Chapter 37 On the Run

Alex breezes quickly through the decayed city. Not even the soles of his shoes make a sound though we hurry, running through spots with no cover.

My shoes slam into the crumbling tar surfaces when we run past open spaces, but he never shushes me or makes me run quieter. We push forward, walking quickly for the most part, because after the sprints my breath comes hard.

By midday, we're close to the edge of the city and surrounded by the longest abandoned buildings showing the worst signs of decay. The rays of the sun bounces off of all the city surfaces-- the walls of the buildings, the concrete and tar covering the ground. My body sweats in places where skin meets skin, like my armpits which have probably stained my shirts with dirt and dust from the city sticking to the dampness.

With the sun high overhead, Alex stops us in a small alley between two old buildings close together that offer protective shade. He takes the water canteen out of the bag and hands it to me to drink from first as he looks around, listening like a cat with twitchy ears.


So far, things have been clear. If there are people looking for me, it's possible we've outrun them and are ahead. Alex takes no chances though.

The water, slightly lukewarm, fills my mouth and I swallow it with one big gulp that hurts. It's too tempting to drink more when I know we need to ration it, so I put the lid back on and tear my eyes away from it to resist the temptation. Alex needs some too.

I look up at him but don't call out as he cautiously steps to the edge of the alley. It looks like he's listening for something so I don't make a move or a sound. Alex stops just as another man comes into view.

The other man glares at Alex and crosses his arms. "Aw, fuck. It's you." He's not a tall man. His body is thick with bands of muscle covered in an old dirty tee shirt. Around his neck he wears a thick collar. He doesn't look happy to see Alex. Not until he notices me.

I haven't made a move, but the second he sees me, his face brightens, and the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Instinctively, I take a step back though Alex stands between us.


"I let you live. Let us pass." Alex stands tall, his hands balled at his sides.

The man scowls at that. It's clear that he won't back down.

Alex takes a step towards him and a slightly dazed look crosses the face of the man in front of Alex, but then he shakes it off. "That shit didn't work last time either." He shapes his lips as if to whistle, and before he has a chance, Alex is on him, slamming his fist into his face and knocking him back.

I run to the edge of the alley and stop just short of leaving it as if it will provide some means of protection for me if there is anyone else near by. The man grabs onto Alex with a grunt and tries to pull him down to the ground. Alex fights him, refusing to go down, though I can see him straining against the grip of the larger man.


When I hear the strained chuckle of the stranger, I snap out of it. Alex needs my help somehow. I look around for something I can hold in my hands and use against him. Despite all the abandoned buildings, there are no scraps laying around that I can use for weapons.

I'm half ready to attack him with my bare fists when the stranger laughs again. "Pretty little girl. The others'll like her." His breath is heavy as he struggles with Alex. He sucks in a large breath and expends it calling for the others. "Hey! Where are you, bastards?"

I freeze and listen for the footsteps of others approaching. There is no movement elsewhere on the street except for Alex and the stranger.

Alex suddenly breaks free, twisting his body with a groan and sliding out of the grasp of the larger man. He pulls a knife from somewhere on his body and, using the same momentum that let him free, jumps forward and attacks.

The stranger is off balance and on the defensive, using his forearms to deflect the attacks. Alex moves forward quickly, striking fiercely. A normal person would be torn to shreds, but the stranger doesn't look to have much more than scratches. Alex is aiming to maim, possibly to kill. This is like a more intense version of the fighting I'd seen when he was just playing. This is the real thing. And he can't lose.


Alex aims for the throat, but the large forearms block him. The one time he does get an opening, the knife nicks off the collar and scrapes against the skin under the stranger's chin and up to his ear. That bleeds right away, much more than his forearms. It's probably why he wears the collar. His throat is a weak spot not covered in bands of muscle.

They move too fast. It's difficult for my brain to keep up with the movement. Not until Alex finds a chance to smash his fist into the face of the other guy causing him to trip backwards and fall down. Alex stomps on the man's face hard enough to make the back of his head bounce off the cement.



The stranger stops moving then, and Alex kneels by him, the same way Jimmy did that first week so long ago, with his knife poised over the man's throat ready to cut over the collar. I gasp as I realize what he intends to do.

Alex turns at that. The man on the ground isn't moving, but he still breathes. If Alex doesn't do this, he will probably come after us. I realize this. So I look away. I turn away and walk into the alley to pick up the bag with the food and water in it.

As I toss it over my shoulder, the soft sound of dried grass crunching underfoot make me look up. Alex stands at the end of the alley, a hand on the building.


"I didn't." He says.

"He'll follow us. Won't he?"

I step over to him, checking him over for wounds or bruises. Other than a rumpled shirt with some spots of blood, most likely from his opponent, there isn't much else that I can see.

"He won't."

Alex sounds very sure about it. The body still lays behind him, unmoving. Alex tries to take the bag from me, but I push his hand away and encourage him to lead on. This is our last day in the city. Tonight we'll be sleeping out in the open. In the Wildlands proper.


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