Prisoner of Cell 554

Chapter Eighteen

         Riff's grip on my wrist was iron as we strode to the double doors leading out of the store, out into the blindingly bright sunshine. I squinted against the bombardment of my irises, hand clasping Riffs coming up to block the light. I still wasn't used to the sun, having spent my entire remembered life in the dark. But my hand wasn't able to fully come up before Riff yanked it and we were off, supplies rustling loudly as we walked quickly around the edge of the building onto the next street. I started to casually look over my shoulder to see if they were following but Riff yanked on my hand again, spinning me back around. When I glared at him, he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and said, "Don't look. Right now, the only thing keeping them from shooting us is the belief that we are still ignorant of their presence, and therefore they can afford to find a less public spot before making a move."

         Feeling slightly chastened, I kept my eyes forward, darting from person to person, trying to determine if they were a part of the group trailing us. Was the old women watering the flowers in front of her shop hiding a gun in her apron, ready to shoot at the slightest motion? What about the young man leaning against the side of the drug store, smoking a cigarette and talking into a small strange metal box ("That's a phone," my old self whispered, for which I hissed back, "Shut up.")? How can I be sure that any of the people I see aren't working with the company following us? This was making me paranoid, even more so then I already was. It also served as a blunt reminder of the motto I had lived on for as long as I remembered; trust no one.

         Except for, of course, strange men who bust into your prison cell and randomly rescue you. Man, I really did need to have that chat with Riff. 

         We rounded the next corner, ready to dodge and weave through any pedestrians that happen to be in our way. Only, as we turned, we found that there was nobody on this street, nobody walking or running or even just mowing their lawn or watering their flowers. Uh oh, was all I was able to think before the feet following us starting pounding nearer, ready to seize the opportunity. 

         "Shit," Riff whispered under his breath, but this time it was me that pulled on his wrist and took off, all pretense abandoned. We were off like a rocket, with me in lead for a few brief seconds before Riff overcame me and was once again pulling me along. Damn, that was annoying. If I ever got out of this alive, I was going to seriously need to work on regaining muscle. Our pursuers cursed, realizing we were on to them, and tripled their pace. 

         For a few minutes, we were back to the day we first escaped; Riff and I running relentlessly with angry guards on our tail. My focus narrowed down, once again, to putting one foot in front of the other, to the puffing of my breath and the wheezing of my lungs. To the thudding of the plastic bags against my thighs. My vision blurred, hardly seeing or caring what was around us. I was aware enough to know that there were quite a few curious people staring now, and that, from the houses around us - or, more specifically, the growing spaces between each house - that we were getting further and further away from the town. 

         That also meant we were getting further and further away from our main goal. 

         Suddenly, there was a screech behind us. I threw one look over my shoulder, and my eyes widened. The van that had been before innocently sitting in the driveway of one of the houses lining the road around us had sputtered to life and was now cruising towards us at full speed. With a string of curses, I swung to the side, yanking Riff with me. We sprawled in the dirt at the side of the road, and the van roared past. I felt the hot wind from the engine wash over us, as well as the stinging scent of motor oil and the biting stench of stale cigarettes. The van screeched to a halt down the road, tires squealing painfully loud as it attempted to turn around without stopping.