Forest Through the Trees

Chapter 12 (Alex)

It’s a long f*****g walk.

The only place that won't card a 17-year-old for buying smokes is this sketchy little hole-in-the-wall convenience store. That also happens to be inconveniently located all the way on the other end of town.

When I have the car it's not that big of a deal. But walking is another story.

I am on my way back now and the sun is starting to set, but unfortunately, the way back is way worse. Half of it is uphill and takes nearly twice as long.

Christ, I am out of shape.

Plus, I should probably cut out the smoking.

I finally crest the top of the hill and reach my halfway mark.

I need to catch my breath. Luckily, most of the shops are closed now and the main street is pretty much empty. I plop down on a nearby bench, glad that no one is around to watch me struggle for air.

I allow myself a few moments to relax. The evening is cool but nice and I just start to breathe normally again as I watch the sun start slowly sinking into the horizon. It's probably after seven now.

Just a guess, which reminds me yet again that I really need to find my phone.

I am racking my brain trying to remember the last place I had it when I hear a loud clang from the ally down the street. It sounds like tin scraping on pavement, or likely someone knocking over a garbage pail.

I watch as two lanky guys stumble out onto the sidewalk and start heading my way. They must be the perpetrators and...

Fuck my life.

It’s Dylan and Karl.

Can I not just catch a f*****g break?

I keep my eye on them, just waiting for them to inevitably notice me. But my luck must be turning because something catches their attention and they veer off to cross the street instead.

I let out a breath, but turn to keep watching, planning on heading off once they are out of sight.

That’s when I notice, HER.

Even given her short stature, she is hard to miss. Her long golden hair in that high ponytail shines in the setting sunlight. And the distinct way her hips swish...

She stops to dig in her oversized bag and I watch as Dylan and Karl slow their pace, like wolves stalking their prey.

Fuck sakes, does she not realize?

No good can come from this.

Damn it.

I have to look away before I get the urge to do something stupid.

Why should I care what happens to her?

I don’t. I don’t care at all. I tell myself.

What I need to do is get out of here.

I chance one more look in their direction. Dylan and Karl have caught up to her now. She keeps walking while they are trying to talk to her. I can’t hear what is being said but I can tell that she is having none of it.

Knowing her, she will likely get herself into trouble with that mouth of hers. But again, I don’t care, and she probably deserves whatever's coming.

I resolve to walk away and start heading towards home again, fully intending to slip unnoticed up the next street, but I stop dead when a pained yell rings out.

Whipping back around, I take in the scene. Karl is hunched over cupping his nuts, Willow is booking it down the street and Dylan is hot on her heels.

Ouch. Bet that hurt, I smile.

If any two guys deserve a cashew blast, it’s these assholes, and I would be lying if I said I hadn't been daydreaming about doing the same thing all afternoon.

I watch as Willow tries to dodge Dylan by slipping up a side street but within seconds, he has snagged her arm, yanking her back to face him.

Before I know what's happening, I am across the street.

By the time I catch up to them, Dylan has ripped her bag from her shoulder. But she is fighting back, gripping onto the handle with all her might.

“Drop it b***h. It ain’t worth your life”. I hear him snarl at her.

“HEY!” I yell as I rush up behind him.

That startles him and he spins around letting go of the bag and causing Willow to go flying backward. She lands hard on her ass with an “oof”, still clutching it.

I see red.

My hands gripping the front of his baggy sweater, I shake him hard.

“What the f**k do you think you’re doing?”.

Dylan laughs menacingly “Dude, Relax”.

I have never wanted to rip someone's head off more than I do this moment.

I hear Willow take in a sharp breath. "Alex...” is all she gets out before I am struck in the head, followed by a quick blow to the gut.

The shock of the sudden hits nearly sends me to the ground but I manage to right myself and dodge the next blow, deflecting it with my right forearm and striking back with my left fist.

I feel bone crunch under my knuckle as it makes contact with Dylan's nose.

He goes down.

Karl, who must have been the one who struck me in the head, gets another hit on me. Cracking me in the side under the ribs and I momentarily lose my breath. I stoop, clutching my ribs and from the corner of my eye, I can see him pull his leg back. I instinctively know that he is winding up for a knee to the face.

Before he can make contact, I hear a guttural scream and watch in shock as Willow brings her bag down over Karl's head like a warrior woman wielding a Morningstar.

“What the f**k!” Karl yelps, stumbling back and clutching his face with both hands.

I finally manage to right myself again when Dylan bellows “ENOUGH!”.

I look over. Blood runs freely from his clearly broken nose and he swipes at it with the back of his sleeve, clearing it from his lips and spitting the same from his mouth. From his back pocket, he pulls out a switchblade.

Fuck.

“Hand over the f*****g bag. NOW!”.

Willow sees the blade and her eyes widen. She wastes no time throwing the bag at his feet and steps away from him and towards me.

She is tough, I'll give her that. But thank God she isn’t stupid.

Dylan picks it up and hands it over to Karl who promptly dumps the contents on the ground. He kicks through the items, scattering keys, tampons, candy wrappers, spare change...

A big-ass math textbook.

I can’t hide a smirk. Karl is having a rough night, that’s one heavy bag.

Dylan keeps the blade drawn on us while Karl crouches, pocketing her wallet and snatching up an orange pill bottle.

“Here we go! Now we’re talking!” Karl laughs shaking the bottle.

“What is it?” Dylan asks, still keeping his attention on us.

“Ris...per... peri... done?” Karl shrugs.

Dylan snatches the bottle out of his hands looking it over.

“What’s it for?” He eyes her.

Willow doesn’t miss a beat and shrugs nonchalantly “Menstrual Cramps”.

Dylan makes a face.

“Cool, pain meds!” Karl excitedly grabs the bottle back and cracks it open, popping a pill into his mouth before pocketing the rest.

“You’re lying” Dylan snarls at Willow. “What are they really for?”

Willow doesn’t answer and just crosses her arms, glaring at him.

Dylan is not as stupid as Karl which makes him way more dangerous.

“Whatever. I'll just look it up later”

Willows jaw clenches. If looks could kill, Dylan would be dead.

“Now you.” He waves the knife in my direction.

“Fine” he gives a sigh when I make no move to comply. “Search him” he snaps at Karl “He’s gotta have SOMETHING on him”.

Karl approaches and goes in to pat me down but I quickly shove him off. Maybe Willow is smart enough not to purposely antagonize them but I guess I am not.

Dylan is quick to come in with the blade, but it’s not at me. He grabs Willow and holds the blade up to her face. “Let's not be stupid. Now tell your boyfriend to cooperate”.

“He is not my boyfriend” and “She is not my girlfriend” we both object at the same time.

“I DON'T f*****g CARE!” Dylan yells “Now search him!”.

It takes a lot of control not to punch Karl out when I feel his grimy hands patting down my pockets, so I focus on Willow instead.

Why did I get involved?

I am sure she is wondering the same thing as she makes eye contact with me.

Karl locates my wallet, flipping through it and tossing it aside when he realizes it’s empty. Delving deeper he then finds the two packs of Belmont's I bought for my mom.

I clench my fists, briefly wondering if not coming home at all would be better than coming home empty-handed.

It would be bad enough to lose a single $10 pack. But my mom has to have the best, and at eighteen bucks a pop, losing both packs hurts more than my aching ribs.

“I knew you were holding out on us!” Dylan smirks.

“Belmont's too” Karl adds “Someone has a taste for the rich life”.

He proceeds to rip the plastic off one of the packs and pulls out two smokes, handing one over to Dylan.

“Are we done here? You’ve got what you wanted” Willow says, trying to wiggle out of Dylans' grip.

“Done?” His laugh turns my blood cold “The fun hasn’t even started yet”.

As his scrutinizing gaze travels up Willow's body, realization dawns and her eyes go wide and dart to mine.

Heat builds up in me as I surpass rage and reach a calm resolve.

If they think I am going to stand here and let them do unthinkable things to her they have severely misjudged me. I would rather get stabbed. The look in Willow's eyes says the same. She won’t be going down without a fight.

Dylan has the smoke dangling from his mouth, a sadistic smile playing at his lips "You see Alex? This is why you want to be on the right side. The winning side. So now's your chance. What do you say?" I watch as he leans in and sniffs Willow's hair, right next to her ear. She cringes and looks like she wants to be sick, but she doesn't let the fear show. "Mmmm" Dylan moans and then whispers to her "I can't wait to hear you scream".

I have never wanted to hurt someone more than I do at this moment. I wanted them both to burn.

What happens next unfolds in silence. All I can hear is the thud of my own heart in my ears.

Karl flicks his lighter leaning in to start Dylans' cig.

The tiny flame explodes, jumping up Dylan's arm and catching his baggy sweater, spreading fast.

I think everyone is stunned because no one moves or reacts right away.

But all I can think is... JUSTICE, and how I hope for pain.

I watch as the flame almost dances, flaring blue before a spark jumps to his other arm and ignites.

A blood-curdling scream is wretched from Dylan as he drops the knife and starts to flail. Karl jumps into action swatting at his blazing arms with his bare hands.

I can’t tear my eyes away, transfixed at the sight, and I barely register a forceful tug on my arm as I am pulled away.

I look down at Willow and she says something that I don’t register, but she has a hold of my arm and is pulling me forward as we start to run.

What is happening?

I try to think but my mind won't focus. Like it is trying to keep me from thinking too hard about what I just witnessed.

Is this what shock feels like?

A block down and my lungs are starting to burn already. The pain in my ribs is almost unbearable, but Willow is still pulling me along by my sleeve.

I can’t stop myself from looking back, needing to know what happened.

Dylan is no longer on fire but is still screaming profanities at top volume, clutching his arms to his chest.

“YOU’RE f*****g DEAD!” he yells at us like we somehow cause it and Karl is now racing after us at full speed.

“Oh s**t” We need to get out of here.

My pain, coupled with Willow's short legs and we are moving at a snail's pace. Karl is gaining fast and he will be on us in no time. There is just no way we are going to be able to outrun him.

But I might have an idea.

“This way” I grab Willow's hand and force her to turn the next corner into an alley.

It’s my turn to pull her along as we zig-zag through the tight space, avoiding garbage cans, building supplies, and the odd pile of... I’m not sure, but I am not going to think about it.

Lucky for us I know my way around.

I have spent many hours exploring these back streets as a kid, never realizing that those lonely days might actually come in handy or potentially save my ass.

Halfway down is what could best be described as a crevice. A space between two buildings that face away from each other. The space is little more than two feet wide and leads back to a rickety metal ladder. Anyone who didn’t already know about this literal hole in the wall would miss it completely.

It’s going to be a tight fit but it’s our best bet.

We reach it and I quickly move aside a wooden pallet that is blocking the way.

The space is clearly being used as a garbage dump because the small area is filled with junk making it seem even smaller.

But it’s too late now.

I pull out enough junk to allow us to fit in.

“What are you doing? We can’t stop!” Willow gasps out between heavy panicked breaths.

“Trust me,” I say finally slipping inside and pulling her with me.

It is tight and we are squished in chest-to-chest. I squeeze my eyes shut and focus on my breathing, super aware of how heavy, and more importantly LOUD it is. All I can do now is pray that this works.

Willow wiggles uncomfortably, pressed too tight against me.

She is so short. Our major height difference is clear when we are this close and I can’t help but notice that I am able to see right down her shirt. Getting a full view of her generous breasts.

I force myself to look away, hyper-aware that they are squished against me.

“This is a bad idea, we should keep...”

I clamp my hand over her mouth as I hear heavy footsteps approaching down the ally.

“Quiet” I whisper in her ear.

We both listen as he closes in.

I watch Willow, my hand still over her mouth. She squeezes her eyes shut as he passes by our hiding spot, without stopping.

Neither of us moves a muscle for several minutes as we listen to his fading steps.

We both let out a sigh of relief.

Thank God that worked.

Minutes pass as we stand in silence, neither of us wants to risk leaving our hideout too soon and I for one am trying to steady my heaving breaths as each one sends pain shooting into my side.

I realize that my hand is still covering her mouth when she pulls it away to ask “Do you think they're gone?”,

Peaking out, I shake my head “I don’t know”.

She frowns "We are kind of trapped in here".

I sigh.

She's right. If we try and leave the ally from either end, we risk running into one of them and starting this cat and mouse chase all over again.

She shifts on her feet uncomfortably, trying to make space between us “Well, we can’t stay here either”.

Definitely not. It's an awkward position. She's between my legs and I am desperately trying not the think about the fact that her body is pressed so tight against mine.

I need to get away from her.

She moves again and her hip catches me in the nuts. I think she realizes what she did from the way I grunt because her cheeks go red and she quickly turns her head from me.

I like that about her.

I mean, I like that she has a tell. It makes her a little easier to read.

And it's something I can exploit.

“I have another idea,” I tell her as I squeeze by, lifting myself onto a pile of pressed cardboard “follow me”.

We work our way through the tight space, towards the ladder at the far end.

It is disgusting, and the dimming light prevents us from knowing exactly what kind of sticky substance we are stepping in. However, I'm not sure if that's a plus or a minus.

At one point I accidentally kick a box, causing a disgruntled rat to come rushing out of its hiding spot. Willow jumps towards me almost making me fall forward and she lets out a startled squeal that she quickly stifles with her hands over her mouth.

“We are trying to be quiet remember?” I shake my head "wimp".

She just rolls her eyes at me.

To be fair she is handling this whole ordeal way better than I would have expected. I don't know what I would do if she was a blubbering mess.

It makes me wonder how Scar would have handled being in Willow's situation. Would she have been able to put up a fight, or at least try to like Willow did? Or would she cry and beg?

I shake that thought from my head. I don't want to think about Scar getting hurt.

It was bad enough with Willow.

I look back at her, watching as she maneuvers over garbage that is waist-deep. Scar wouldn't be caught dead doing this. But she would also never need to. Scar is not the type of person who finds herself in trouble very often. It comes with her privilege. But I can already tell that Willow is different. She seems like the type who is used to getting her hands dirty, and maybe even likes it.

It's actually kind of refreshing.

Finally, we make it to the end and I grab the bottom rung of the ladder and give it a good shake. It’s old but it seems pretty sturdy. "You first," I tell her.

She eyes the ladder skeptically "Why? So you can have a good laugh when that thing breaks and I fall to my death?" She shakes her head "I don't think so".

"It will be fine. Go on".

"If it's fine, then you go first".

God, she is so frustrating.

"Well princess, If I go first how do you plan on reaching the first rung?"

It's high. I can reach it standing and I will be able to jump and grab the second or third rung and pull myself up, but I doubt that she will be able to jump high enough.

She looks back down the way we came and I can tell she is debating trying her luck.

"Whatever. Do what you want, but I am going up" I tell her "and I won't be coming back for you".

When she still doesn't more I shrug and step toward the ladder.

"Alright," She sighs, giving in at the last second.

She squeezes past me and attempts a feeble jump for the bottom rung but misses by a few inches.

I kneel down "Here".

She puts one foot in my hand and grips my shoulder for balance. Using me as a step, she reaches the first rung but dangles there helplessly unable to pull herself to the next one.

I have to stifle a laugh watching her struggle. She is barely off the ground but looks like a child trying to get down from a high chair.

I try to grab her legs and push her up, but pain shoots through my side as I lift and I momentarily lose grip.

By the time she finally finds her footing, I've had more ass in my face than Sir Mix-A-Lot.

“I hope you enjoyed yourself,” she says looking down at me. Her face beat red again.

"Get over yourself" I grumble. But in truth, besides the pain, it wasn't entirely unpleasant.

She does have a nice ass and I openly watch it sway as she ascends the ladder.