Fiction

Run - 1

Of course it was illegal. When did carjacking, underage drinking and the kinds of drugs parents would pass out about, become legal? Bradford wasn't the most innocent and well-behaved city. There was crime of course. There is crime everywhere nowadays. There's no escaping it. There are two main groups of people in this town now. Those who never leave their house because they're scared, then there's those who have taken advantage of all the crime and started some on their own. Knowing they won't get caught. And that's all thanks to us. The group who started it all. All underground and unknown to most. We started it, but not with the intention to just commit crimes. It's our way of living; you've got to do what you've got to do to survive. We don't have a name, and no one knows our faces. So we are The 23.

I ditch the car across from the sewer entrance and wait. No one comes down the road, and no one seems to be awake at this ungodly hour. Deeming it safe, I climb stiffly out of the car and walk (avoiding all puddles), over to the grate covering the sewer. The number of attacks on us in the past few weeks have been outrageous. We've never had this many before, so I figured that someone must have leaked our locations. But when all alibis checked out, we dug deeper, and eventually brought us here, to this sewer. Strange because you can barely see through the grate and it's impossible to track any of our stuff from this distance. I lug the grate upward and flip it over. A camera lens and a blinking red dot catch my eye. But before I could do anything, it flashes and the red dot goes out. I immediately stomp the sole of my boot on the camera shattering it. God why didn't I cover my face. Now they've got me.

~

After checking the car thoroughly I climb back inside and speed back towards our warhouse. Shaky and sweaty hands grip the steering wheel. Eyes darting, mind reeling, head spinning. I honestly don't know how I haven't crashed yet. My foot heavy on the gas not even thinking to lift off and hit the breaks at the stop light. Horns blare and angry curses are screamed after me. What the hell is going to happen? To me, to them? I'm going to have to leave. I can't have any more of use killed or injured. But I run 23, I can't just dump it on someone like my brother did to me. Where am I going to go? Are they going to follow me?
I finally peel my gaze away from the long road in front of me to the rearview, and the silver car that's obviously trailing me. Switching gears I press the gas even more and pull ahead of the car. Now aimlessly driving through side streets and alleys barely big enough to fit my own car. His right side mirror rips off the car as he tries to speed after me, giving me enough time to speed off and cut around the next corner and lose sight of the silver car. Defensive driving is one of my favorite hobbies. Maybe that's why I have so many speeding tickets. Oops.