Pieces Part 1

ManHunt

The fall was dangerously within reach. I could risk broken bones and shrug off the pain afterward or divert the officers through some nifty tactics.

I always loved a good strategy.

Estimating the others' positions by sound, I had a sizeable distance between myself and the officers.

They wouldn't see this hiding spot coming.

Bracing for the impact, I jumped off the cliff and grasped for the railings on an opposing pier. I barely missed it as my palms swelled on the iron bars. The pain was gruesome, but I had to remind myself—prison would be even worse.

Never getting to bring justice to Tina's death would be unforgivable.

Puffing my cheeks, I exhaled heavily to expel my discomfort, raising myself as high as I could go to kick my feet up to the iron bars that hung in front of me. I successfully hoisted myself behind the barricade of the concrete bridge. I watched as officers rushed down the apartment cliff without thinking to check whether I had hidden in this direction.

Well, they split to see if I turned around this corner—they just forgot to crane their sight slightly higher.

Now was not the time for pats on the back. At the radio messages of his inferiors, the Sergeant raged, "How did that boy disappear like that?" If only he knew. "We have a manhunt, all units, be on the lookout for an MOE RICHARDSON! The suspect is wanted for MURDER! Lethals are authorized."

Sometime between my jumping to this cliff, the trespasser from before had slithered up to the Sergeant's back. "YES, GET HIM; he can't be far! He has got some explaining to do." He shouted in support.

The Sergeant jumped at his reappearance. "How did you get over here?!"

Before he could get an answer, an officer rushed from the apartment to his side. "Sergeant! Who is taking the evidence? They left this bloody garment." He presented a stained black coat inside of a plastic evidence bag.

The trespasser snatched it in his hand. "I'll take that—"As he grabbed it, his voice broke into a whimper. "Why... is my jacket... drenched in blood..."

He turned to yell at Amber. "This is what happens every time you—"

But Amber was gone.

He swiveled erratically in search of her. "Amber? Where did you go?" He probably would've continued the oblivious act much longer had he not sensed the breathing of a boar down his back.

The fuming Sergeant yelled, "Get OUT OF MY CRIME SCENE!"

Tall tree trunks became a haze in the periphery of my eyes. I was running so fast that I might as well have been soaring. Blood livened my speed as my heart thumped louder than my feet thrashed against the soil.

I mentally ran through a list of all the places to go. I then decided I could at least go there "for the night."

I turned to run towards the city. Glass obelisks and skyscrapers began to poke out of the foliage. When I was just at the tip of the point of entry, I took a second to breathe. I punched the nearest tree, stumbling, "How did this happen??? Tina... Is it my fault?"

I was holding a firm hold on the tree when I noticed cop cars started flooding through the street to reach the entrance of the beach shores.

Once they cleared out, I started ninjaing through the backways of the city.

As I crossed one street, a news reporter noticed me and pointed their camera at me. Then, two and three, and in seconds, I was suffocated in microphones and lenses.