***
I fear the man chasing me has access to bus depot cameras, so I decide that I’ll try hitchhiking. Gavin has always told me never to hitchhike, however I think this extreme situation calls for something drastic. I go to a truck stop and after contemplating the idea of hiding away somewhere I’m instead offered a free ride to Vegas, which leads me to find out I have just been in Los Angeles. The guy gives me the creeps, but I don’t see much choice. I get into his truck and try not to breathe in through my nose as the bad smell is almost unbearable.
The man ends up being really nice and reminds me of Gavin in a way. He needs to talk about his life problems and since I don’t like talking, it seems like I’m good listener. Fortunately, I have other things on my mind rather than listening to BO’s problems, so I tune out early on.
I keep thinking about the man chasing me and wondering how he knew where I had gone. I had been in a park late at night when Emma had found me and taken me to the shelter. It would have been too dark for anyone to see anything. The only thing that makes sense is someone there reported me to the authorities. They wouldn’t have had my name, but someone fitting my description would have been all that man needed.
I look out the window and watch the desert surroundings pass us. The sun is out, but the air outside is cool. Living on the streets, the cold can kill people, yet so can the heat and summer is fast approaching. The in-between months are always the best or at least, the more bearable.
I watch as cars dangerously overtake us, some not even caring that another car is coming along in the other direction. I decide very quickly that I never want to be driven again, if possible, and feel sick being trapped in here. My stomach churns, sweat drips from my forehead and my heart races. I close my eyes in hopes I can pretend I’m somewhere else. The next time I open them, the sun is beginning to set and the lights of the strip in Vegas are visible.
I feel a small amount of excitement in the pit of my stomach start to rise past the churning that is still there. I never thought I would ever be in Vegas. Something about it makes me feel hopeful. Houses surround us and traffic gets thicker as we approach while nerves start to pile on me, too. I’m about to try and start again in a new town, one I know nothing about.
“Kid?”
I turn and see the truck driver looking at me expectantly. I haven’t heard his question.
“What?”
“Where do you want me to drop you off? I can’t go down the strip in this truck.”
I shrug, I’m not even sure if I want to go into that crowded area. The truck driver continues to look at me expectantly, but before I can think of an answer I see, in the side mirror, a black car swerving through the cars behind us, speeding along. My heart stops as the car pulls up alongside of the truck and I watch the man who’s chasing me stick his head out of his car window and look upwards. I sit back, letting the driver block the man’s view of me, but I doubt it does any good. Somehow he has found out where I am again.
The car speeds up and overtakes us, causing the truck driver to swear violently at him.
“Stop the truck,” I whisper at the driver, trying to yell, but finding my voice weak.
“What?” the driver calls out while still busy glaring at the black car.
“STOP!” I scream it now as I watch the black car in front of us stall to a stop fifty or so yards ahead and the man jumps out of the car, leaving it sitting in the middle of the road.
The truck driver slams on his breaks and swerves into oncoming traffic that has to swerve to get out of our way. Screeches and smashes surround us and my head hits the dashboard in front, hard enough for me to see the world blur. Finally we stop just short of hitting a street sign.
I slowly turn my head and feel blood dripping down the side of my face. The truck driver has also hit his head. He is breathing heavily and his hands are white as they still grip onto the steering wheel, a now deflating airbag most likely breaking his bloody nose.
“Are you okay?” I groan, wiping some of the blood away from my face with the sleeve on my new hoody. It didn’t take very long for it to get dirty.
The driver doesn’t answer me; I soon stop worrying about him and begin to feel like a sitting duck. I have to get out of this truck. I open the door and fall out onto the hard ground before I stand up shakily and dust myself off, trying to gain control back in my legs. I look around me and see people everywhere. Several accidents have happened and lots of damaged cars are wrecked around me. Sirens are going off in the distance, but I can only just make them out over the screams and cries that surround me.
No one appears to be seriously injured and I hope that’s true as I move quickly through everyone and head towards the bright lights of the strip. I quickly manage to get into a run without looking back to see if I’m being followed. I feel like running is the most important job I have to do and push myself to go as fast as my legs allow. My heart bashes harshly against my ribs and my lungs protest raggedly against the dusty air I’m breathing in, yet I ignore it all and keep going.
I make it to the rear of a large casino before I have to stop to catch my breath. I look around and see no one has followed me then look down at myself and frown. My hoody is covered in blood from my head wound and it’s also filthy from all the dirt I’ve been kicking up as I ran. My shoes are also dirty, but it’s at least harder to see that. My feet ache from not being used to the new shoes and I wince as I now have to limp around the side of the casino and stop just before I reach the crowd of people rushing past on the strip.
No one takes any notice of me and, for a moment, I don’t take any notice of the people. It’s not dark yet, but the sun above is quickly setting and some of the casinos already have their lights on. They look out of this world huge and extravagant. I briefly wonder what they’ll look like inside, but even though I know it’d be safer to be out in the crowd of people, I also know that I have blood everywhere. I need to blend in, not cause attention to myself. I have to clean myself up.
I turn back the way I came and move around the side of the casino so I’m at the back of it again, wondering where a public bathroom might be. As I turn the corner, I crash straight into someone.
“Sorry.” I keep my eyes downward, hoping to move past them quickly and that they don’t notice the state I’m in.
“No need to apologize, Will.”
I stop dead in my tracks upon hearing my name and look up into the face of the man who has been chasing me. Closer up, the man looks older than I had realized. His face is scarred on one side and while I can imagine him looking mean, right now his expression looks apologetic and reluctant.
“Who are you?”
“It’s not important. I’m sorry that I have to do this. I’m sorry I didn’t complete this earlier. You’ve proved harder to get to than I imagined. I didn’t want this to be painful or scary for you.”
“Please let me go,” I beg, taking a step backwards.
“Good-bye, Will.” The man looks relieved then as he holds out a gun in his hand towards me.
“No…” I close my eyes, knowing I won’t be able to get out of this one and that my time is finally up. Living on the streets, it probably should have come long ago.
Maybe this is better? My life has been filled with pain, hunger and sadness. What am I holding onto? Why bother fighting this anymore? Innocent people keep getting hurt. Gavin is dead.
I open my eyes, hearing a gasp from the man when I expect to hear a gunshot. I turn just in time to watch a van speeding towards us. I manage to jump aside and stare in horror as the van crashes into the wall of the casino, missing me by millimeters. I stand up shakily, trying to catch my breath and see the man who has been chasing me gasp because he’s now pinned to the wall. Blood drips down from his mouth and his eyes have widened in shock as he tries to mouth something to me. I can’t make out what he is trying to say, though. His eyes then close and his body goes limp as he takes in his last breaths.
His body starts to di
sintegrate and, as a strong wind rushes past me, the dust and ashes from where the man had been start to get blown away. I feel sure that isn’t normal. Doesn’t it usually take days if not weeks or years for something like that to naturally happen? I once saw a man on the street killed from the cold and Gavin had said he had been there for two days before we found him. This has only taken seconds to happen. Who had that man been? What had he been?
I feel dizzy, taking in the scene and my legs buckle from under me as another wave of nausea hits me. I close my eyes and panic when something goes over my mouth. It’s a damp cloth that smells strange. Arms wrap around me tightly and my legs drag against the ground. My body instinctively struggles against what is happening, but already, I feel myself getting weaker.
I manage to get myself free from the arms, but my legs can no longer support me and I hit the rough pavement under me hard. I try to call out, however my voice feels blocked. Tears fall down my face when black spots grow so big over my eyes that I can no longer see any light. I move my arms when someone takes hold of them again. I know I don’t have the strength to fight them anymore as I’m dragged away with the cloth pressed against my mouth more forcibly.
Muffled voices drift past my ears and I don’t understand what is being said. Sleep seems like the most important thing to do now, so I let myself slip into unconsciousness. Unaware of where I’m going or why I’m being taken away.
ROSE MONTGOMERY
Taken By Surprise Page 23