I glance over at the other man, but his
face is hidden behind the bodies of those beside him. A few broken phrases
reach my ears.
“I gave you time . . . the city is . .
. Mr. Velde can’t save you now . . .”
My eyes widen at the sound of the name
and I gasp out loud. Could he mean my
father? I sense Owen glancing at me and then squinting back at the
man, trying to decipher who the man is. Unfortunately my gasp echoed off the
walls of the alley and right to one of the man’s ears. He glances over at Owen
and I. I try to duck my head back behind the doorway in time, but he definitely
sees me. He is shouting at us, telling us we shouldn’t be here. I feel distant.
It is too surreal, I can’t grasp what is happening. Owen grabs my arm and yanks
me out of the doorway. I see my feet running beside his, but I don’t hear our
footsteps. The man is still shouting at us, shouting to stop, but we keep
going. As we round the bend and run down another alley, all my senses come back
to me like the force of a thousand bricks falling on top of me.
“STOP! CITY POLICE!” I glance back, my heart now in
my throat. That man is not a cop. Cops don’t dress in suits.
“MY ASS YOU’RE A COP!” Owen shouts back and picks
up the speed, practically carrying me as he surpasses my maximum speed. My feet
are clumsy beneath me, and my breath is coming out ragged, each breath more
difficult than the last.
“Owen!” I croak. My throat is too tight.
Owen glances down at me seeing my wide eyes, tears
streaming across my ghostly face. He says something under his breath and whips
me around a corner. We crash into the wall, his body pressed tightly up against
my own. I grab his jacket with tight fists, and shove my face into his
shoulder. I cough and sputter in breaths, trying to muffle the sound. I know
the men will catch up soon. We need to run again.
