"Stop the girl! She has the notes!" Cried a scratchy voice.
I clambered up to the window,dropped out, and raced onto the open street. The night was soggy and cold, which didn't help my cause. My feet splashed through puddles while I made my way into an abandoned building. The floor crackled under my feet as I heard angry men exiting the building I escaped from. I picked up my pace, as much as humanly possible, running out a door opposite of me and entering a better lit street.
Deciding that zig zagging would take to much out of me I ran strait down the road, heading into town. I passed many places where I could ask to hide, but something kept me moving. Before a three way stop I saw a quaint apartment building with the lights still on. My old shoes dashed up the steps and a shaking fist banged on the door.
"Please open up!" I cried. Shouts of men came from the direction of the docks.
"I'm sorry but were closed." Sighed a tired lady from a slit in the door.
"Please! I'm begging you! Men are trying to kill me!" I replied, almost in tears.
"Let her in. I'll deal with her." Said a new voice.
For a moment, only the sound of closing footsteps echoed off the abandoned building. Then the latch slid off. But before I could jump inside, a gun shot rang through the night. I collapsed in a heap and clutched my bleeding leg.
"Are you alright?! " asked the new voice. I glanced up and quickly recognized him. Tintin, Belgium's famous reporter.
"Yeah. Pay no attention to the blood on my pant leg." I tried to laugh it off, as I do in most horrid situations, but I couldn't keep myself together.
"Call the police!" He instructed the women, who was now fully awake. She rushed into a side office as more gunfire attempted to wake the whole neighborhood.
"Can your stand?" He asked laying on his stomach beside me.
"I'll crawl in, you shut the door and turn off the light." I huffed. Pain shot up to my back as I rolled into the building. A white Wire Fox Terrier. He leapt on my stomach and growled at the door.
" I think he likes you." Smiled Tintin as he sat next to me. His cheeks were rosie and his clothes a mess. Clearly he had tried to get dressed in a hurry. His eyes matched his blue shirt and his red hair had a nice flip up in the front.
"Names Rowen. Thanks for your help, but I need to leave right away." I groaned as I tried to stand up.
"Leave?! You can't even stand up." He laughed as sirens raced onto the scene.
The gunshots ceased and men's voices were long gone.
Two gentle men opened the door as Tintin managed to sit me in a chair. They looked identical and wore the same suit, hat and carried matching canes.
"Thomson and Thompson!" Smiled Tintin in relief.
"Hello Tintin!" The greeted together.
"Who's this lovely lady?" Asked one.
"This is-"
"I'm Macy Catcher. New in town. Was on the street when the gun men arrived." I interrupted. Tintin glanced at me but didn't question it.
"Do you know the men?" They asked.
"No."
They kept asking questions and I kept lying. Finally, Tintin pointed out I needed fast medical attention. He asked to do it himself.
"Are you sure ?" Asked Thompson.
"Can you do that?" Asked Thomson.
"I wrote about a surgeon once. I should do fine." He smiled. I panicked.
As soon as the men bid us goodnight and the older lady went to bed mumbling about people shot on he door step, I reached for the door.
"Sorry, no. I need to look at your leg. " he said, picking me up and slinging me over his shoulder.
"Ow! Your shoulder isn't very comfortable." I complained.
"I'm sorry. I'll try and have it fixed." He replied sarcastically.
He dropped me on a red chair and began to look over my leg. I studied him. He looked intellectual. He had solved many problems and I needed help. But I can't let anyone know.
"Well, there's lots of good news and few peices of bad news." He sighed,standing up.
"Bad first please."
He walked into a closet still talking. "You'll have to stay off the leg for a day or two at the most. Good new is the bullet barely went under your skin. No muscle damage and no artery ruptured."
"Good. I need to move out tonight."
"What are you in such a rush for?" He questioned, sewing up my leg with thick thread. "And why lie to the police."
"I have to save a friend and save Prince Philip." I replied slowly.
He paused rapping my leg for a moment to stair at me. I knew he was looking for sincerity and this time I was being truthful. "Sounds like a story to me. Let me pack a bag. Do you need anything? Clothes? Shoes?"
"Who said you were coming?" I asked, limping after him into his room.
"I'm sure the Captain will have something at Merlin Spike for you to wear. I best bring you some of my shoes and socks though."
"Hey! I asked you a question."
He turned to me. "Either I come or I will tell the police"
I considered hitting him over the head and running. "Fine." I gave in. "But what I say goes."
"Yes, ma'am." He saluted.
"Can we leave for Merlin Spike tomorrow. I'm awful tired." I yawned.
"Sure. You-"
"I call the-"
He finished louder "the bed! I'll take the pullout bed."
I smiled. "Deal."
Before my head hit the pillow, I was out cold. Dreaming of Tintin, gun men and Professor Calculous.
