Okay, everyone, part 6 is here! In case y’all forgot, Kirk has just realized that maybe their current location isn’t quite safe…..
Whatever I Draw
by Eliza May
Tullier closed his eyes for a brief moment, and then snapped them open again. “I thought I had lost them,” he muttered. Joining Kirk by the window, he looked out.
The black car that had been following him was parked outside, and three men were standing in the pouring rain beside it. In all respects, they looked like government agents, complete with guns and dark glasses. One of them was wearing a suit, while the others were dressed more practically. Suspiciously, they stared up at the building, and conversed amongst themselves, seemingly oblivious to the rain. Then the man in the suit, apparently their leader, nodded his head towards the door and the other two tentatively approached it. From their creeping stances, they seemed to be expecting an attack at any minute.
Tullier watched with a fascinated horror. The splintering crash of the door to the tenement being kicked down woke him from his stupor. Breathing heavily, and trying with heroic effort to bury his panic, he turned to his three new companions. “Is there another way out?”
Kirk didn’t answer, instead chewing his lip and nervously fingering a handgun that he had taken from a pack on the floor.
“Is there another way out?” demanded Tullier again.
Footsteps sounded, echoing down the empty hallway that led to the stairs.
Stefania, pale and breathing hard, looked up at him. “If we go to the next room over, there’s an escape to the roof.”
The men were on the stairs now, and the wood groaned in protest at this unaccustomed use.
Tullier glanced at Kirk to see if he could confirm this or take action in leading them to the aforementioned room. He did nothing. Gritting his teeth angrily, Tullier took command.
“Come on guys, we’re moving to the next room. Quietly.” Still, Kirk didn’t stir. Fury building within him, Tullier grabbed the big man’s shoulder and shoved his face into his own. “Come. On.”
This seemed to wake Kirk at least a little. “Right,” he muttered under his breath, trying to wipe his sweaty hands on the cold, hard surface of his gun. “Right.”
“Get your things, quickly,” Tullier ordered, “and then quietly follow me.”
The footsteps were slowly and steadily approaching.
Kirk, Luger, and Stefania each picked up a black backpack from the floor where they had been resting. In an impressively quiet yet penetrating whisper, Stefania hissed, “Should we put everything back how we found it? Like, leave no trace and that sort of thing?”
Tullier hesitated for a moment, but then answered firmly, “No. Speed and silence are our only hope.” He moved to the door, listening.
Suddenly, there was a muffled exclamation, as the men met with the lump on the stairs.
Tullier could not help but smile. Now was their chance. He opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.
A glow of light came from the men’s flashlights. Soon, they would realize what the pile was and move on.
Beckoning with his hand for the others to follow, Tullier stole down the hallway. He glanced questioningly at Stefania, and she pointed to the correct door.
Their followers’ footfalls continued again, after a succession of grunts. They were evidently unpleased with the pile of rags.
Tullier opened the correct door a crack and squeezed through. Luger and Stefania followed. Kirk, to accommodate his size, pushed the door open further as quietly as he could. As quietly as he could wasn’t very quiet at all.
The hinges shrieked, and the men below them shouted and quickened their pace significantly, now almost running up the few remaining stairs.
The four fugitives shared looks. Kirk slammed the door and dragged an old table in front of it. Tullier spoke one word. “Run.”
Tell me what you think!