On the Run

Heavy breathing accompanied the steady oscillating concussions of footsteps against the ground as Axel sprinted through a narrow alleyway, the shouting of men echoing down from behind him. He didn’t look over his shoulder. He didn’t need to. The situation was quite clear to him at this point. That was when he heard the scratching of sharp claws against the cement and the growing snarl of a group of ferocious K9’s, coming up faster than he could hope to run. His heart sank in his chest, his eyes focused on the dead end, a large twenty-foot brick wall with four window frames in a square formation, along with a light pole protruding out from its side that failed to illuminate the darkness.

“Ah ha! We got him now!” he heard the triumphant cheers from his pursuers, closer now than they were seconds ago. It was over. He would never make it in time. A final push for survival drove Axel faster than he had ever run before, straight towards the end wall. He closed in, full speed ahead as the vicious dogs pursued him from his six. He felt the crushing jaws snap their razor teeth into his jeans by his ankle. At that very moment, Axel jumped, his right foot pressing on the brick wall and kicking upwards, transferring all of his forward momentum to the sky. His jeans ripped in the maw of the K9 as he shot up just out of their reach, his fingertips gripping at the second story window frame. He pulled up, flinging himself three feet up to the light pole where he used his momentum to shoot up one more time to the top of the building.

“No!” He heard the raging scream echoing from below. Axel turned around, staring twenty feet down where he was almost caught seconds earlier. Two men ran up next to their snarling companions that stood at the wall, barking angrily up at Axel, longing for a taste of his flesh. The men were large and dressed in black suits. The one to the left pulled out a pistol from his hip holster and pointed it up towards Axel. Axel smirked and jumped out of the way, trotting across the rooftop. His breathing was controlled as if he was on a leisurely stroll. He was used to this kind of activity. Today was pretty normal for him, minus the dogs and the guns of course. As he approached the opposite edge, he picked up speed until he was at a sprint. Right before the building dropped off, he launched through the air, a sudden feeling of weightlessness coming over him as he glanced at the alleyway two stories below. He looked up just in time to connect his feet against the side of the next building, absorbing the powerful impact in his legs. His feet slipped just as his arms caught the edge, saving him from a fatal fall, but ripping his fingertips open in the process. He popped himself up, running across the length of the roof and vaulted over a large ventilation tube, diving at it and pulling his legs through his arms. Another tube came right after the first one and he flipped over it, turning his body sideways and jumping, rotating his legs around his body as he flew through the air over it. His stomach turned with a sense of levity. The balls of his feet struck the ground, first left then right, leading him into a run, his pace never slowing.

Axel was laughing now, the exhilarating excitement from the close call with the agents still pumping through his veins. He ran freely through the city, no obstacle extreme enough to keep him from moving. The streets were his home, and the buildings were his playground. He maneuvered through the urban jungle, his movements an expression of his emotions.

He approached an old looking warehouse with shattered out windows and cracks lined across the red brick wall like the desperate scrawlings of a man with moments to live and an eternity of knowledge. His chest was heaving and in search of oxygen after the intense pace he’d kept up all the way back. He entered the large, abandoned warehouse, illuminated only by the moonlight that came through the old, broken windows that lined the top edges of the structure. He walked to the center of the room, observing the random structures of bars and walls that he used to train in parkour. They cast long, abstract shadows across the floor in the moonlight. From out of the shadows emerged a man in raggedy sweatpants and a black hoodie. His movements were graceful and silent, and he appeared like a ghost from thin air. His face was smooth and unmarked, aside from a small scar on his right cheekbone. He walked towards Axel and circled him, observing him like a wolf circling a sheep. Axel didn’t move, aside from his heaving chest which gradually became more controlled as the moments passed. Small droplets of blood slowly rolled down his fingertips from his torn skin.

“You’re sweating.” The man said in the dry monotone that you’d expect from such an obvious statement.

“Yeah, I was doing a bit of training.” Axel replied, casually sitting down on a bar behind him.

“Don’t lie to me.” The man responded in the same tone, his dark eyes almost piercing through Axel’s soul. “I’m going to ask you once, and you’re going to tell me the truth. What happened?”

After a few moments of silence, Axel responded, “They found me.” His tone defeated. Now he was scared. Xzarias was about to get very angry. “But I got away. They didn’t follow me!” Axel began pleading as Xzarias sighed, bowing his head down.

“We have to go.” His voice didn’t rise but was quiet. He turned around, walking away.

“Axel tried to argue, “But the-”

Xzarias cut him off. This time he yelled. “We have to go!” and the matter was settled.