I don't know why, but I follow Ryan. Something about him makes you want to trust him. I am dressed for the journey, in sofees, a tee-shirt, and flat-footed sneakers from my window-sitting expedition.
Ryan starts out at a medium jog, jumping lightly over small obstacles and looking over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure I can keep up. No sweat. I am the fastest runner on the track team at my school, and I am told I have incredible stamina. As for the jumping, well, everyone can do that.
"Are we going to keep this up all night, or do something a little more challenging?" I tease.
"Alright, if you want to pick up the pace, I will." Ryan smirks and takes off at the verge of a sprint until I am racing to keep up with him. He levers himself off of walls and easily leaps over piles of raw material as if it were nothing.
He doesn't let up an inch until we reach the abandoned construction site. I can see a dim light coming from a makeshift building in the middle of the lot.
I'm over here dying for oxygen, and Ryan hasn't even broke a sweat! "What the hell!"
"That's the life of a runner, Lay. Get used to it."