The Temple Run

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO| Asleep

"You've had a good run, sweetheart," Rickshaw said, smiling. He unfolded his fists as he looked at the panting lady, crawling on the floor. "Just so you know- you started this. And you wanted me to fight you."

     "I wanted to kill you," she said angrily.

     "I could've given you one if you'd not have attacked me," he said. "Honestly, I think you've scratched my wrist a little horribly. You're quite the fighter."

     "Hell," she said. "I'm not giving up."

     He smiled as he folded his fists again. "I honestly don't want you to do this, anymore. But, if you want it so bad, why wouldn't I?"

Job watched as Pete tried to gesture Bones and everyone else to start a fight with the wardens behind them.

     But Bones didn't listen. The new guy didn't have the guts, and nor did Job.

     He sighed and tried to get up but all sorts of guns pointed at him, and he quickly knelt.

     Rickshaw was distracted a little, and her shoulder smacked his face, sending him backward, before he saw her running towards him, with her teeth gnashing, and her fist high up in the air.

    He knew what she was going for- a superman-punch.

    And he blocked it, just at the nick of time.

    And then, before she could recover from the recoil of the block, gave her a terrible knock-out blow that sent her unconscious onto the floor.

He then looked up at everyone else, realizing that he had won, smiling.

     Kendrick really hoped that he wouldn't go any further than this- and fortunately, he didn't.

    "Game's over," he said. "I won."

    No one moved. And he raised his hands. "What? Aren't you happy for me? Fine, stay with your happiness in your cells. You almost distracted me, anyway."

     And he left the room, leaving everyone surprised.

     "C'mon!"

     And they led them down into the containment section- and everyone got their own cell.

+ + + + +

"Back to square one," Job said to himself, laughing hopelessly.

     He could feel the loneliness again. It was all dark behind him- but this wasn't his initial cell.

     He could tell because, through the window above him, there was a writing in what looked like ink from a marker pen.

     He wondered whether everyone else was alright- and particularly Rose.

     He shook his head.

     He didn't really want to think about them. Thinking about them brought him memories about her.

     He didn't want to start hoping again for something that would never happen.

     Perhaps he was destined to stay there, forever.

     He sat against the floor, humming an old song he remembered from the radio.

     And as sleepiness slowly drifted in, his head bent forward and his eyes closed.