The man latched
onto my wrist again. “No need for thanks? You saved my life. The least I could
do would be to buy you a drink—I think I need a whiskey at least.”
I continued
forward, swinging my arm as I tried to free myself from the man’s hold. I
couldn’t get into the air with someone hanging off me. “No thanks, I don’t
drink.” Breaking his grip I broke into a run.
“A coffee then?”
The man jogged along beside me, then cut in front of me, blocking my path.
I stopped, but
checked over my shoulder to see if anyone had appeared at the far end of the
alley. “Look,” I scanned the space in front of me, calculating whether or not I
had the room to side step the man and take off. “It was nothing. Forget it and
definitely don’t mention it.”
“Of course I
won’t, but—”
“Good.” I
knocked shoulders with the man as I pushed past him. Time was wasting and I
needed to get in the air, it was a miracle that the man with the gun hadn’t
caught up with us already. I started to jog.
“I can help
you.”
I tripped and
stumbled into a pile of boxes, but managed to stay upright. Pausing only a
second to catch my breath, I continued down the alley. If I couldn’t get air born,
I could walk to the nearest subway station and take public transit like a
normal person. “I don’t need help.”
The man caught
up to me, but rather than trying to get me to stop, he kept pace with me
instead. “I know what you are, I can—”
“I’m a librarian,
nothing more,” I said as I reached for a cigarette. “The only way you can help
me is by saying nothing, just like how I won’t tell anyone you
were…trespassing, at least.”
“I can help
you,” the man said quietly.
We walked the
remaining length of the alley. I smoked, while my companion remained silent.
When we reached the street, I dropped what remained of my cigarette to the
ground, then viciously stomped it out with my heel. “I don’t want help, I don’t
need saving, I’m just Claire, nothing more.”
Then I turned,
took two hard steps generating as much momentum as I could, and launched myself
into the air. I shot up as fast and as hard as I could to get out of easily
identifiable range. It was risky to take off from the street where I could be
seen, at least it was late Friday night, and most of the pedestrians out were
probably drunk. I had to get home. I was starving. The two jet-paced
accelerations this evening had drained me. At this point I’d be lucky if I made
it back to my apartment without tumbling from the sky.
To be continued...look for more of the story next Tuesday, March 25th, 2014
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