InEscapable

InEscapable Part 5

She takes the bleachers two at a time and only loses balance at the very end. He watches as she slams against the metal rail between her and the blacktop running track. She winces, clutching her side again, the same side she favored by the field house.

Definitely injured.

She hops over the rail in one graceful motion, and tears onto the football field, interrupting what looks like a practice session. It takes only seconds for her to sprint across the width of it, dodging unexpecting players as she passes them by. When she reaches the stadium bleachers on the other side, she runs all the way up the concrete steps.

He should leave, he knows. He should vacate the scene. She's sure to tell someone. He's surprised she didn't stop someone on the field, tell them what happened. But it's like she didn't even see the boys practicing. Not as people, anyway. Just as obstacles to be maneuvered around.

Alexander jogs back to the truck, trying to allow himself time to assess what happened. He attempts to calculate the damage of his recklessness and decides "astronomical" sounds accurate. Wade is waiting in the driver's side, just like he knew he'd be. Just like he's trained to be. That makes one of us.

"Where is she?" Wade says, incredulous.

"Gone." Alexander slams the door.

Wade stomps on the gas. "Gone? You didn't catch her?"

"No." He's not going to explain himself to Wade. He will though, have to explain it to Liam. And Liam will not be happy.

"What the heck was that?" Wade says, panicked enough to forget to mute his southern accent. "Was it Dr. Forsythe? Did he set us up?" Wade says, hopping a curb and steering them down an alley between buildings—the exact opposite of what Alexander would have done. When Wade glances back at him, his eyes go round. "You're bleeding. I don't...I don't think I've ever seen that."

Alexander growls, pulling up his shirt and using it to wipe the blood from his lip. It has been a long time since he's cleaned up his own blood. "It's nothing. I have blood; I can bleed."

"Yeah but—"

"Enough."

"Sorry."

"Pull over here. I'm driving until you collect your wits."

Wade does as he's told, parking them against a building. "You're not just a little freaked out about what just happened? Has that ever happened before?"

"Has someone tried to intervene before? Yes." They usually try to Extract the Objective when they're alone, to prevent a well-meaning bystander from getting hurt. The Extractions can get out of hand, like the one today. Wade had been prepared to watch for well-meaning bystanders. Alexander had prepared him himself.

Alexander had seen the blonde girl standing there, but Wade apparently had not—that or he deemed her as a threat he could easily neutralize.

"Yeah, but have they ever succeeded in intervening?"

"She didn't succeed. We got what we came for."

"But Alexander—"

"Enough!" He takes a few stabilizing breaths. He knows exactly what Wade is asking, but he doesn't have the answer. All he really knows is that yelling at Wade is not going to help the matter. He needs Wade calm. He needs himself calm. He needs to analyze the damage and strategize alternative solutions.

Emotion does not have a place in this scenario, yet emotion is what he feels. More has happened here than a mere escaped assailant; there have been times where that has happened. The more pressing issue is that Wade was going to Defect—and Alexander helped him not to. Lead by example, he hears Liam say. Assert your control. Emotions are poison to logic.