Endurance

Part One

Jack was already breaking the rules by being out this late. The sun had long since set, and the cold air was stinging his nose and fingers. As he turned onto Thatcher Street heading home, he heard a scream rip through the silent night. It was coming from the east side of the city, where the wealthy half lived. Normally, Jack would have kept walking, but he had never heard a scream like this before. One of pure terror. Immediately, he turned toward the sound, and started running.

It was easy to tell when he entered the rich part of the city. All the lamp-posts were lit, the ground was free of litter, and the stench of sewage was no longer over-whelming. The girl screamed again, a high-pitched wail. He was getting close. After two more blocks he saw them. Two large brutish looking men were walking toward a girl who was wearing a crimson cloak, with the hood pulled over her face. Jack guessed that she was his age.

Jack studied the situation. The men kept advancing, forcing her down an alleyway. Jack felt a sudden wave of anger directed at the men for pestering the girl, and at the girl for being so thoughtless by putting herself in this situation. No lady should be out alone at this time of night, Jack thought. But something else bothered Jack in the back of his mind. Why hadn’t anyone else shown up?

Something gleamed in one of the thug’s hands. Jack froze from his spot behind the lamp-post closest to the alleyway. The man was holding a long silver dagger in his hand, moving it side to side in a threatening manner. The girl let out another whimper as they disappeared from sight. Jack let loose a stream of profanity that would have his uncle rolling in his grave, before following the men toward the alleyway. 

As Jack got closer, he began to hear the voices of the attackers. They were rough and gravelly. 

Reaching the start of the backstreet, Jack peeked around the corner, scraping his face against the faded brick. “There is no where for you to hide now,” jeered one of the men. The only light came from the surrounding street lamps and the full moon, setting the man’s red hair aflame. His companion laughed; a mix between a smokers cough and a dog being strangled. Jack grimaced. 

The girl was now facing the assailants, slowly back-pedaling. The hood of her red cloak was still pulled low over her face, hiding it in darkness. The two men were so large, and the passageway so narrow, that they had to walk in a single file line. Jack took note of this, remembering his training. If he fought with the two men, he would normally be at an advantage. But the dagger added a level of difficulty. I can’t leave her. Jack starts forward, then freezes...

The girl had pulled down her hood, revealing her face, causing all the air in Jack’s lungs to be forced out. She was more beautiful than anyone he had ever seen. She had blonde hair that curled over her shoulders and high cheekbones. He had been right when he guessed that she was his age; she didn’t look like she could be over seventeen. Strangely, Jack couldn’t shake the feeling that he had seen her somewhere before.

Jack was even more compelled to save her, but the look in her eyes stopped him. Her dark blue eyes were focused on the men in front of her, with a look that turned Jack’s blood to ice. She does not look like girls I have seen in this part of the city, he thought.

Jack noticed the two brutes had stopped moving forward. He couldn’t see their faces from the entrance of the alleyway, but based on body language, they knew who she was. When the red-haired attacker whispered her name, the wind carried it to Jack’s ears. Scarlett Beaumont.