The Phantom City

Chapter 6

Heat roared up my face. I hurled my phone at the madman's head, and lunged. Race's eyes widened. He made to swing his gun at my skull. It shattered the window instead. Driving my elbow into his stomach, a shout ripped free from my throat. A bowling-ball sized fist smashed into my face as a reward.

In a flurry of movement, he somehow found a grip on my wrists, and wrenched me forward till I hit the dash. "Don't, don't, don't!" The lady wailed. With the world spinning, I tried to scramble out of his grip, but I was suddenly a play doll in the hands of an enraged toddler. In quick succession, my head bashed the chair, the window, and a short tumble later, the pavement.

Screaming. So much noise.

I laid motionless, focusing on the raspy breaths shaking my chest. Footsteps pounded as people sprinted away, ants fleeing from beneath an upturned boulder.

"What did I tell you?" The giant laughed, lumbering out of the car. "Too predictable, children. I knew from the moment you opened your eyes that you were awake."

He spread his arms wide, facing the fleeing crowd. "Tell the world," A boot splintered into my ribs with a crack. "That Race does not suffer liars. Nor anyone who wants to put their nose where it doesn't belong."

I twitched the muscles that responded in my arm. Have to get up, have to run, have to get up...

I was rewarded with the weight of the shining boot on my neck, the heel grinding into collarbone.

I choked, my hands grasping at his ankle. It was iron beneath my fingertips.

Race aimed his weapon, a small pistol now. "Know that you died for nothing, boy. The other was empty; I never wound the undeserving."

A blast went off.

I watched the bullet spiral towards my forehead. It spun slowly, taking its time, barely moving an inch every couple seconds.

Hurry. This will only last so long. The whisper seemed to vibrate out from the ground itself. The bullet shined, catching the daylight, compressing slowly from the air pressure. Picking up speed. I blinked up at it, beads of sweat and blood heavy on my eyelashes. Move!

With the last bit of my strength, I rolled out from under the boot. The world sped back up. Race let out a howl as the bullet rebounded against the concrete and buried itself in his calf. For whatever reason, this seemed to give strength to the remaining people -- several men started it, tackling him from behind, then others jumped in. The people's purses smacked and arms restrained until a policeman in uniform burst out of the cafe, spilling his coffee as he made to take care of the whole mess.

I couldn't find it in myself to care. Lead-boned, I set my head against the feather-soft concrete, coughing out sputters of spit and blood. It's been a long day, I reasoned. And it's barely noon.

The last sensation I noted before I sunk into true darkness was strong hands lifting me up, a halo of sun framing a young woman's concerned face.

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Mom was slumped at the kitchen table, her head buried in her hands. The single lightbulb above her washed out the color of her skin. She glanced up, then smoothed out the wrinkles in her face when she heard me creeping down the stairs. "Owen? Honey, tomorrow's a school day," She said. "Don't tell me you were up playing video games again."

I tucked my Nintendo into my back pocket. "Nope. Just couldn't sleep."

"Uh-huh." She fixed me with a stare. I guiltily looked down at my feet. After a moment, she breathed out a laugh, and patted the chair next to her. "Not much to be done about it now, I suppose. Come sit with me, I'll make us some cocoa. Maybe you'll sleep better with something warm in your stomach."