The Illegals

Chapter 3-blown by the wind

🌺 Serenity 🌺

Micah looked at me with a firm, yet anxious expression. "There are more of us out there than we ever thought, and the government knows exactly where each and every one of us are."

My emerald eyes widened in shock, and I stifled a gasp. "How many?"

"Twenty-seven."

Micah started shuffling through papers on the desk, trying to find something blank—at least, sort of blank—to write on. He swiftly began scribbling down anything and everything he saw on the computer screen. I anxiously watched the clock, my heart racing faster with every tick of the second hand.

"Hurry," I urged in a hushed whisper.

"I'm trying, I'm trying." Micah was trying to stay calm, but I could hear the stressed tension in his voice.

Footsteps started echoing down the hall, and I gave Micah a pleading look. He glanced at me with a grave expression etched on his face. He looked around for an escape, and I knew he'd found one when the seriousness on his face was replaced by determination. He signaled for me to climb up the cabinets to the ceiling.

Micah helped me up, and I moved a ceiling tile out of the way. I carefully positioned my foot on the thin cabinet handle and lifted myself the rest of the way up. "Stay on the edges, and don't step on the tiles," Micah whispered.

I nodded. He climbed in after me, and we put the tile back in its place. We did our best to muffle our ragged breathing when the sound of footsteps intensified. The door handle turned, and the creak of the door echoed through the quiet room. I gave Micah a look of fear, but he remained seemingly calm and collected, with a look of concentration. Voices started below.

"Did you find them?" a man asked in a deep voice.

Another man spoke hesitantly. "We did... I'm afraid we have lost them."

"Excuse me?"

"The girl spotted one our men in the stands at the game. Her and the boy disappeared shortly thereafter."

More footsteps ensued, quieter than the previous ones. I could hear the man sit down on the squeaky seat, but silence followed. "Someone's been here." He sounded angry, and slightly confused.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive." Silence again. "Search the premises."

Micah motioned me to follow him. I stayed close behind him as we inched our way along the edge of the ceiling. As we went, Micah carefully checked each step for creaking before he stepped. We were able to move faster once we'd got a few classrooms down. With every step, my foot ached more and more. Suddenly, a tile gave way, and after a loud crack, I fell through the ceiling.

My hand flew to my mouth to muffle a scream. My heart raced as it never had before, and everything became a blur. A hand suddenly grabbed my wrist, and I was hoisted up into the ceiling. My breathing was shaky, and the adrenaline made me dizzy.

"Who's there!?" I heard a man shout. Suddenly, the noise of classroom doors being knocked down started down the hall but came closer with every passing second.

Micah grabbed my hand, and we ran through the ceiling until we ran into a wall. Micah looked up and focused on the skylight. With swift handwork, he undid the latch, and we climbed out onto the school roof.

The sun was bright and cheery, and a cool breeze was blowing. Thinking about it, I realized there was always a breeze up there, even in July—don't ask me how I know. You could hear birds, and the excited cheers coming from the open doors of the gym. The fear and the increasing sirens and the running and fleeing and danger just didn't feel right. It was the kind of day, the kind of weather that used to make everything better.

Micah's voice interrupted my thoughts. "Alright, daydreamer. I've got a plan." I immediately listened to his proposition. "We'll climb down the fire escape into the alley by the school. My friend Charlie works at the ice cream shop a block away, and he'd totally let us hide in the backroom."

I nodded and followed Micah to the fire escape on the side of the school. I slid to the edge of the school and moved my broken foot into a position where it wouldn't catch on the railing. I put my other foot on the ladder, but it slipped, and Micah had to grab my arm again.

"Twice in five minutes? I'm such a klutz," I groaned, feeling embarrassed and tense.

"Don't worry, Serenity. Everyone gets a little clumsy at some point." When I raised an eyebrow in doubt, he continued. "I mean, it's not like you're clumsy every day. If you were, you wouldn't be the amazing cheerleader you are. Besides, it's because you're injured, not because you're clumsy."

I was able to climb down the rest of the way into the dark, shaded space between the school and another building. You could hardly call in an alleyway, but it was full of debris blown by the wind, or left behind, or stashed.

Micah climbed down most of the way and jumped the rest. He immediately began scouring the ground for something, but I didn't know what he was looking for. I stood on one foot, leaning against the side of the school while I waited.

Micah came walking back to me with a long, broken pipe in his hand. "Use this as a crutch until we can get to the shop."

I nodded, and flipped the pipe upside down, so the sharpest end was pointed toward the ground. We carefully made our way to the street, keeping an eye out for any suspicious character. We walked down the street and around the corner without being caught, and we entered the ice cream shop.

Micah greeted Charlie, who was scooping ice cream. "Charlie, my man. What's up?"

"Definitely not the temperature in here," he laughed. Charlie looked at me. "Qui est la charmante dame?"

Micah responded for me, obviously understanding Charlie's question, to a point. "This is Serenity."

Charlie bowed. "Enchante, mon ami."

Micah shook his head with a chuckle. "Charles, I don't think the French bow when they say that."

A puzzled expression was written on my face. "Is he French or not?" I honestly couldn't tell, and I was getting mixed vibes from their conversation. Boys.

"Serenity, this is Charles, my good friend with a good sense of humor." I laughed, understanding at last.

"So, how can I help y'all?"

Micah answered in a low voice. "You gotta hide us in the back."

After a strange look, Charlie nodded, and led us to the back. He moved some things around, so we'd have somewhere to sit while we waited.

I made my way onto the makeshift seat. "Do you have some ice I could put on my foot?"

Charles looked at me like I was crazy. "I'd sure hope we did, seeing that this is an ice cream parlor," he laughed.

He got me some ice and left me and Micah alone in the back. Now that things had slowed down, I was able to ask him what had sparked my curiosity back in the classroom. "Micah, what was on the computer?"

He handed me a paper with a list of names. "These are all the Illegals."

I glanced down the list, somehow to see my name printed in the middle, and Micah's a few below it. I studied the list for a moment, the wheels in my brain turning swiftly. "That wasn't all you wrote down."

Micah was silent for a moment. "It's best you don't know what the rest is."

He opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by the bang of gunfire at the front of the shop.

Author's note
Well, hello, my friends! It's me, southerngentlemen! To be honest, I wrote most of this chapter in my math class, so you're welcome. Thought of the day: arms on your chairs are chairs for your arms. Remember to comment about errors, suggestions, and things we should try better on! Until next time... adieu.