I don't know why I ended up in the centre of London. I just did. I found myself weaving in and out of the tourists stopping to take photos, and the business men rushing around whilst on the phone. I sat down, my head in my hands, and just listened to the buzz of people around me. What were their lives like? What were their names? I bet none of them looked at me and thought I was a spy. I bet none of them did that. I didn't know what to do. Where to go. How could I escape MI6's clutches? I couldn't, that was the answer. If I went back and I refused, they would move me to an orphanage. Then, if I still didn't help, no doubt they would do something worse until I gave in. What a mess, Alex, I thought, what a mess you've gotten yourself into.
Night fell and I was still in the centre of London. I couldn't go back. I couldn't go back to that life. I didn't want to stay in the crowds of tourists, so I moved away from London's attractions and into the dark alleys. It wasn't one of my best ideas ever because now, I was completely and utterly alone. The silence was welcome and all I could hear was the sound of my footsteps. I didn't think about the things that could go wrong at the time, I was just glad to be away from it all. Away from everything. I didn't dare turn my phone on, afraid that MI6 would be tracking me, but there were probably a million missed calls from Jack unless MI6 had already taken care of her.
If you've ever been out at night alone, then you'll probably know what I'm talking about. The jumpy feeling you get when someone walks by you and the fear welling inside when you hear angry shouts. I wasn't in the best part of London and it was getting late, so drunks and trouble makers weren't hard to come by. By the time I realised this, I was pretty much lost in the back streets. Smart move, I thought, real smart move. You'd think after all my experience with MI6, I'd have bit more common sense, but I wasn't thinking straight so I sat down on the street and moped. What was I doing? Waiting for daylight? But something found me before daylight even got out of bed.
I heard the breaking of glass and the sound of people laughing and shouting in the distance. But still I sat on the cold ground, not making a move. The voices came closer and I could just make out a few slurred words. My heart beat quickened a little and I hoped the people would just think that I was another drunk or that maybe they wouldn't notice me at all. There were two men, dressed in dark clothes, pushing and shoving each other as the wobbled down the alley. They wouldn't see me, I would just be another shadow to them, another dark shape in an alley full of dark shapes. I closed my eyes and waited for them to pass. "What you doing down here, kid?" Said a hard voice, the man's hot breath streaming down my neck. I didn't say anything. "You aren't one of us, are you?" I made to get up but strong arms pushed me back down.
"Look, he doesn't even have a family. Well, I'll tell you something kid," said the other man, "you aren't getting away with sitting on our street." I heard a snick, and then a few seconds later a small knife was pressed to my throat. I was such an idiot. I had to move. These guys were drunk, I could take them, right? I tried to get up again but the knife was pressed even harder into my skin so I sat, motionless. Drunk men don't know what they're doing, I thought. "What do you think we should do with him?" Said one of the men.
"Oh, I don't know..." said the one that held the knife, "just teach the kid a lesson." Before I had time to brace myself or think about what was going to happen the knife came away from my throat and in a split second was thrust into my stomach. I gasped at the sudden pain, I think I was a little beyond crying out. Then the man moved the knife through my flesh, making a cut a few inches long and a few inches deep. You have no idea how much that hurts. The pain streaked through me like lightning. Fast and sharp. All my muscles tensed and my lungs seemed to seize up, so I couldn't yell, just take short shallow breaths. "Just because you two got yourselves drunk, doesn't mean you have to go hurting innocent people." Said a new voice, cold and hard. Funny thing was, it was a girl's voice. The men instantly leaped back to face the girl. The girl with a gun. "Now, I want you to go away, back home or to the next pub. To be honest, I'm not bothered where you go, just get yourselves out of here before you regret it."
"Look," began one of the men.
"I don't think you're stupid enough to try anything on me, even in this state. So scram, before I get a good enough look at your faces to remember them in the morning." The two men ambled off down the street, obviously this girl had some influence on them. But what? She looked about 14, with long brown hair and glittering blue eyes, but that's all I noticed before I closed my eyes against the pain again. The girl knelt down next to me and said "Let me see how badly you're hurt." I was reluctant to move my arm from my wound but I did and I heard the girl mutter a curse. "I'm going to call an ambulance-"
"No." I said, panicking. As soon as I was with the police or in hospital, MI6 would find me. "No, please, you can't."
"You'll bleed to death! Hey, I don't know if you have a death wish or something but I can't leave you here like this. You can kill yourself some other day but you're not doing it on my watch."
"Please, you can't call an ambulance." But I didn't seem to have much choice. It was that, or die.
"Bit of a painful way to go isn't it?" Said the girl.
"I...I don't want to die. It's just...just that I can't let them find me." Mixed emotions flickered across the girls face then but they only lasted a few seconds and then she said "run away, have you?" I nodded "I've been there but...look, it can't be that bad, trust me. If it's your parents or friends or-"
"No, you trust me and I'm telling you that you have no idea." I looked her in the eye and I think she sort of guessed I was in trouble then. "If I help you now, you owe me big time. You got that?" I nodded. "I want to hear you say it."
"I understand that I will owe you and I'm willing to pay whatever it is." I said in a strained voice, conscious of my blood soaked shirt. The girl whistled through her teeth and said "some trouble you're in mate." She helped me up, but I couldn't straighten up properly. I thought I was going to pass out from the pain. The girl took off her leather jacket and pressed it hard against my cut, I winced and she said "you need to keep the pressure on that, I just need to call someone." The girl took out her phone and as she was waiting for an answer she said "by the way, my names Robin."
"Alex," I said. Then I wondered what kind of trouble I'd gotten myself into. I was in debt to this girl now and I didn't even know what I was paying. Was this really better than working for MI6? Then I remembered their blackmail and their manipulating ways. How they pretended to be my friend. How I'd be helping them if I was working for them. How they'd ruined my life. Yes, this was definitely better, I thought as I stood bleeding in a London back street.