Other Lives
I Run, You Chase
Jarod took a deep breath, then slipped through the shadows, a gun in his hand and adrenaline pumping at breakneck speed through his system. He was sure this was the way it had to be. He had simmed this a dozen times, Pretended it be sure, to be certain.
Miss Parker was sleeping, alone and vulnerable, utterly unaware of his presence. He would get to watch her wake, watch her stretch slowly for the sky, watch her dark lashes flutter on her fair cheeks as her eyes batted open. He would see the confusion in her eyes as she realized she was not alone, and then the shock when she realized it was he who attended her awakening. The fear would melt quickly into fury, into icy, indomitable rage.
She might try to call someone to assist her. Miss Parker inspired amazing loyalty in people. Even as she was mean and sarcastic, haughty and slightly terrifying, she was also a good person, and so incredibly kind. She hid it well, but people were still drawn to her. She hid everything, but he was the Pretender and he could see right through her. Plus, they had grown up together, so he knew her deeper secrets.
He reached the window of the room she slept in. He couldn't frighten her, so he didn't dare make any sound now. He had to be silent or she'd be warned, and possibly shoot him. At the very least.
The window latch turned on a well oiled hinge, probably kept up in case she needed to make a quick and silent getaway herself. The window eased up, an inch at a time, and it felt like it was taking years to get it done.
When that was finally out of the way, he hoisted himself up and through the window, silent and lithe like a jungle cat. She would never see this coming.
He approached the bed slowly, the woman's body unmoving beneath the blankets. With a grin, he leaned over her and, in a soft, crooning tone, murmured, "Wakey, wakey, Miss Parker." When he didn't get so much as a grumpy mutter for his efforts, Jarod reached out to touch her shoulder, to touch her.
His hand encountered softness, but it was the softness of piled cotton, not a warm body. The mound of covers he'd touched slipped with the slight pressure and collapsed. A net fell over his head and the Pretender was caught, trapped like a rat in a maze.
"Parker!" He shouted his frustration to the sky just as he noticed the black and white stationary paper in the jumble of fallen quilts. He wished vehemently that someone had taught him how to swear.
It was a picture of a cartoon animal of some sort. Its head was surrounded with hearts and its striped black tail seemed to be wafting a cloud of greenish smoke. He stared at it in confusion. Miss Parker had added a notation above it, which read "you", along with her note that said, "Nice try, Pretender."
On the back side of the card was a creature that looked somehow terrified and disdainful at once, and it appeared to be acquiring a painted white strip by climbing under a white fence. Jarod was baffled at this, as much as at the little note above it that said "me". This side of the card also had a message. "I run, you chase," it said.
Jarod hung his head, once more defeated. At this rate, he was never going to get the Chairman's runaway daughter back to the Centre.