I MEANT TO POST THIS EARLIER BUT I HAD TO DO A LOT OF RESEARCH AND STUFF SORRY
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Mitch's POV
The farmers market, as it turned out, was a very controversial place to hide. The crowds of people would hide us, but we would also be practically blind within our surroundings.
And I didn't even have a clue where the other had ran off to.
So I lost my hoodie and donned a pair of sunglasses. I kept my head down as I walked, and nervously watched for anyone to pay attention to me.
Hell, I had no clue how these SWAT guys operated. We had normally had local police on us, if anything. We must have achieved some kind of serial killer status that garnered for people to actually watch out for us, and then we must have hung out in the store too long or something.
Screams arose suddenly from the far side of the market, picking up and carrying. People began rushing past me, pushing and shoving in their haste to get away. I flattened myself against one of the many booths, squinting in the crowd for what the cause of panic was. If it was him, I was going to kill him. We didn't go pulling crap like this, not with authorities so close.
However, it was the black helmet that I saw first that made me leap straight into the booth. Ducking behind the counter, I peered over it and watched the scene unfold.
The SWAT team was advancing into the crowd, guns down so as to not harm any civilians. They certainly had scared them, though. If I hadn't been right along the edge of the booths, I probably would have been knocked over and stepped on.
People were still streaming by, and that was the only reason I spotted him. He was going in the wrong direction, stumbling as people ran into him. He was near enough for me to see his eyes, flitting around as they searched the area.
His eyes had just fallen on the booth I was crouched behind when the SWAT member tackled him to the ground and pinned him there. His bag was yanked roughly from his shoulders and tossed away from his reach, and his gun pulled from his waistband and handed to someone else. Then they were handcuffing him and searching him for any other weapons. I winced and turned away when they found his knife, still covered in blood, tucked in his sleeve. Keeping low, I scooted out of the booth and crawled behind a truck. When I turned my head for one last glance, they were hauling him up.
When I finally made it away from the market, sirens were still wailing loudly. They probably hadn't even left the market yet.
Looking for me, probably.
Well, this just got bad.
I slowly trudged to the nearest coffee shop I could find, which turned out to be a little, personally-run business with a flowery name that was also really crappy. We had discovered that cops didn't frequent small coffee shops that often, so as long as we avoided cameras, they weren't a bad spot to hang out in for a bit.
I ordered a cup to go just to avoid suspicion, but then sat down in a booth near to the kitchen and sipped it slowly as I thought.
I was alone. The other was arrested, and he would not be getting out. I'm pretty sure we qualified as serial killers. We probably were popular enough by now to have a nickname when they told a story about us on fox news.
And now the other was arrested. Or, Adam was arrested. Technically it was Adam that was arrested, but it wasn't. I wonder if he'd get off from the charges for having a mental illness? That would probably depend on if the other actually let Adam back in control.
From what he had mentioned to me, simple, small things, said in passing, he had Adam pretty tied up. I remembered that I had talked about how disgusting he was one night when we were both drunk, and how Adam would never do this. He had responded by laughing and proudly stating that Adam didn't even know what was going on.
And now I was alone, and wanted for murder and robbery and who knows what else. I didn't know what to do, it was always the other who got us away! I just planned the stuff when he wanted, we would do it, and he would get us out.
I had no clue what I was supposed to do next. I had no clue.
