Author's note: I am currently rewriting all of the current eight chapters to improve writing quality. Most of the edits will be grammar corrections and sentence structure corrections which will hopefully make the reading experience much more enjoyable. I will be uploading these as new chapters (and deleting the old chapters one by one) as the some of the followers of the story have said they would like to reread the story since it has been a very long time since it was updated last. Any feedback and constructive criticism of the new writing is greatly appreciated and invited. I hope you all enjoy my rewriting of the chapters and the continuation of the story once that point is reached. Happy 2016 everyone! May this year be kind and prosperous to you all. : )
-V
Charging around the corner, my feet practically flew on top of the slick, water-stained pavement. I heard two gunshots ring out behind me like an air raid siren, making my already pounding heart, thunder. I tried my best to run in an unpredictable pattern in hopes that it would make me a harder target to hit. As my left foot smacked down on the slippery pavement, I could feel the outer edge of my sneaker hit the walkway instead of the sole. This caused my ankle to tremble, rolling out from underneath me. Flailing, I desperately staggered forward, praying that my tweaked ankle would not collapse.
I could hear the sound of hammering feet not far behind me. Mentally imagining a gun being cocked and aimed, I tried to calculate the possible results. My pursuers were running; that already lowered the likelihood of them firing off a deadly, or severely debilitating, shot. Considering they were releasing gunfire on a running target (read: me), their chances of hitting me continued to plummet. It was even more unlikely that it would be a major organ. While I was confident of my computations, I decided to take a precaution. Seconds before the trigger was pulled, I hiked my backpack up to protect my head. Most people probably wouldn't consider that as playing it safe, but for me, that was about as safe as it got. The speeding bullet whizzed through the air 5 inches to the left of me. Flinching away, I tried to run faster.
My lungs and the muscles in my legs were beginning to burn. Every breath I drew in became a struggle, and a sharp pain began to manifest itself in my sides. Even with my years of training, running for more than eight or nine blocks at top speed was beginning to wear on me. I quickly drew close to the end the alley which opened out onto the main road. Mentally, I could see a map of the London streets and alleys laid out. There were two possibilities: turn left or turn right. If I barreled around the left corner, I would emerge into a street with numerous automobiles, stores, and flats. The right would lead me closer to businesses. It was more likely that a pedestrian would call the police in a well-populated area rather than in an industrial area. In this situation, many would want to have the police come to their aid, but for me, that was the last thing I needed. I practically flew around the right corner, my pursuers not far behind.
What came into view planted a dead weight in my stomach. The exact issue that I had been trying to avoid now lay right in front of me. There had been a car accident approximately 15 minutes ago, judging by the number of services that had arrived. One of the services that had arrived on the scene was a police car. Damn it. There was no possible scenario in which the scene of a sprinting teenager followed by two armed men would go unnoticed. Before I could switch my path I was already half way around the right corner. I scrambled to find an alternate route, but after a quick sweep of the street, I realized there were only two plausible options. I could either attempt to reverse my course and practically walk into the waiting arms of my pursuers, or I could take the risk and continue my path. While the possibility of being shot was quite bleak, if I handed myself over to the police, all the previous risks and efforts I had taken for the mission would go to waste.
I frantically wheeled around on my heels and sprinted to the left. No air entered or left my nose, and I could feel my heart stutter. Everything now relied on luck; which was not something that I liked to depend on even though it kept me alive more than half the time. Before I heard it I already knew what would happen. I knew that the good fortune that had followed me for so many years was now bidding me farewell and showing itself out the door. The sound of a gunshot cracked through the air. Piercing through my jean leg, the bullet ripped burrowed into my thigh. The pain poisoned my nerves, branching out across my lower body. A chilling voice whispered and seeped through my brain."It's over," it rattled. I crumpled to the ground, overcome by the pain. Snapping my head around to look behind me, I saw that my stalkers were no less than 6 or 7 ft away. My mind screamed desperately at my legs and feet to operate. I was now haphazardly crawling forward in a blind panic, my hands clawing at the wet pavement.
Through my blurry, sweat-filled vision, I saw an open doorway. With the last ounces of adrenaline that I could muster, I launched myself forward and crashed through the doorway, slamming the door shut behind me. Using the back of the door as support, I collapsed to the floor. I was barely conscious now and could only faintly hear the commotion outside. Grimly, I smiled to myself. My pursuers had attracted the police, but I had slipped through their grasps. Smudges of blacks and grays began to flit around the peripherals of my vision, and a radio-like static began to roar in my ears. The last thing I saw was a petite, elderly woman standing in a flat's doorway to my right. Then all was black.