Legendary // H.S

37.

'It's not easy facing up

When you're whole world is black'

*

When you're allowed to appreciate it, the London skyline is quite a beautiful sight. The buildings are harsh and contrasting to the softness of the parks and sky. When I first moved down here, I would walk for hours and hours just taking in the view. I'd stroll along the Thames, shuffle through the markets, sit and people watch in the green spaces. It's unlike any other place on Earth, I think. So much chaos and peace in one place.

Only when you're allowed to appreciate it, though.

As we speed through the streets, all I can see are the blurring outlines as they meld into one blotchy mess of colour. The sunset I admired minutes before is no longer on display, now replaced by the grey of the buildings we pass. Though quiet in the vehicle, the anxiety is deafening. The more worked up I get, the louder the buzzing in my ears becomes, taking over all consciousness and focus. I zone out for a while but am snapped back into reality when Harry's voice booms around us.

At first, he yelled about those following us, shouting profanities out the window as he tried to outrun them, but now he's cursing to himself as his eyes drift from the road to the rear view mirror, sweat cloaking his brow and upper lip.

As suspected, when we left Joe's, the men trailed behind, catching up immediately. We've been weaving in and out of traffic and back roads for fifteen minutes, no words spoken among each other as we both try to steady ourselves. Wherever we go, they will find us, that much is clear. It will be difficult trying to get rid of them, Harry is aware of that. Their car, though not as big as Harry's four-by-four, is much faster and slicker, moving about the roads easier than the one we find ourselves in. It's not a sports car, but, judging by the sound of the engine, they've certainly put a newer one in to match our pace. Their car is silver, probably a BMW from what I can tell, but I don't know much about cars.

I turn to look back at them, noticing the one that strangled me in the passenger seat. Perhaps Harry's shot did more damage to his leg than he realised. He clearly has a good aim, so it wouldn't surprise me if he purposely hit a sensitive part that would take longer to heal. If he wanted to kill him, he would have. I suppose he's wishing he did now that he follows us with the evillest look of disdain on his face.

The driver isn't someone I recognise, but Harry does, and he seems terrified of what they might do. I haven't really seen him scared for his life yet, but right now his hands are shaking, and his breathing has accelerated, almost matching the speed of the vehicle.

'Shit, shit, shit,' he whispers to himself, overtaking a smaller family car as we pass through the streets of South London. From what I can gather we're in Elephant and Castle now, not far from the river. Based on the road he's on it will take us over Tower Bridge. How fitting.

My hands cling tightly onto the seat below me. Even with the seat belt on I'm afraid I'll be chucked out of the car at any minute with the haste it's moving at. I'm not sure what to say; they're after me. Probably Harry too given what happened last time people were sent after me. There's nothing rational or helpful that I can say, all I can do is put my faith in Harry and his ability to get us out of this alive. He can't take us directly to my house, or even his, so I'm not sure where we'll go, but as long as we can lose them then we can figure something out.

We reach a busier area as we turn the roundabout, at the last minute skipping the lane that we originally intended and zooming down the fourth exit. In doing so, we manage to lose the other car, but it's obvious they'll come through another road soon. This may be the only chance we have to outrun them. If we're smart about this, we can take a route that they won't expect, perhaps throwing them off the scent.