By Phantom Chajo
Chapter 2 - The Hunters
It was about a block and a half when I felt the eyes of my hunters on me. That crawling sensation between one's shoulder-blades. The expected feeling of a knife or a bullet to come out of the dark.
Pausing as if to look into a store front, I use what reflections I could see to examine the street behind me. The buildings in this area were too tall to see their tops reflected in the window. No cars on the road, no pedestrians on the sidewalks. Or rather, no one that would help me if something happened. Raking my hair out of my face from where the wind blew it, I glanced behind me. Several men, trailed about a half a block behind. To the opposite side, several more were coming towards me.
As far as I could tell, I was in deep trouble. Especial since my empathy, and telepathy were too short ranged to make contact with anyone at home. Even Firebird or Psion. Both were probably deeply asleep right now.
The best I could hope for was a passing police cruiser. But Murphy and his Laws were against me this night.
Extending my telepathy and empathy outwards, to brush against the minds of my hunters, so that I could at least have a fighting chance to escape. I shuddered at what I sensed. Dark pleasures, anticipation, lust, fear, and Hatred. Such overwhelming hatred slammed into me that it took my breath away.
I put a hand out to steady myself against the glass, pulling back from the feel of these hunter's minds as if scalded. Glancing left then right though the curtain of my loose hair, I narrowed my eyes and studied each group. What they displayed scared me more then one would believe.
They wore the Symbol of the F.O.H.
I almost wished that HE would appear. At least I knew what he would do to me.
Use your head, Fight or flight is your options, which best suits you?
It was Rook's voice in my head. A memory from one of her, Kitty's and Taz's self-defense lessons they insisted they teach us all. I might have bitched and grumbled and whined about it. But now I am ever so thankful.
Taking a deep calming breath I slowly let it out then turned around and looked the area over. A few yards away was an alleyway entrance. I could make out the fire escape ladder going up the side of the building. If I made it I could head to the roof and from there take flight. Unless they had some means of taking to the air themselves, I would be safe. Or in theory I should be.
I think I took them by surprise when I went from a dead standstill to a full out run in a split second. One of the advantages of being so tall is that you have a longer stride.
I was ever so lucky that the roadway was clear of ice and snow. Otherwise I might not have had such good luck. But as soon as I hit the sidewalk, I knew my luck had ran out.
A slick patch of ice sent me sliding, only to stumble when I had traction again. I rammed into the building, hard enough to wind me a moment. A pain radiated out from my left shoulder, but I ignored it. I was good at mastering my pain. I had two years of practice under the 'loving' hands of my so called Father.
I heard the yells of my hunters as they came after me.
Not looking back I vanished into the darkness of the alleyway. Making another dash for the fire escape ladder that rested about four feet over my head. I managed to grab it with both hands. Hissing as my flesh came in contact with the ice cold metal. I wasn't wearing gloves. Another mistake to add to my growing list for the night.
Scrambling up the ladder then up the fire escape itself, trying to be careful of the patches of ice and snow that had built up on it. I was also trying to be somewhat quiet. To me it sounded like a herd of steel shod children tap dancing on sheet metal. I don't know what the Hunters heard.
Pain throbbing though my shoulder warned me I did more then just bruise it. But if I survive, I'll worry with it then. And if I don't survive, then it won't matter will it?