(April 22, 2008)
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Cracked streetlights groaned in the wind sending shadows bouncing in all directions. Aiden shivered from the noise more than the night's chill. Aiden gripped his bike's handlebars tighter and urged his legs to move faster. They protested at first, but gradually he rolled along at an increased pace. This part of his Tuesday and Thursday routine he hated- being out in the open for so long.
The creaking buildings around him had seen better days. Remnants of paint gave the walls a corroded patchwork look. Gaping holes glared at him where windows once rested, but most buildings still had their doors attached. However the graffiti tags on the buildings sent the deepest shivers down Aiden's spine.
Most of the words were illegible, but spattered in and out of the tags a crude image of a dragon's head could be seen. A tag belonging to the Neon Dragon gang that claimed much of the dilapidated part of the city.
In his months on the streets Adien had managed to avoid running into any of them. His gut clenched with the knowledge that it likely was only a matter of time. Especially if he continued tempting fate by taking this route.
A dull, ever present, ache in his stomach and the fatigue building in his muscles served as a reminder why he took this particular risk. Taking this stretch of road and buildings cut Aidens commute by close to an hour of what it would be if he took the long way round. That didn't stop his eyes and heart rate jumping crazily every time a shadow moved.
Inch by inch, never fast enough, the tagged building faded into the darkness behind Aiden. Eventually his heart rate settled though the back of his neck itched- as if someone watched him. 'Probably just my imagination.' Maybe. Hopefully. If not . . . well, he'd worry about that later.
The buildings that now surrounded him were less decayed, but not affluent by any means. The people here tended to pay closer attention to who was out and about, since it fringed on the Neon Dragons' territory. Aiden figured that might have been one reason why a dojo had been established- and survived- in the middle of several aged apartment buildings.
Aiden never got close enough to figure out all the reasons why a martial arts center had been built here, but this location gave ample allowance for his need to lay low. Parking his bike in an alleyway, Aiden locked it to a metal ring in the wall. He tightened the straps of his backpack and slipped to the fire escape, climbing to the roof four stories above.
Lights flickered on in the dojo's window just as Aiden reached the edge. 'Perfect timing.' The large glass windows gave an unobstructed view of the class soon to be practicing inside.
Though the streets were mostly deserted, Aiden crouched at the edge of the roof. He couldn't tell if anyone would be able to see him with the street lights below, but, as with almost every other aspect of his life now, he couldn't take that risk. The last thing he needed was for the police to be called for a kid hanging out on a roof where he shouldn't be. Though at the moment it felt like the worst that could happen was for the dojo to shut their blinds.
A faded Sensei Mike's Tae Kwon Do sign hung above the door. Though different from ninjutsu, tae kwon do more of an emphasis on kicks as opposed to punches, getting back into martial arts - even if it was more of an observation- grounded Aiden in a way he hadn't felt since before- before it happened.
Ignoring that train of thought, Aiden turned his attention to the class gathered. Thursday nights were the adult lessons, which Aiden found to be more his speed. Studying them Aiden felt a surge of appreciation for all Dane taught to him and Brody. Even at his significantly younger age than those gathered, he could follow along with the red and brown belts.
Aiden slid a scuffed notebook and half empty pen out of his backpack. Both items had been scavenged from the streets and though they looked a little worse for wear, they got the job done. Intently watching the blackbelts Aiden listed each move he could see of their forms.
L leg back, dbl mid block
L front step, R punch
L dbl f kick, in block, dbl punch...
It would be a lot easier to write when the students learned the form rather than practiced them, but that never seemed to be when Aiden watched. However, making the trek more than two times a week left himself too vulnerable. Daytime he'd be even more obvious on the streets and night ran the greater risk of meeting with unsavory characters or the police. Not in the least since he had to go through 'claimed territory' but for now it worked. His routine, and the city garbage schedule, left his Tuesdays and Thursdays available to travel this far. A small voice at the back of his mind chose that time to chime in, 'but for how long?' Aiden focused back on the class below, too afraid to confront that thought.
After an hour, Aiden had two full pages of steps for forms. Reclining against the partial wall, Aiden stuffed the notebook into his bag while the class dispersed. The sound of cars and footsteps gradually faded but Aiden waited an extra half hour to ensure a lesser chance of prying eyes. 'Alrighty time to head out.'
Aiden carefully made his way down and unlocked his bike. Night had come on full while he watched the class, only offset by periodic street lights- half of which didn't work in this part of town. He'd biked a lot in the dark over the last couple months but something tonight made him uneasy. 'It's nothing. I'm just overreacting.'
Still Aiden couldn't shake the feeling as he rode back toward the warehouse. Everything seemed okay. He reached the broken down stretch that would take him to the stone bridge. Something shiny glinted in the corner of his eye. That was the only warning Aiden got.
Shouts exploded on all sides and several figures rushed him. Aiden barely managed to hold in a scream. 'No, no, no!' Aiden veered sharply to the left. Silhouetted individuals blocked his way. Breath hitching, Aiden did the only thing that came to mind- pedaling towards them as hard as he could.
Crying in surprise (words Aiden didn't recognize) rose around Aiden. Instead of scattering, one of the figures charged Aiden, hitting the bike sideways. Yelping, Aiden launched himself from the bike and rolled, backpack and all, twisting into a half crouch.
"Well, well the small pint's got some fight in him."
Aiden whipped around. A large man, clad head to toe in black with a bright yellow dragon's head on his shoulder, stepped toward him. Oh, this was not good. He pulled a switch from his pocket. It snapped open. Aiden flinched at the blade gleaming in the streetlight.
"No one uses our territory as a shortcut and gets away with it."
He probably wouldn't appreciate it if Aiden commented on the fact he'd been going this way for over a month now.
"Get him!"
The group charged as one. Aiden only had seconds to scrape together some semblance of a plan. His mind raced, they had size and numbers. However, if he could be more nimble . . .
Ducking between two of the attackers, Aiden spun delivering quick kicks to the sides of their knees. Twin howls pierced the night but Aiden didn't stop to listen. Four more circled him. Aiden charged the closest one, stepping inside the man's guard to land a kick on his chest. The man grunted in surprise and fell back. A sliver of an opening appeared between the Dragons. Aiden darted through it and sprinted down the road, leaving his bike behind.
Or tried to.
Something snagged his backpack. He jerked backward, crashing to the ground. The fall stole the breath from Aiden's lungs. Fighting to regulate his breathing, he tried to push himself to his feet. Two pairs of legs appeared in his line of vision. One leg pulled back. Aiden rolled violently, a process semi-impeded by his backpack, but managed to launch himself far enough that the kick only grazed his ribs.
Small gulps of air rushed into his lungs. Aiden pulled at his waning strength, finding the energy to get his feet underneath him. Ignoring the cries of anger, he forced his shaking legs into a run. Footsteps thundered behind him. Aiden couldn't outrun them for long, even if he hadn't just been thrown to the ground. Frantically scanning his surroundings, Aiden tried to look for anything useful. Empty buildings and dark alleyways. Not super helpful, but maybe better than nothing.
Aiden dashed down an alley and into a darkened doorway. Not giving his eyes time to adjust, Aiden stumbled blindly through the room. His feet brushed chunks of rubble. Forcing his breath to quiet, Aiden listened to the acoustics of the room. Sound bounced off something large, closer than the far wall.
'Please be stairs! Please be stairs!' His eyes began to pick out shapes and, to his immense relief, stairs lined the inner wall. Taking the steps two at a time, he prayed the creaking wood would hold his weight. Two more stories brought him to the roof. Panting, Aiden paused and braced his hands on his knees. His breath came in short gasps. Sounds of pursuit still echoed below him, getting closer by the second. 'What now?'
Jerking his head back and forth, he looked around. The remnants of a fire escape, a couple pieces of railing without anything to stand on, were set in the outer wall across from him. He wouldn't be getting down that way. Aiden's heart pounded furiously in his chest. Isolating himself on the roof might not have been the best course of action.
The next building over looked about the same height as the one he stood on. And it wasn't that large of a gap. 'No, no. That won't work!' But the footsteps and shouts were too close. Swallowing hard, Aiden tightened the straps of his backpack. Then without giving himself time to think about what he was doing, Aiden sprinted to the railing and leapt.
For several long seconds Aiden felt suspended in the air. He heard and felt nothing except for the wind blowing. The spell shattered upon impact. Aiden lay on the roof, stunned more from the fact he made it than any pain landing might have sent through him. Shaking his head, Aiden rose on shaky legs. He could process his stupidity later.
Running to the far edge, Aiden saw this building's fire escape had not endured whatever damage the other building had gone through. Practically jumping, Aiden dropped onto the landing out of view from the roof. Not a second too soon.
"Where'd he go?" A voice bellowed. Aiden couldn't hear if there was a response over his heartbeat in his ears. "He can't be far. Find him!"
Flying down the remaining steps, Aiden doubled back the way he'd come. Four blocks up he ducked into another building. Stumbling behind a staircase, he collapsed hard against the wall trying to get his breathing under control. 'So . . . not . . . good.' They'd probably start backtracking soon even if they eventually gave up looking for him. This was their territory after all.
Nausea churned in Aiden's gut. 'I can't . . . do this!' Aiden wanted to dissolve into the shadows and never move again. 'This is ridiculous! I can't do this! They're going to catch me and kill me, if they're feeling kind.' Aiden shuddered. The stories of the Neon Dragons victims were never pleasant. He remembered times at home when Dane would turn off the TV if Aiden or Brody were in the room when they were on the news. 'You've made it this far, you can't give up.' A soft reminder whispered into his mind. Resisting the urge to bang his head against this wall, Aiden grit his teeth. 'Okay, okay.'
The only things working to his advantage at the moment were the darkness and the gang members didn't know he'd retraced his steps. Yet. Both had a timetable working against him. 'Okay, focus.' Taking a deep breath and holding it, Aiden listened closely. His blood still pulsated in his ears but beyond that frustrated yells pierced the night. Nothing close, but some of the gang might be quieter during their search than others. 'Main thing is to stay out of sight. If I can do that I can get out. They don't know where I live, but they do know the direction I need to go.' He frowned in thought.
Without his bike this was going to be even harder. 'Less speed, but I do have more mobility.' Like, for example, jumping off a building. Not something he ever wanted to do again.
'Backwards. If I can swing out wide enough, I can avoid them.' Hopefully. Giving himself two extra seconds to gather his courage, Aiden closed his eyes. 'I can't give up. Dad wouldn't.' Determination settling in, Aiden pushed off the wall. Cautiously he stuck his head out of the doorway. No one was on the street. 'Doesn't mean they're not in or on the buildings . . .' But he'd take what he could get at the moment.
Taking off at a run, Aiden wove in and out of the alleys. Internally he braced for shouts, maybe even a gunshot, but after several minutes of nothing but his own heartbeat in his ears Aiden began to think he might have gotten away. He didn't slow until he reached the dojo. The return trip had taken twice as long on foot rather than with his bike. Ignoring the churning in his gut at the thought of climbing onto another roof, Aiden knew he couldn't risk being spotted on the ground.
With trembling fingers, Aiden once again scaled the fire escape and hauled himself over the edge of his usual apartment complex. Flopping to the ground, Aiden rolled over and stared into the dark sky. 'What the heck just happened?'
The last hour or so was a total blur of fear and adrenaline. Aiden couldn't believe he'd gotten away the way he had. Getting away from the Neon Dragons of all people without hospital level injuries could only be counted as miraculous. How no one spotted him in his mad dash out of their territory, he had no idea. He was thankful nonetheless.
Now came the issue of getting back to his h- . . . living space. Aiden sketched a mental map of the old industrial park from this neighborhood. Skirting the Dragons' territory meant having to follow the river several miles north before coming to a deserted bridge that would allow him to cross the river. Aiden stifled a sigh. With his bike that easily took an hour and a half, now without it . . .
Grimacing, Aiden knew he had to get moving. But having just run for miles his body protested starting up again.
'It's either move now or spend the next twenty-four hours up here hoping no one sees me.' A thought made even less appealing by the fact Aiden only had half a water bottle and a granola bar in his backpack. 'So staying's not really an option.' Aiden glanced at his watch. It was already midnight. If he started walking he could probably make it back before dawn. He just had no idea how much 'before dawn' it would be.
Shoving that thought from his mind, Aiden forced himself, once again, to his feet. Every fiber of his body groaned in protest but, one foot after, another Aiden lowered himself to the ground.
The streets were deserted but Aiden kept his head low. Gripping the straps of his backpack, Aiden started the long walk back.
Two hours later Aiden still hadn't made it to the bridge. A, rather large, part of him wanted to curl up in the corner of an alley and take a nap, but he knew if he sat down now he wouldn't get up again before morning. So he kept on. And on . . . and on . . . and on.
It was just past five when he finally stumbled into his warehouse, almost asleep on his feet. His head pounded but Aiden was too relieved to care. Since his backpack only held his notebook and empty water bottle, Aiden didn't bother attempting his rope ladder.
The word 'ladder' was probably a generous term for it. With some of the last of his money Aiden had bought a fifty-foot climbing rope that he'd knotted hand/foot holds into and connected it to a hook. The day he'd gotten it Aiden practiced over and over tossing it up into the window so he could leave it hidden from view on the ground level when he left the warehouse for whatever reason.
Even though he didn't plan to use the rope Aiden still grabbed it and carefully scaled the stairs. Once he reached the top Aiden pulled off his backpack and tossed it in a corner. 'I made it back. I really made it back!' That was Aiden's last rational thought before collapsing onto his sleeping bag.