Warriorpunks of France

Caught Once Again

He ran through the streets, his arms carrying all of the apples and bread he could carry from his visit in the marketplace. The young boy's brown hair and auburn eyes gleamed with adrenaline as he continued to run from his pursuers.

"Oye! Stop right there!" One officer yelled, fruitlessly.

Of course the 19 year old wouldn't stop. He never had and never will, for he is one of the notorious fighters and thieves, Jacques of the Perdus Children.

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Jacqes climbed up a wall and ran on the hedge and stopped on the hedge, jumping off. He, then, landed on the ground in the yard of a run down wooden house. The paint of the building seemed to scream of old age, peeling and wrinkling.

The shingles had fallen off, covering whatever left of the dark and stiff garden. A small concrete pathway led to the front steps and there were several pieces of cardboard replacing the door.

That is the life of the Perdus Children. Never to have a family, never to have a warm meal upon their table. So, Jacques has to work hard. To support his family, he must make sacrifices. As did his family of two.

Carrying the load of apples and bread in his hands, he headed towards the front door.

"Mon chere! Ada!" He called.

A petite girl, about the age of 7, with wild blonde hair pushed open the door. Her blue eyes widened at the side of Jacques. He smiled.

"JACQUES! You have returned!" She lept into his arms and Jacques dropped all of the apples and bread, embracing her tightly. He then put her down.

"Ada, help me pick up the apples and bring them inside to Masson, okay?"

Ada nodded, picking up the large apples three by three in her small, thin arms.

Jacques bent down to pick up the bread, but not before hearing the sounds of running feet coming from the small alleyway leading to the broken down house.

Non! I thought I lost them by taking another route!

"RUN!" Jacques shouted.

Little Ada walked out of the house just in time to see a hoard of uniform-wearing men beating down Jacques, who was struggling to get away.

She screamed. Another boy, 18 years old rushed from inside the house and glanced at the scene. His red hair and hazel green eyes dilated in shock and fear.

"MASSON! TAKE HER AWAY FROM HERE!" Jacques yelled before returning to the fetal position, trying to protect his vital areas from the metal-toed boots.

Masson, being the stronger of them all, lifted Ada effortlessly and tried to run, but the officers and climbed the stairs leading straight to the unreliable cardboard door before he could use the emergency exit.

"Come peacefully. Otherwise, we will use force! You cannot get away with stealing one of nobility!"

Masson carried Ada up to the second floor and into the small bedroom the three shared. He locked the door right before one of the men reached the door. The officers banged and kicked the door with their fists and knees.

"Masson, I'm scared. What about Jacques?" Ada crouched into the corner, hugging her knees.

Masson paced. What to do, what to do . . . He stopped. Lifting his head, he stared at the rug hanging on the wall away from the door. There is no choice. He tried to reason, but there was nothing else for him to do.