Chapter 3: Going home
I took out my short-beam phone from my pack and dialed home. It just beeped and beeped with no answer. I put it away and stared at the smoke. My heart began to feel like a roller coaster. It wouldn’t slow down.
A minute later I was startled when the electric bus pull up silently in front of me. I sprang to my feet and ran toward the door. I showed the driver my pass and sat down in the second seat to the left, waiting for the bus to get going again. The old man following me was just getting to the door. He was very slow as his robotic legs made a clicking noise while he walked up the steps. I often wondered if it was a disease that got him or an accident.
I looked over my shoulder in the direction of my house and saw the smoke rising even blacker than before. I knew the bus had to travel in the opposite direction for a few minutes before doubling back toward another section of the poorer neighborhood, where I lived. I was so anxious to see how close that fire was to my house or if it was my house that my body was tense, like I was going to jump out of my skin.
I found myself twirling my hair, a nervous habit I have sometimes, when I tasted blood in my mouth. I suddenly realized I had been biting my lip the whole time. I thought I had gotten over that habit. I had bitten until the blood flowed. I stopped that but kept twirling my hair.
At the third stop, several more kids got on from another school, and so did one man dressed in black pants and a dark green shirt. Hurry, hurry, hurry, I thought. The man passed me and as I looked up I saw that he had a lot of scars all over his face as if a cat had used his face as a scratching post. His eyes locked on mine and he smiled. Something in that smile made my skin crawl. I looked away, hoping he would move toward the back of the bus, but he sat right behind me. The electric bus moved ahead except for the kids in the back who were talking loudly.
Soon I heard him unzip his pack and then it sounded like toy blocks being assembled. It seems like I had heard that sound before. Maybe it was one of the vids I had seen growing up; the ones my mom didn’t like to watch because she kept having to close her eyes.
At the next stop, before anyone even got on or off, he moved up to my seat and grabbed my arm. I looked down, too surprised even to scream. A small gun was pushing against my side. “At the next stop, we’re going to get off together,” he growled. He seemed to talk with his teeth together. I knew I was in the worst kind of danger, so I did something I had told myself I would never do again. I closed my eyes and I used my talent. I felt the heat on my arm and a slight smell of smoke.
“Ah, Ahhh!” he yelled, as he jumped away from me and across the aisle, falling backwards against a middle-aged couple.
“He’s got a gun!” yelled the woman in the next seat over. Even before the panic could begin, I bolted toward the open door in front. A woman and a small girl were about to get on, but I pushed past them and rushed out into the street.
I heard more yelling, but I didn’t look back. I needed to get out of there before he could find me.
Behind me I heard pounding feet down the steps of the bus, so I knew he was coming after me. On the other side of the street now I ran down the sidewalk to the left. I dodged people in front of me and ran into a lady and almost knocked her down. I yelled, “Sorry!” as I raced past her.
I didn’t turn back, but I heard the man yell, “Get outta my way!”
I rounded the corner, turning right and immediately ducked into Emmanuel’s Hardware. “You okay?” said Nick, a man in his mid-thirties who was already balding. He was putting up a new display of sonic tools. “Why you running in here like that? You got a bully on your tail?”
I knew the people here because my dad would shop here a lot since we were fixing up our new house. “Something like that,” I said. I ran through the store until I got to the far counter and then I ducked my head down.
“Must be pretty bad for you to…”
The front door opened. I didn’t know if it was him or someone else. “Hey, you seen a ten-year-old girl run in here. She’s my niece. We were just playing a little hide-n-seek.”
“No, not here,” said Nick. “Maybe she went into one of the other shops.”
“I was sure I saw this door close as I chased her around the corner,” said the stranger.
“You’re not from around here, are you?” said Nick. “Do you need any tools? I’ve got a new accelerated screwdriver that’s so fast it’ll do a hundred screws in a minute.”
“No,” he growled. “I don’t need a screwdriver. Just looking for my niece.”
“I’ll take you around the store,” said Nick. “Give you a regular tour. If she’s around, you’ll find her. Maybe she’s back here.” I heard them walk down the aisle toward the other side of the store. I knew what he was doing. He was giving me a chance to escape. As soon as I heard Nick’s voice again, “Hey, how about back here?” I knew he was as far from me as he could get. With my head down I crept toward the front door and slowly opened it. As I did, a man in blue jeans almost knocked me over. I was crouched down in front of him.
“What’s going on?” he yelled. I didn’t have time to talk. I darted past him through the door to the right and down the street.
I had never been so scared in my life.
Tracy's Escape Page 3
