Zodiac

Chapter 1 - A Compass Found Me

The splashing of water broke the silence of the street. The stamping of footsteps send splatters of mud droplets into the air as the man runs down the street of Mexico. He looks tired; his eye bags are thick and heavy. His expression shows a combination of exhaustion, fear and determination. He seems older than he is though– around 50, maybe. He also looks strong despite his age. 

The moonlight is his only source of light. It isn’t much, but it is enough to light his way towards the direction he seeks. His legs are sore from running nonstop. How long has he been running… 10 minutes? 30 minutes? An hour? He has lost track of time but one thing’s for sure – he cannot stop under any circumstances. Every second counts. He has to make it before they do. He has to succeed before they managed to hunt him down.

He slips his hand into his pocket as he runs, not hesitating to slow down. He retrieves a black item. It is round and it glows faint silver. ‘Good,’ he thought, ‘I’m on the right track.’

He clenches to his white shirt which is now filthy, stained with mud and soaked with sweat. His breathing is growing difficult, he breathes through his nose hard and exits all the carbon dioxide and water vapor through the opening of his mouth. Cold sweat forms on his forehead and trickles down the side of his cheeks, wetting his sideburn. His pace gradually decreases with each step he takes. Slowly, his running turns into a jog as energy drains from his body. He isn’t going fast but it’s just enough to allow him to reach his destination.

An alley now appears in a distance. He pushes himself faster as the object in his hands glow brighter. Hope begins to rise inside him. He slips it back into his pocket and focuses on his path. His aching legs make it difficult to even jog so he limps somewhat along the way.  He is almost there, he encourages himself.

A young man appears at the alley, leaning by the cold bricks of the wall. His expression is dull, barely able to read. He looks like he’s in his mid twenties, perhaps 25 or so. He wears a black hat which makes his features impossible to see. A stunning belt surrounds his waist. There are two gun holsters attached to it on either side, with a silver gun in each pouch. He reminds anyone about the legendary Zoro. In his hand is a coin, which he is busy flipping it into the air continuously. The coin is definitely not from around. It is too big, about two inches, and it is made of pure gold. He doesn’t bother to look at the old man – maybe he hasn’t noticed him or he just doesn’t find any interest in the fatigued man.

The old man collapses to his knees just a few yards away from him. He looks worn-out, his face is pale and his throat is dry. He hasn’t eaten, nor has he drunk for two days. He held out his hands to the ground to support the weight of his body from falling along. His whole body is shaking. “Please…” His voice trembles from the exhaustion, “They are searching for me. I have no more strength to move on…” his words come out feeble.

The young man averts his attention to the old man. His face shows no expression, no sympathy in his eyes at all. The young man stops his fingers from flipping his golden coin; a smirk creeps into sight at the edge of his mouth. He sticks both hands into his pockets and paced towards the fallen man, taking his time, not worried if the man is on the verge of dying.

The young man bends down just enough to have a closer look at him, “Hmm…” He mutters quietly. “Must be some rough night, huh?” The old man lifts up his head with the last of his strength, as if his head weighs a ton. He is able to see the stranger’s face now. His eyes are dark and his front hair is long, covering part of his right eye. He has a naughty yet irritating aura around him. The worn-out man means to beg for help but whatever he wants to say comes out as a groan. The guy straightens himself up but still has his gaze fixed on the man in front of his feet. He rubs his chin with two of his fingers as if to think if it would be worth his effort helping this old man. Silence occupies the night for a minute or two, then, the young man comes to his conclusion – he offers his hand to help.