Finally, some action! I can see them creeping along the alleyway, scanning all the nooks and windows. Stupid. When chasing someone or being chased, always put yourself at the higher vantage point. That'll give you a clearer line of sight and more security, which is why that's exactly what I did. Now I'm crouching on the top of a brick apartment whose walls were scrambled up not five minutes ago. My back to the lip of the roof, one eye peeking over the top so I can see the assailants looking for me.
"Clear! I'm gunna check the produce stalls with Grog and you two look in these buildings. The girl's here somewhere." The ringleader's a boy. Normally I wouldn't profile everybody as male before gathering more information, but I can only assume the sloppiness of the job originates from being told you were incredible as a child. And I don't know one woman who will tell you that's her story.
"Ey Oli, d'ya think she coulda crawled up the chimney to the roof?" I freeze. A gun fires.
"Ey, that was my good hat!"
"That's what you deserve. She couldn't of fit up that chimney, its barely big enough for a raccoon. Let's go meet the boss, she's not here." My muscles unclench and my back slumps on the wall as I listen to fragments of the conversation break off and float up to my ears.
"One time I ate a raccoon."
"I aint surprised Spiff. You look like you've eaten a lot worse than raccoon."
"It wasn't bad! I know a guy who'll sell us a nice clean one, can cook it up."
"Are you indicating you ate a raccoon recently?"
" . . . No?"
Well I don't need to worry about outsmarting them at least. Unfortunately it's four to one right now, and there's no substitute for brains but the pistols on their hips are almost as frightening. So I peek over the edge of the building one more time, watching for movement. Lenae taught me that. As the smallest of our age group, she was the natural choice for sharpshooter as there's not a cargo hold to small or an overhang to short. She'll sit under tarps or on masts in old boatyards for hours, scanning for any moving shadows or flickering scarves. I once asked here how she did it after a particularly difficult midnight training session where they released dummys on wheels from behind an obstacle course once we were drowsy. I hit five, she hit fifteen.
"Relax your eyes. Don't move them, settle on one thing in the middle of your sight, and pretend it's a dot widening until you're aware of your range of sight. Then you wait." I took her advice. It turned out to be just as unpleasant as it sounded, sitting for hours looking at nothing and everything all at once. But it worked, the next time we did a drill like that I nearly doubled my success. So now I remember while my legs are cramping like it's day two of my cycle and my eyes are watering. Nothing. Pedestrians wander by for a few moments and finally, I think it's safe. I turn from the ledge. There's a man standing, watching me from twenty paces away.
"Hello." He starts to run straight my way. My body swings into action, don't even have to think. This is what hours at the academy trained us to do. I turn and run towards the stairwell to my left, not looking back. My heart is moving up my airway, pounding too hard for me to breathe. This damn hair is blowing in my face but I can't even take a second to tear it out of my way. I can hear his grunts and my panicked breaths and a shhhik. Shit. My hands wraps around the cool handle of the door and I fling it open, pull my hand back maybe a half second before "DING!" His knife sticks where my pointer finger had been a second before. He doesn't stop and I don't either, slamming the door shut and locking it behind me. Then I'm flinging myself down the stairs, feet not even hitting each of the steps I'm just falling vertically. My hands reach into my reticule. I wasn't prepared for this, normally don't go out without several sharp things on me but Leo had an allergic reaction to one of my herbs this morning and I was just slipping out to buy some cheap medicine because he wouldn't shut up. So now I'm left with what? Lemon perfume, handkerchiefs, some loose buttons, a bottle of aspirin and a dozen hairpins. My feet are flying and my brain spinning as I reach the bottom of the stairs, and can hear the man yanking at the door. It's a rusted lock, won't keep him out for long so I need an idea now. I need to slow him down. As I'm rifling through the bag, a few seconds from the bottom of the stairs, my perfume falls from the bag and shatters on the last step. Bam! My feet are out from under me and I'm rolling hard until my skirts smash into the doorway. That'll work, so I push the door open and quickly hobble-run out, just as the man upstairs breaks the lock and flings the door open.
The streets are a maze, but I've grown to become quite a smart rat. I turn down alleys and sneak through gardens and jump fences until there's no way a person of that size could follow me. When in doubt, hide, so right now I'm crouching behind molding green apple crates dumped in the corner of a run-down market.
"She gone this way, I've seen her boss!" How? How did they trail me here? It's Oli speaking, the man who was with Spiff the raccoon eater. Where could they have seen me? I was careful. Well, maybe not. I did crush several beds of flowers and run through the city madly.
"Spread out. If you find her, don't hurt her. Big boss wants her in one piece. I'm looking at you Grug, all limbs remain on and unmangled." Then men mumble gruff "yessirs". So if none of them are supposed to hurt me, what the hell was that on the roof? That man was going to slice my fingers off. Just my like to have two attempts on my life in a half-hour period. I huddle down further behind the crates. I can see through a few centimetre-wide gaps in the rotting wood, and my eye is pressed up to them. The men split up, going four different direction, and Oli is the only one left that I can see. Better than Grug I suppose. Now that I have a second to breathe, why are they here? I haven't killed anyone in the past few weeks, dealt with no gangs or politicians. And Leo is in my care but he's a bad student, poor organization. I doubt he could pull this off. That leaves me with what? They weren't surprised by my hiding and running so they know that I've been trained at the academy. Perhaps its about that, trying to get even with a faculty member, or the academy itself so why not capture one of the students and pick her brain about everything happening inside. Well curse me if that happens, and it won't. I need to get out of here. Hands find the weak stitches in the seams of my lacey overskirt and yank them off to reveal tight brown pants, much easier to run in. I fumble with the strings of my blouse while kicking the skirt into a sludge pile behind me. There, the sleeves are off and I yank the cravat from around my neck, take off my overshirt so I'm standing in slacks, a long white undershirt and beige stays. If Eloise saw me now she'd probably slip into a coma, but it;s so much lighter. I shove everything into the slop pile and peek around the crates. No one is visible, so I slip through the closest door to me in the alley, right in front of the crates. It's an empty kitchen, finally some good luck, so I hurry through and pop out a mirroring door, dumping me in another alleyway, this one cleaner. Paused in the doorway, head swiveling each way, that's when they get me. Two hands pin my wrists to my side, so I shove backwards as hard as I can, earning an "oof!" from my captor. He loosens his grip so I spin and it's Grug. Seriously, Grug? I kick and jab with precision, but he fights back, blocking me. We're matched fairly well so when he forces me into the kitchen with punches and blocks, I go ahead. As we're nearing the counter where he'll be at an advantage, looming over me, I snake my hand out quickly and grab a small iron skillet. Not giving him any time to think, I smash it into his temple. The pan gets dropped and I don't wait to watch him crumple into the ground, just whirl and run out the other way. I'm back in the first alley, and whip around to behind the apple crates again. Two black eyes shine back at me. Oli violently shoves me backwards into someone else who wraps his arms around my torso, squeezing me. Actually, two someones because all of a sudden my ankles are leaden heavy and from the bottom of my sight I can see Spiff staring up at me, grinning like I'm a fish he caught. I wriggle and bite and try to kick but it's useless because I'm out of tools and surrounded by three boys with guns inches from me. None of them say anything. Oli takes a large step towards me. He has the flattest expression on his face I've ever seen. There's no emotion, no remorse, no excitement.
"Sorry." The voice that comes from him is just as flat but I don't have time to ask anything before a handkerchief is pressed over my mouth and nose. I start to wiggle again, thrashing now and breathing shallow, just like I've been trained to do, but he presses it until my cheeks are red and I have no choice but to breathe in. The world starts to spin right away, eyes go fuzzy. From the smell it's not a poison, just an over concentrated medicine. I fight it as hard as I can, but the world is spinning and I feel myself go limp in their arms and my eyes flutter, and then everything blurs into black.
YOU ARE READING
Mad Honey
FantasyWIP - Azalea is an academy trained spy, an occasional assassin. She's sent on mission to find and interrogate a boy who has been watching the academy, and her. But things go wrong when she is kidnapped and thrown into a conspiracy much bigger than h...
