervillain package.
The shadow under my door shifted.
I ran.
Luna fought like I was the criminal when I dragged her from under the sofa. One claw went through my sleeve and into my skin.
"Yes, hi, sorry, we're both having a terrible morning."
I shoved her inside my jacket and grabbed the emergency bag.
The fire escape window stuck.
Of course it did.
Behind me, the front door handle turned once.
Slowly.
Someone was picking the lock.
I hit the window with my shoulder. Nothing.
"Come on, you useless piece of shit."
The lock clicked behind me.
I hit the frame again. Pain shot down my arm. The window finally jumped open with a wooden crack loud enough to wake the dead.
Cold rain slapped me in the face.
I pushed Luna onto the landing, climbed out after her, and pulled the window down.
The emergency bag was still inside.
Money. Evidence. Fake ID.
My entire brilliant escape plan sitting on the bedroom floor like a joke.
The front door opened.
Leave it.
I grabbed Luna and started down.
A light came on behind the curtain.
"Fire escape," a man said inside my bedroom.
Another voice answered from below. "We see her."
I looked down.
Two men waited at opposite ends of the alley.
"Well, that's rude."
Luna dug her claws into my ribs.
"Agreed."
I tucked her tighter against me and moved faster.
The final ladder was wet. My shoe slipped.
One second I was climbing.
The next I was falling into a dumpster.
The impact knocked every bit of air out of me. My ankle folded, my elbow hit something sharp, and the smell nearly killed me before the men got the chance.
Wet cardboard. Rotten vegetables. Something that might once have been chicken.
Above me, boots hit metal.
"Alive," somebody called. "He wants her alive."
He.
Wonderful. A mysterious he.
I dragged myself up and over the side. My ankle gave the second it touched the ground.
Luna shot from my jacket and disappeared under a delivery truck.
"No. Luna."
I dropped to my knees and reached for her.
Footsteps hit the alley behind me.
I could not run while carrying her. I could not leave her.
There are decisions you imagine you'll make with dignity.
Real decisions usually happen while you're bleeding into garbage water.
I slapped the side of the truck. Luna scrambled farther underneath.
"Hide, baby."
Then I ran.
Every step lit my ankle on fire.
I burst onto the street and nearly got flattened by a sedan.
The driver leaned on the horn.
"Help me!"
He looked directly at me — stained scrubs, blood on my arm, crazy hair — and accelerated.
Chicago. City of neighbourly love.
Mr. Park's grocery was open on the corner. I stumbled inside hard enough to send a rack of chips sideways.
He looked up from the tiny television behind the counter.
"Valentina?"
"Call the police."
A dark figure stopped outside the glass.
I ran through the noodle aisle, knocked over something expensive, and shoved through the delivery door.
"Hey!" Mr. Park shouted.
"Sorry!"
The back alley was empty.
That was worse.
I limped toward Harrison Street. My car sat three blocks away in the hospital garage. Spare phone under the driver's seat. Tire iron in the trunk. A security booth that might or might not contain a sleeping guard.
It wasn't a great plan.
It was the only one I had.
The men followed without shouting. No threats. No dramatic running.
Just footsteps that stayed the same distance behind me no matter how many times I turned.
I cut through the courtyard of a condemned building and climbed a chain-link fence on one working ankle. My scrub pants caught near the top and tore across the thigh.
Perfect.
Now I looked hunted and indecent.
I dropped onto the other side.
For five seconds, I heard nothing.
Then a black vehicle rolled around the corner ahead of me.
Slow.
It didn't block the road. It didn't need to.
I turned right.
Headlights appeared behind me.
Left at the next alley.
A man was already there.
My father used to say professionals didn't chase you. They chased your choices until every road belonged to them.
I had laughed at him.
Sorry, Dad.
The hospital garage appeared ahead.
I ran harder.
- Writer
