A Chance for Shifted Perspectives

Alternate Beginnings

The car alarm blared from the abrupt event that was Chase Devineaux falling upon its bonnet. The lights flashed, with an almost as terrified flutter to Julia Argent's yelp from the sudden visage that was a man's face squashed into the shattered windscreen.

He moaned, eyes rolling back. An ungodly ache shuddered through his entire body as he slid off the hood in utter disarray. He was still conscious but in shock. His entire being crumpled on the floor as the muffled alarm continued to echo down the cobbled streets of the otherwise quiet Poitiers night. His brain has switched off momentarily, unresponsive, waiting for a cue, a reason to wake back up. Everything was numb, apart from the sensation of a hand pulling out the car keys from his back pocket, silencing the shrill car alarm that tainted the still atmosphere. It was enough to bring him back, remembering why he was here.

"Did you just-"

Julia's voice changed from its usual professional tone, filled with unkempt bewilderment as he cut her off, clamouring to his feet to look to the sky.

"Never mind that!"

He felt his breathing hitch, face sore from the impact. The usual ground debris, that moments ago sat lifeless on the street, cascaded off from the indents in his cheek as he scanned his surroundings. Falling upon his own car was second to the current objective. Carmen Sandiego had escaped by glider. She could be anywhere, further escaping after the weeks-long preparation he spent toiling over. There was no way he would let it all be over within five minutes, not after everything he went through just to organise for the surrounding street vendors to close for easy access to the back streets. It wasn't over until he said it was over.

"Where in the world is Carmen Sandiego?"

Chase shouted rhetorically to the heavens, heated breath almost fogging as he huffed, turning on the spot as if to see above the buildings themselves.

"South, I-I presume,"

Julia answered, catching his attention as he felt the adrenaline almost fade the second he took his hurried vision from up above. He screwed up his face as if to answer, confused of sorts to her answering his more metaphysical question.

"Judging by the trajectory she, well, flew away in,"

She continued, far firmer this time, clutching the car keys in her hand, casting a judging look over his body. As if expecting him to be far worse for wear than just a ruffled hair look and his clothes askew.

Chase blinked, moving his feet as his body throbbed once more, pushing a hand into his side to digest her additional information. He paced out from the car, back in the direction he ran in after Carmen Sandiego not even ten minutes prior. The more he moved, the more coherent his thoughts were; the bodily pain just a figment of his imagination.

As he paced out in front of the vehicle, towards Julia, he moved his hands up to cup his face, holding it steady as he brushed off the gravel that was still stuck to it, before shifting a finger down to hold his chin. Chase watched his feet move rhythmically across the stone, an age-old habit to declutter his mind. Religiously stepping on the same ones with the heel of his foot in sequence to maintain his train of thought. There was no way he would let up. Not yet. He was still standing, and Carmen Sandiego proved more tangibly real in her entire, almost fantasy motifs than he ever imagined. And she had something in her black sack. He couldn't just let her slip away like some common criminal. She was different. Well crafted. Prepared. There had to be a hefty price tag attached to whatever she took.

Julia had told him South. South was a direction that by air could be changed at any moment, making Julia's 'South' presumption obsolete within seconds. Carmen was a well-primed individual. Having a glider on her persons, and what appeared to be a means of easy elevation, left him with the conclusion that Carmen Sandiego had a preference to quickly dodging out of one's line of sight.