On The Run

Chapter Five - "Fearsome Comfort"

Chloe

“Get out!” the balding Chinese man yelled, raising his fist at me.

He wouldn’t have discovered me if it hadn’t been for the hooded guy searching for car parts. They’d been strolling around the junkyard, so I’d hidden in the office, underneath the table. A crane was dropping another car in the yard, and the noise prevented me from hearing the guard walking back in, in search of his nightstick. He’d been muttering under his breath, wondering where he’d put it, only for me to look down at my foot, to see it lying there.

Unfortunately, so had he, and after his expression broke into one of complete surprise, he’d yelled, and dragged me out by my bag handle, thinking I’d gone in to rob the place or something. I swallowed hard as he picked up the phone to call the cops, firmly holding on to my arm.

And then, the power went out.

In my entire life, I’d never been more relieved to be in complete darkness. I pulled my arm from his grasp and darted out of there, using the moonlight to make my way across the yard.

“If I ever see you here again, you’ll be sorry!” he went on yelling. I walked out of the already ajar entrance, but not before I glanced back at the one place I’d been most comfortable in, in a very long while.

And that’s when I spotted the hooded guy standing by the power unit, looking right at me.

For a second, I thought he might have been the same hooded guy I’d bumped into the night before, but it was dark and I couldn’t be so sure. I would’ve gone over to thank him, but the whole point of him turning off the power in the first place was so that I could get away as fast as possible. And I could see the guard, flashlight in hand, coming down to the gates, to make certain that I was gone.

The hooded guy turned away, and before I could see where he was headed, I jogged off to find a new place of comfort.

I jogged down the sidewalk, counting my steps, to distract myself from the pain in my legs from being cramped for so long.

I’d used the rest of my money for a blanket, and food, so I was pretty much back to square one. It had barely been two weeks since I’d run away and I still couldn’t find my footing. It was like everywhere I turned, there was an obstacle. And with the increasing number, I had a feeling it wouldn’t be very long until I couldn’t get them out of my way.

I slowed down as I turned a corner, glancing back again and again to make sure that I was still . . . well, I wouldn’t say safe exactly. It was just as I was thinking this that I walked by Gregory’s Bar. I’d spotted it earlier on, and had made a note to stay as far away as possible from the entire area – Brooklyn and alcohol did not seem like a very good combination – but in this merry-go-round called Brooklyn, I’d been walking around in circles continuously, that it was no surprise I found myself right back where I’d started.

I spun around slowly, and began to head in the opposite direction.

“Hey!” a deep voice boomed from behind me.

My heart began to race, as I walked on faster. I was in so much pain, I could barely move.

“Hey, where you running off to?” I heard the man say, as he whistled. In my baggy sweatshirt – with my hood up, by the way – and worn out jeans, I hoped I looked enough like a guy that he’d just back off.

I felt like my knees were about to give away, as I turned a corner. And with every step, I could feel him gaining on me. My heart sped up even more, and I heard his footsteps right behind me. I ducked into an alley and crawled behind the dumpster, feeling the cuts in my palms burst open. I saw his large shadow block the moonlight, which shined in through to the alley, and my breathing quickened.