No Place for Females

Chapter Twenty-One

 I was doing well. At least, that's what it felt like. Of the few people I had passed, a few of the men had stared at me, but no one had seemed particularly interested in me otherwise. It wasn't that I blended in, but that most of these people had witnessed too much conflict. All they wanted to do was to keep their heads down and avoid trouble.

I passed a group of women scurrying down the street with a young man. The man's gaze lingered on me as I walked past him. I pretended not to have noticed. I began to walk a little bit faster. After a while, I glanced back and I saw that he had broken away from the group and was following me. I picked up the pace. I could feel my heart racing. I could hear his footfalls behind me.

I ducked down a narrow side street and started to trot, looking for a place to hide. When I glanced over my shoulder, I saw that the man was still following me. He was speaking into a phone.

I needed to get off the street and into a hiding place. This was too dangerous. If I could just get away long enough to make another call, maybe I would be able to reach Ben. When I turned onto another street, it turned out to be walled on both sides, without so much as a doorway I could duck into. The man was gaining on me.

Screw this. I started to run. I couldn't tell if he was running after me, but I kept running as fast as I could.

      I turned a corner. Coming down the street was a group of men. They shouted at me. Though I had no idea what they were saying, their faces told me all that I needed to know. When they started running towards me, I turned to run back the other way, but the other man was coming from that direction.

I turned and ran as fast as I could down another street. I had no idea where I was and I could hear the men gaining on me, yelling, calling out something over and over.

Then I felt the first bullet whiz by my head.

Time then seem to slow down. I was running, but it felt like it wasn't fast enough. It was difficult because the rifle was slamming against my back at every trot and I was still holding onto my pistol. There was no time to turn around and shoot. And I wasn't that good unless I was at close range or I had my red sight.

I ran for my life.

And I was getting tired, quick.

I heard what must have been bullets being shot. But nothing hit me. I'm not sure why. I just kept running down the street in a zig zag motion. I turned down another corner and kept going.

I couldn't keep this up much longer. I needed a place to hide.

I ran past a garbage heap that was pretty high. A tarp was lying haphazardly over it.

I stopped, gasping for air.

There was no where else to hide. I needed to regroup.

If I kept running, soon I would be shot, and that would be it.

I needed to get into this heap.

And I needed to do it now.

A putrid stench burned my nostrils and I struggled not to gag as I climbed onto the heap, lay down and covered myself with the tarp. Something wet and cold was pressed into my cheek. And it was moving. I clamped my mouth shut, covered my nose and laid as still as I could. A few seconds later, I heard running and shouting.

Then for awhile nothing. I laid there for as long as I could, not moving, trying to not breathe or throw up.

And I thought. What could I do to get out of here?

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Ben kept his face and his mouth covered as he drove the bike into the city. Chaos was occurring in the streets. He didn't know why but he knew that every mile he went, he was digging himself into deeper trouble. But he wouldn't let himself consider that. He kept his mind focused.