Between The Lines

Chapter 4

We didn't meet the goals last chapter.  Not enough commenters, but we were one away. :(

I'll be dedicating this to the first person to comment (that hasn't already been dedicated too) and the next chapter will be dedicated to the first NEW reader to comment. 

 

Goals (meeting these will ensure quicker updates):

- 100 reads

- 25 votes

- 10 comments

Trailing Zacharias was a good reminder of why I’d never considered becoming a secret agent.  So far, I’d made sure to trip over five obstacles, ranging from a can of coke to a dustbin to an unexpectedly long chair leg.  Luckily, I was far enough away for him not to notice.  I did, however, catch more than a few pedestrians shooting me curious looks as I struggled to regain my balance.

I was ten minutes into the journey by now and I realised that I was being lead a part of the city I rarely ventured into.  The cute cafes were rapidly thinning out and instead the streets were cramped with Chinese takeaways and grotty chippies.  Less people were walking around here, too.  In fact, I found myself being forced to follow from at least half a street behind Zacharias or risk being spotted.  I didn’t think that he would react too well if he knew I was stalking him.

I peered around myself as Zacharias rounded yet another sharp corner, beginning to doubt whether this was the best idea.  A bus stop sat lonelily on the other side of the street.  If it seemed like his journey was going to last over an hour, I’d use that to get home.  I could feel and hear my stomach whining to be fed.  Afterall, I’d usually be home and eating lunch by now.

I took the precaution of sticking my head around the corner before entering the street.  Paranoia was whispering in my ear that he was waiting just around the corner to catch me in the act.  To my relief, he wasn’t.  Instead, he was moving steadily along the pavement, not sparing any glances at his surroundings – it seemed that he knew the area well – and then, so precisely that I almost missed it, he turned into a pathway which led up to the entrance of one of the buildings.

I frowned as a bushy hedge marred my view, but soon enough, his head bobbed over the crimson leaves as he ascended what must have been a set of stairs.  Then his hand was on the chapped door, pushing it open, and two seconds later, it swung shut behind him with a smack so loud I could hear it from my hiding place.  He’d entered a block of flats.

I stared at the building, perplexed.  It was big, grey and it had three long floors, but the most distinguishable feature was its age.  It didn’t look too old compared to the other blocks around it, but when I thought of the rose bush and pretty crawler plants that decorated my house, it seemed as though I’d been transported back fifty years.  The block of flats had plants on it too but rather in the form of damp moss that looked as though it was seeping out of the windows and roof.

What was he doing here?  Did he live here?  It was a quite a journey away from school but I suppose a bus could get him there in good time.  I narrowed my eyes in on the door.  It wouldn't do any harm if I followed him into the building.  Maybe I could find out which apartment he lived in.

Checking one last time that the street was empty, I sprung around the corner and half-sprinted half-hopped as quickly as I could to the flats, making sure to duck my head as low as possible.  The gate crumbled beneath my fingers as I pushed it open and I took a moment to wipe the bronze rust on my jeans before taking the steps two at a time up to the door.