Kill Contract

Breakout | 3

A/N: In case you couldn't tell; the previous chapter was an April fools prank. It has nothing to do with the actual storyline alright xD

"So...what do we do now?"

We'd taken cover in a very narrow, dark and unnoticeable crack between two buildings. Dirty water trickled through the cobblestone that was the ground, and I swear I could hear the scurrying of mice.

Austin had rushed us left and right, blurring through the city. Almost as if he was trying to get as far away from the prison as possible.

Now, with the dusk sun beginning to slip below the city line, we were breathless, hungry and wanted.

"Now, we think of some plan." He muttered absentmindedly, leaning against the wall in front of me.

"The thing is, we gotta get out as quickly as possible but also unnoticed. Airports have too much security. A train all the way out...risky."

I kept quiet and let him think. He was the brains and muscle of this escape.

As for me...I reached into my emergency pocket with sudden inspiration, and pulled out a map.

"See anything useful?"

He grabbed it and scrutinized it in silence.

I let my gaze wander away to the crooked entrance of the alley. Just yesterday I was having dinner at a small, downtown restaurant, unaware-

"There's a port." Austin said suddenly. He looked up at me.

"Cargo shipping. Big boxes. We can slip into one before morning, and then we'll be off."

"But...wait...the port is a couple kilometers away. And where are these ships going? And...that's...that's a terrible plan!"

He thought some more, balancing the risks and chances we had.

"We're going to need to steal a vehicle."

"Stealing? But we're...like the good guys...right?"

"There's no 'good' or 'bad' in my world." Austin said darkly. He looked away. "Only bad...and even worse."

I shivered, and not from the cold.

Ten minutes later, we entered a shabby run down pub.

"You know, the thing with bars," I told Austin. "Is that there are drunk people. And wanted posters. And there are always giant bar fights in the movies."

"This isn't a movie." He said. "And there are only four people."

"I'll wait here." I said, leaning against the entrance.

Austin walked over to the closest men and slammed his hands on their table.
"I want to challenge you." He said.

The middle aged guy grinned drunkenly to his left. He had a crooked nose.

"Ahah, so you think you can beat me. M-me!"

The younger one just kept sloshing down his drink.

"Arm wrestling." Austin pointed to the motorcycle parked outside. "And who wins gets the motorcycle."

A large hand clapped on his shoulder.

"That bike is mine, bub." The third bearded patron growled. His breath reeked of alcohol.

"All three then." Austin said, edging away from the larger one. "If I win, you give me the keys."

"And if you lose?" Crooked Nose leaned closer in interest.

"I buy you a drink." Austin offered.

"No." The smaller one spoke up, eyes narrowed. "We beat you up."

They all guffawed drunkenly, like this was going to be the funniest thing they'd ever see.

"Try me." Austin challenged, putting his arm on the table. Big Beard laughed and slammed his hand to his.

"Three, two, one-"

Austin shifted his hand position, leaned in and strained all his muscles.

Thud.

Big Beard looked in dreamy shock at his hand that now lay pinned on the table.

"Next." Austin said calmly.

Crooked Nose growled and grabbed his hand. "You filthy-"

A minute later, all three men were beaten. "The keys." Austin demanded, opening his hand.

Big Beard pushed over a table and cursed.

Austin stood up and hit him on the side of the head.

"You sonuva-" Crooked Nose shot up, spilling his drink all over the table.

Not another fight, please.

Austin spotted something hanging on Big Beard's belt. He grabbed the keys and burst outside.

"You got them!" I said.

Just then a bottle of glass crashed at my feet, sending green shards flying.

"Let's go!" Austin grabbed me and we raced to the motorcycle.

"Wear this." He took off his black jacket and pushed it in my arms, then climbed on the seat and started the engine.

I hurriedly pulled on the jacket over my neon yellow shirt and hooked my arms around Austin's waist.

The motorbike rumbled, drowning the sound of confused yelling that came from the bar as a man was thrown face first on the ground.

The motorcycle jerked forwards and we rode into the night.