Runner

Chapter 2

The tops of my worn boots scuff along the pavement, as I walk my small routine trip around the crumbling building. I hated this. The city always made me nervous, how close could we get to the golden? they certainly weren't stupid, I had learnt my lesson there. They were always watching, tracking us, even though technically we were dead. They knew the truth- runners like us don't give up that easily. I kept walking the perimeter of the old dairy- Alex was doing the raid himself today, said we needed more food, and the diary wasn't all that big. We were planning on going back- well, I was planning on going back, Alex wasn't too happy about it. The risk of being in the city alone- civilisation, posed a threat. Camera's everywhere, our sketched pictures littered the walls- not many now, it had been 2 years. But my family and friends would not forget, my face may weaken in their memories, but to see me again would put the target on my forehead. My excuse to Alex was that I needed one last trip before we left for the country again. I told him that would be it, I would forget my family, I would move on so they could be safe. We could not stray far from the outskirts of the city, we needed the basic necessities. But time worries me, a Runner's life always makes you feel as if today could be your last. You think that way, you live that way. But I miss my family, and who knows what could have happened to them in my time spent away? were they alive? had the golden thought they knew where we were? I know that the best thing for me is to forget, but I cant. I have to go back. One last time.

But people don't forget. A Runner will always be a threat- even a family member cannot be trusted. From birth we are programed to be deathly afraid of Runner's. They were treated as worse than criminals, they were abominations of human nature. The Mantra ran through my head A Runner will only ever think of themselves, they will risk our lives for nothing. A Runner will only ever think of themselves. True to form we have to, either that or a sentence at the lake or death. I remember the first time I ever met a Runner- I was 14 and my friends and I were in a 24/7 petrol station, at 1am, I was inside grabbing a Malteser's packet when I saw her.

She had fiery red hair, unfortunately for her not very inconspicuous, and stepped through the sliding doors, gun scanning the room. Of course I now know the fatal mistake for her, she had not checked the perimeter properly- there was a back room. I was frozen, I couldn't believe she was real, stories had only told me about what they were. My heart hammered down, the weight of the moment stunning me as she pointed the gun at the tellers head, ordering for him to get what she wanted. He complied, obviously having never seen a runner in his life before, quickly grabbing the items. I was down the back, short enough even then to not be seen easily, as I saw the light in the room next to me flick on. The light flooded out from the bottom of the door and I breathed a sigh of relief. The golden would be here soon, they would keep me safe. Within 30 seconds the red headed lady was heading out the doors, wind caressing her hair, foot almost crossing the threshold, when the bullet went straight through her head. The Golden did not usually pull this trick, but she had obviously made a nuisance of herself, and she was too close to the city centre to be ignored, and let off with a lake sentence. She did not have to go to the lake, she had the easy way out. Sometimes I wonder if ever I was caught that maybe that would be the better option. If my time was out, I was out. I liked the sound of that, being captured for the rest of my life scared me more than I let on.