‹ Prequel: Chasing Imagination
Sequel: Martyr's Run

Hurricane Heart

A Sense of Freedom

Hurricane

We walked into the MccDonald’s, bright and white and sterile under the glare of the unpretentious strip lighting, busy with people eating breakfast; mostly businesspeople and travellers needing a quick bite to eat before being on their way. A few people glanced up at us, which I could sense made Arjan uneasy, but we could pass off like this as merely two people who were just a little more daring than the average citizen. And besides, if anything did happen; if anyone did become suspicious, I had a loaded gun and enough fighting skill to take out every sad, ignorant man, woman and child in this room. Well, maybe I’d leave the children. I wasn’t that kind of person.

Of course, if the police came, that was another matter, but I preferred not to think about that. Arjan had nothing to fear anyway; if nothing else, he was still innocent. It wouldn’t be easy getting out of the web, but it wouldn’t be impossible. We’d just have a bit of trouble trying to get back to the car.

I noticed the toilets to the left; two salmon coloured doors close to the front of the building.

‘Go,’ I told Arjan, nodding in that direction. Once he was gone, I did a very fast scan of the room to double check that there were no obvious Soulless or police officers in here, before striding towards the counter to order.

‘Can I help you?’ asked the man behind the counter in Polish.

‘Err...’ I briefly tried to pull together the little Polish that I knew, hoping that it would be enough to order a meal.

Tak,’ I said, ‘err...dwóch burger proszę?’ I said, hoping that that was sufficient.

The man began rambling on—‘would you like fries with that,’ or something that I could pretty much predict. I said yes and no as appropriate, and then waited until he brought them back.

Whilst I waited, I focused. I’d learnt all these skills, which I’d thought to be crazy at the time, and now they were all coming in handy. Focusing...being able to tell, perhaps without even looking, one specific thing that was going on.

I heard the toilet door open, despite the fact that it was nearly noiseless and on the far side of the room, even over the hubbub of people chatting and moving around.

I glanced round to see Arjan moving out. He was looking at me, and when our eyes made contact he froze; a rabbit caught in the headlights.

He was planning to run away. His expression and his body language and his eyes all told me this as clearly as if I was reading a book.

The man returned with our meal, and I paid him, saying thank you and marching straight off after Arjan. He looked petrified to the spot.

‘Sit down,’ I ordered. I chose a table; deliberately one not too close to the door, and gave him his food. I wasn’t even particularly hungry, but I’d eat it at some point. I’d lived off worse before.

‘If I go to the ladies’, will you try and run away again?’ I asked.

‘No,’ he answered automatically.

‘You’re a crap liar,’ I commented.

‘Thanks.’ He was humourless and sarcastic.

It was these little, everyday things that were sometimes the most problematic. After all, he couldn’t exactly come into the ladies’ with me, and I wasn’t happy about leaving him out here.

But sometimes, I had to trust. More than trusting him, I trusted myself, and my own skill. If Arjan ran away, I would be able to track him in no time. I was just not about to let on about that yet.

Back in a sec,’ I murmured, the cheap, metal chair sliding against the tiled floor as I disappeared into the toilets.

I knew he was going to try and run away, but people were so predictable. The most likely option was that he would cross the road, however, as he would have to wait at the lights, he might consider otherwise. There was a pavement leading alongside the road, but it was straight and I would be able to see him from a long way back, so he was unlikely to try that.
The other option was into the car park, but car parks never usually went very far, so psychologically he would be expecting to come face to face with a fence or a wall out there.

So across the road was the best bet. And after that, he would probably head left, because that led into the town, and because it wasn’t in the direction of the car.

I finished in the toilet, quickly putting a little more volume into my hair—I’d decided I didn’t like it just being black—and left the room.

Unsurprisingly, Arjan was gone.

I ran outside, out into the car park area, and surveyed the area. That was another little tip I’d learnt—never just run anywhere; always look and examine first.

He had just crossed to the other side of the road.

Just like I’d thought. So predictable.

I ran like a dart after him, sprinting down the narrow pavement and getting to the lights, a little breathless, but undeterred. The first break I saw in the cars, I crossed halfway, and waited until I could go the rest of the distance.

It was at about this point that Arjan looked round and spotted me. He broke into a run, heading not left, but back in the direction we’d come from—that was understandable now he’d seen me, as he’d look for the side roads where he might be able to take cover.

I was there though. I was not an exceptionally fast runner, but I was certainly fast enough, and I’d built up plenty of stamina over the years.

He continued to fly away, less sure of his speed and his footing, until he reached the first side road on the left. He dived in there, taking cover rather foolishly. This, conversely, was almost exactly what I wanted.

I stepped into the road, which thankfully was deserted.

‘Arjan!’ I yelled. Still he continued to run between the multi-storey buildings that cast shadows over the silent road. The rolling thunder of the busy street nearby was distant, like a low grumble from an angry beast. Other than that, the area was quiet.

I raised the gun up until my arm was stretched straight out, level with my shoulder.

‘Arjan, turn around,’ I warned, my voice louder than I would have liked it to be. I didn’t want to draw attention to us.

He was nearing the end of the road now, but he still continued to run.

I shot.

I did not aim at him; instead I aimed at one of the wheelie bins standing not so far away on the edge of the pavement. It was of an ugly grey plastic, numbered 35, probably corresponding to the house it belonged to.

My aim was good, and it hit the large bin square on. The plastic split with a colossal crack and rubbish shot out of the neatly round hole in the side. It smoked slightly, making an electric fizzing sound, before dying down. Cracks spread like road maps across the side of the bin, which was ready to splinter and collapse any moment.

Arjan stopped dead on the spot.

‘Next time, it will be you,’ I warned, striding closer, not running, because I no longer needed to.

He turned to face me, and I still carried the gun, though I had lowered it a little. He eyed it warily.

‘It was a stun gun last time,’ he said.

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘I stunned the bin, but it’s a seriously powerful stun gun. I don’t think you’d fancy having this running through your veins.’

I saw him shudder at the mere thought of it, his wide, forest eyes looking into mine. I was prepared to do it. I didn’t want to, but I would if that’s what it came to. It wouldn’t be the first time.

‘Please,’ he murmured, and I noticed for the first time the sheer hopelessness in his voice. His eyes were watery and glazed over. ‘Please just let me go.’

I took a deep breath. ‘I’m afraid I can’t do that.’ For some reason, I suddenly felt sympathy for him like never before. I’d never been taken away from my life in quite the same way, but I could still somewhat empathise with how terrible it was to so suddenly lose everything. So maybe that was why I wasn’t so harsh on him as we walked in silence back to the car. I still held on to him, but when we got there I didn’t tie him up, and I didn’t get any angrier.

Because it wasn’t easy. All these years as a Dreamer had made me an alien to human emotion, and realising this now was like looking in the mirror for the first time in months. It was terrifying.

And yet, I still wouldn't change it for anything. Sometimes leaving everything behind was the only way to survive.