Escaping Maximoff

Time Moves Slow

Sun rays beamed down, warming my skin as I walked along the empty streets. I had woken up early that morning, leaving Sam in a heap of blankets on the floor, to get us all a coffee before a long day at school.

I didn't really expect to see any other people as I opened the door to the small café, but as I was greeted by the fragrant scent of ground coffee beans, I was also met with a sense of unease. Tucked away in mine and Sam's corner were three men, all wearing the same black combat outfits with a strange-looking logo on the breast. I eyed them suspiciously for a second before walking to the counter and exchanging a knowing look with the barista, Jeremy, who was a boy in my grade.

"They've been sitting there all morning," he explained in a hushed tone, leaning over the counter to ensure they wouldn't hear.

"Who are they?" I asked, shifting nervously when I felt the men's gaze on me.

"Some kind of soldiers, I think. Maybe they're in the army," Jeremy suggested, stepping back to start making my drinks.

"Maybe," I said, mostly to myself, hoping to calm my nerves. The whole situation felt weird. First Wanda, now a group of soldiers. The village was a magnet for trouble.

Jeremy handed me my coffees as one of the soldiers placed a gun loudly on the table, the sound of metal on wood echoing around the empty shop. I struggled to keep a hold of the cups as my eyes met those of the man. He smiled slightly, his thin lips stretching into what could more easily be described as a grimace. I didn't return the gesture and instead rushed out of the café, my heart beating erratically in my chest.

I gripped the cups tightly as I walked briskly back to Sam's house, swinging open the front door so violently that I was surprised it didn't come off its hinges. The blond was sitting calmly at the kitchen island with a spoon in one hand and comic in the other – a privilege of being an only child.

I set the coffees down on the island with shaky hands, then took a seat on the stool next to him. My mind was racing with possibilities of what could happen, of who those strange men were. I was worried about Wanda, and I hated myself for not going to her straight away.

When Sam asked what was wrong, I answered him honestly. I told him all about the people in the café, their creepy-ass smiles and how they had guns they clearly weren't afraid to use.

"I'm sure they're just soldiers passing through," Sam assured me, rubbing a hand on my back. "You know, Mindy from algebra has a brother in the army."

I nodded, coming to the conclusion that after discovering our town was harbouring an all-powerful sorceress, I was just paranoid.

"You're probably right," I concluded, deciding that a bunch of men with guns hanging out in a café was far from the weirdest thing I'd ever seen.

Sam scoffed. "I'm always right," he said, jumping up and pulling me off the stool. "Come on, we're gonna be late to school."

I sighed but let him guide me to the door, picking up my bag and following him one.

Before I knew it, I was in PE, standing in a line and waiting to be put on a team for dodgeball. It was a tradition to have at least one giant game per year, but I was most definitely not prepared for it this time around. Despite having no athletic prowess, it was true that I turned into an absolute beast every dodgeball match. Not necessarily in hitting others but in excelling at getting out of the way, which is probably the best skill to have when six-foot-something, jacked 18-year-olds are hurtling hard rubber at your head.

Luckily, I was on a team with Sam, so I'd at least have a human shield if things turned sideways.

"I'm not sacrificing myself for you again this year," Sam whispered to me during our team huddle, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. I let out a snort.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

The blond gave me a look that told me he knew I had every intention of pushing him in front of me if worse came to worse. He was my best friend, but trivial things like that meant nothing when balls were flying my way.

"Okay, go team!" Our captain shouted, and we all cheered back in response, standing as far back as we could with the number of people our side of the court. We were a mass of limbs and nerves, anxiously awaiting the starting whistle.

"This is going to be a fucking massacre," Sam sighed out, making me nod in agreement. One thing was for sure; we weren't all going to make it out alive...