The Ambiguous Secret

She bit her bottom lip and tried to ease out of her hysteria as the screaming and explosions resonated to her from the dumpsters blocking the site of the chaos. Anxiety never overrode her natural instincts to fight before. Her racing heartbeat did not thrive for adrenaline, but for shelter. Another car bomb exploded down the block. The police, who were trying to capture her, blocked off every entrance to her apartment. All of her belongings—all the necessities she needed to survive—were on the fourth floor.

Muttering to herself to think straight, Violet paced in her tight space between the two dumpsters and ran her fingers through her choppy, coarse black hair. As she looked up the two brick edifices, inaudible curses flew from her mouth. Those lessons in parkour that Maurice was willing to give her would have come in handy right now. The beginning of the emergency ladder was three feet too high if she were to stand on the dumpster to reach up for the handle. Sirens bounced off the buildings and the sounds of police hounds rattled whatever was left of Violet’s street smarts. Time swept away as V franticly climbed the dumpster. She would try to survive for another minute or die either from attempting parkour or from the approaching officers on the other side of the corner. Unsteadily, V jumped from the dumpster, pushed off the brick wall and reached with her fingers for the metal hold. Two fingers caught on and with that, Violet pulled the ladder down faster than her brain had time to register she actually pulled off her stunt. No time to rejoice, she thought to herself as the barking rounded the corner to the sound of the emergency ladder. Gaining control of her breathing, V climbed the ladder quickly. The officials yelled for her to stop and others called in her location. None of them mattered anymore; they would not shoot her down because they needed her alive. Government wanted her to be a rat in the bigger plans. She could not help but let a smirk break her serious concentration. Violet was not a rat. She role-played a bigger part in this scheme. The objective was to make her seem useless to the downfall.

The emergency escape rattled as more bodies weighed it down. Violet doubled up the steps and kicked in her window. No time to fiddle with latches and pushing it open; the officers were just a floor below her. Slipping through the broken glass, she headed straight for under her bed and pulled out her knapsack of ammunition. Another small backpack supplied emergency food, water and aid. She lifted her mattress and snatched a thick manila file with a jump-drive taped to it. Taking one of her M-9 handguns out of the knapsack, she ran for the door. As V turned the knob, the police officers tried to make their way through the broken window. Dashing down the hallway, she could hear the dogs in the stairway and common sense told her the elevators were blocked off downstairs. In the midst of the panic, Violet shot the door handle to her neighbor’s door and kicked it open. Mrs. Halverson’s apartment was empty for the exception of her two cats that scampered away at V’s presence. The layout was exact to hers, except backwards, as she sprinted to the bedroom for the other fire escape.

“I’ll pay for the damage, Mrs. H; promise,” Violet muttered to herself as she broke another window to make her getaway. Heart pumping and brain in control once more, V jumped the sets of stairs to save time and hopped over the side of the escape once she hit the second floor. Slamming into the dumpsters sent her nerves into a ruckus, but she rolled off and sprinted towards the car bombers. Maurice would definitely need to teach her some parkour before her next trip into the city.