Chapter 11

I could go on about the rest of my day but it was really boring. There wasn't any new kid bullying or any drama that's worthy of retelling. The only reason I hated school so much is I was so used to being on the run. Always looking for food, gas, anything that would help us see the next day.

Since coming to Alaska I've been working in the garage, fixing cars and helping Jag the best I can with keeping us fed. When I'm not doing those things, I practice my flying. I don't want to brag but I'm practically a pro now.

Surviving on the run was never easy but it's what I think I was made for. It just comes naturally to me. Like fixing cars. In class I sit there bored out of my mind and find myself fidgeting and my mind is going in a thousand directions at once. It's almost as bad a waiting for Jag to come back when we were in cages.

So, when they let me out at the end of the day I flew back to the house. Walking in the front door I dropped my bag with a heavy thump by the door. I then strolled into the kitchen and grabbed a soda from the fridge, sighing contently after the first sip.

My head was still reeling from how boring the day was so I decided to clear it the best way I knew how.

I went to the garage where there was an old sedan on jacks waiting for me. I pulled over the small wooden dolly and a tool box from my work bench and collected my tools before laying down on the dolly and sliding myself under the car.

It wasn't anything huge, just some tuning that I needed to do before I could give the car back to the owner, but it felt nice to be working.

Before I knew it, I heard a voice call out from inside the house.

"Kid" it asked. "You home?"

If you haven't guessed it was Jag.

Being that I was under the car with a tube full of fluids in my left hand and the ratchet to tighten the tube in the other, I couldn't just walk away to talk to Jag and I didn't want to hurt my throat.

So, I took the ratchet and clanked it against the drive axil to my left before returning to work.

A minute later I saw Jags feet as he entered the garage.

"How long have you been in here?" He asked me. "None of the food has been taken from the fridge. Its way past dinner time."

I just finished locking down the tube and checked the small, cheap, wristwatch I had.

10:56

Dam, I've been working longer then I thought.

I pushed myself out from under the car and sat up, Jag standing over me with a small smile on his face.

"How was your first day?" He asked me as I stood up and walked over to my tool box to put away my tools.

I shook my head to show my displeasure as I placed the box back on my work bench.

"I'm sure you just need an adjustment period." Jag told me as I grabbed a rag off the bench and whipped the grease off my hands.

I shrugged and put the rag back before turning to face him.

He smirked at me and said "You know your coated in crap, right?"

I gave him an evil smile and held my arms out to my sides in a gesture that said 'Give me a hug'

"No." He said flatly as I crept towards him. "Kid, no!"

He tried to make a run for it but I grabbed him by the waist and gave him a tight hug, smearing grease all over him.

"AH!" He sighed in disgust. "This ain't gona wash out, is it?"

I let go and silently chuckled as he held his arms out to avoid spreading the grease from his torso to his arms.

He looked at me and cocked an eyebrow at me.

"Oh, you think this is funny?" He asked me, with a joking tone.

I nodded.

Without another word he tackled me and proceeded to tickle me till I couldn't breathe saying things like "I bet you find it real funny." In a friendly tone.

After Jag finished torturing me (tickling), We took showers and made ourselves a microwavable chicken dinner. It wasn't much but it was nice to have a full belly and Jag there for company.

The days went on like this for a while, I don't know how long. A few months, I think. School every week day, fixing things on weekends, and working in flying practice where I could. It was a quiet life but it was a nice one. Until one day in the early spring, that is.

I was just finishing up my dinner and preparing to head into the garage for some work when I heard the distant sound of gunshots.

"Kid?" Jag called out in alarm, sprinting into the kitchen from the living room.

I looked at him, the same alarm he was showing was all over my face as well.

Had they found us? Is the lab after us again?

The gunshots were coming closer.

"Follow me." Jag said, heading towards the garage.

I nodded and began to follow when there was a nock on the front door.

We froze in panic, staring at the front door, which had the shades drawn so we couldn't see who it was.

There was another knock as the gunshots died down.

Jag crouched down behind a cabinet as I did the same.

Jag threw his arm around me in a protective way as the front door came crashing in.

As I tried to think of what to do a boy about Jag's age came in, dressed head to toe in black combat gear and holding an assault rifle.