Chapter seven! Very excited if you're still reading this. Only two more chapters to go, in which the world will dissolve to fluff - but in the meantime, something vaguely action-based. (ugh. action sequences)
"So. What are we going to do?"
Silence reigns. Steven takes off his glasses, as if that might help him see Charlie better in the dark. He hasn't heard a sound from Charlie's corner of the room since - Steven realises he has no idea how much time has elapsed. It's probably only been a couple of hours. It feels like days - and now he wonders if Charlie's gone to sleep or somehow, somehow, escaped the little concrete cell and has left him here by himself. It'd probably serve him right.
"I said – "
"I heard you," says Charlie, quietly.
" – so?"
"Steven Meeks. Always wanting a plan. Tell you what, you're so good at inventing things, why don't you come up with a plan to get us out of here?"
Steven sighs. He did have a plan, once - but somehow his plans never accounted for Charlie punching people. He rubs the bridge of his nose. Sometimes that helps him think. Except right now, all it's helping him to think is that he's been a complete and utter idiot.
At least, he hopes so.
And when there's hope, anything can happen.
"Okay." says Steven. He waves his hands in the air – maybe his fingers will grasp at a plan neither of them has yet seen. "Why don't we – "
"Shh!" Charlie leaps across the room, and drags Steven to his feet. He claps his hand over Steven's mouth. "Listen." Hand still gagging Steven, Charlie leads him to the door, and presses his own ear against it. "Someone's coming." He pushes Steven into the corner, so that they'll be behind the door when it opens.
"Charlie – " whispers Steven. Charlie shuts him up with his hand again. By the tiniest margin, Steven decides against biting it. Now he can hear it, too – the heavy tread of someone approaching. When he listens closer, he thinks he can actually hear the pounding of Charlie's heart as well.
Maybe his other senses have been heightened in the dark. Maybe he just knows Charlie too well. He feels Charlie raise his free arm; hears the jingle of keys at the lock; sees the sliver of light, so bright it hurts his eyes. He's behind Charlie; he's not strong enough to stop him.
A man in navy blue – a guard of some kind – appears in the doorway.
"Yaaugh!"
Charlie thwacks the guard in the back of the neck – he's not a small man, but in despite of that – or maybe because of it – he goes down like a tower of cards, and the tray of food he's carrying flies across the room, pushing Steven's abandoned glasses out of the way. Charlie pins him down and grabs his keys, then pushes Steven out of the room and locks the guard inside.
"Charlie – "
Charlie looks up and down the narrow hallway. It's empty. "Which way did we come in?"
"Uh – from the left – "
"Great." Charlie drags Steven to the right.
"He was just bringing us food – they'd probably have released us by the afternoon – it was just procedure – where are we going, anyway?"
"Not that way!" Charlie spots two more guards at the end of another hallway. He grabs Steven by the wrist, and yanks him down through a second doorway. Too late – they hear one of the guards shout in surprise. "Where are the stairs?"
"Sort of – I think sort of central to the building. We want to be heading west."
"West?" Charlie turns and flips his hair out of his face. "Which would be - ?"
"The way we're going now."
"Come on!"
They run further and further into the warren of the building, with Steven giving directions. Sometimes the guards sound far away. Sometimes they sound dangerously close. There's definitely more than one pair of them on the chase. Once, Steven actually sees the blue blob of a guard, before he's pulled around the corner by Charlie – and then he hears the bullet whistling past him, lodging into the wall next to him.
The Russians mean business.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" asks Steven.
"Who, me?" Charlie grins. "Stairs!"
He hustles Steven into the fire escape. Steven starts taking the stairs down, but Charlie drags him the other way.
"We're going to the roof?"
"Yes!"
"Are you insane?"
But Steven has no choice except to follow Charlie, tripping and scrambling in an effort to keep up as Charlie takes the stairs two at a time. They manage three flights till a bang below lets them know that they're being followed again. Steven feels distinctively like a rabbit, being hunted down with his heart beating in his chest at a million beats a minute.
And then it's cold, and they're not running anymore. Steven wipes sweat from his eyes – it doesn't help his vision, as the wind whips against his face.
"Come on, genius!" yells Charlie, darting around the rooftop. "Where do we go from here?"
"We could let the guards take us to the front door," says Steven, trying to escape the blast of cold wind in the shelter of the doorway.
"Rise above your name, Meeks!" Charlie whirls away from the side of the rooftop that sits flush with the next door bank – there are no windows, and the wall is too smooth to escape that way. The apartment block on the other side seems more promising, with its myriad balconies, open windows, fire ladders, and washing lines; however, there is an alleyway the width of at least three cars between the apartment block and the rooftop.
"It'd be easier if I had my toolbox and notebook," mumbles Steven. Gingerly he stands on the edge of the rooftop where Charlie is surveying the apartments.
"It'd be easier if I had my boots and wings – but if I did, we wouldn't be in this mess, would we?" Charlie looks over his shoulder. "They'll be here any moment, Stevie! Quick!"
"What?"
"Do you think we can jump this?"
Steven grabs Charlie's arm in surprise as the easterly wind nearly blows him off the edge of the building.
"Are you kidding?"
"You know how fast I can run, how strong I am, how much I weigh. You know how much you weigh. You know about – trajectories and things." Charlie holds Steven by the shoulders and stares intently at him. "Look. The apartment block. Do you think we can jump it?"
Steven turns to the apartments – a blur of squares and colour, an indeterminable distance away. "I'm not sure if – "
"It's a simple question, Stevie. Do you trust me?"
Steven turns back, flabbergasted. "You want to talk about that now?"
"Now, yes, now, now would be a very good time to talk about it, don't you think?" He walks back to the fire escape. "They'll be here in two seconds, Stevie. Do you trust me?"
"I – "
"Do you trust me?"
The door opens behind Charlie. Steven sees two dark blue blobs holding small black blobs in a way that makes them look suspiciously like rifles.
"Yes."
In the blink of an eye, Charlie runs across the rooftop, grabs Steven around the waist, and leaps over the edge.
