On The Run

Chapter 10

Christian was jolted awake when he heard two loud bangs in succession near him. He lifted his head up groggily. The pain coursed through his body and it made him weak, and unable to get up to his feet. All he could do was lay there on the floor. Christian had no idea where he was. He didn't know much except the pain.

"Grey!" An unfamiliar male voice called out to him. "Grey!" A hand, belonging to the same voice, reached out to him, jostling him. "Get up!"

Slowly, Christian opened his right eye first, then the left, and gradually looked up at the man before him. The older man, dressed in his pajamas, knelt beside Christian, looking back earnestly.

"Come on, Christian, time to get up." The man said it again, this time more urgently.

"Fuck!" Christian growled. The room around him spinning. He closed his eyes and he sat up gingerly. "What the fuck!" His hand shot to his head trying to dull the throbbing. Even that movement was too much. Did he get shit faced and not remember? "What happened?" He barely managed a whispered.

"Men in black stormed my house. Don't you remember?" The man looked confused as Christian was feeling. "They took your girl and beat the shit out of you before I took them out! No one messes with me and mine and gets away with it." The man stood up and out of the way, showing several bodies in the wake.

The events of the night flashed before Christian so fast, he wasn't sure if what he saw was true. A myriad of emotions washed over his handsome face. "Oh god, Vern." A tear slipped down Christian's. The stinging betrayal from someone whom he considered a brother. "My own best friend screwed me over and stole my girl." He looked up at Vern as he slowly got to his feet. "The motherfucker is gonna pay for this."

All the shit that Jack put Christian through, he could get passed that. He was professional, trained for all kinds of situations, accept his best friend taking the woman he loved. That was well beyond the invisible line drawn in the sand between brothers, best friends even. You don't steal another guy's girl without paying the consequences.

"What are we waiting for? Let's go get your girl!" Vern was ready to go but there were a few problems that he didn't seem to notice in his excitement.

"Uh, Vern..." Christian scratched at his five 0'clock shadow stubble. "You might want to change your clothes."

"Oh..." Vern looked down in his embarrassment.

"Secondly, I can't ask you to do more than this. You have a wife and daughters think about. You need to be here for them." Christian was so thankful what Vern did. "You have to be here to explain all this." He jerked out his thumb at the dead bodies scattered all around. "But when you do, you can't mention me or Ana being here."

"You got it. I'll make sure there is no sign of you."

"They're gonna ask why they invaded your home."

"I have a pretty good idea what I'm gonna say. You don't worry about that."

"Thanks." Christian looked around the room. There was broke furniture, glass scattered around. "When I get this all settle, I'm gonna square this up with you."

"No don't worry about it."

Christian smiled at his new friend. It was good to have one person he could trust, besides Ana. Christian's mind had drifted back to his girl. Where did Jack take her? Christian would have to put himself into Jack's head to locate Ana.

"You're gonna need a ride." Vern tossed him a set of keys, which Christian caught with ease.

"I can't ask for these." Christian glanced at the keys and then at Vern.

"Don't worry about it. It's an old truck used on the farm. No one will miss it. It works good, all gassed up. She'll get you where you need to go."

"Thanks!" Christian gave one last look to Vern, grabbed his bag, and headed down the stairs, through the house, and out the bad door.

It was dark, but the sun was rising to the west. It was golden color, peaceful, and it some how gave Christian a bit of hope as he reached the bar door, opened it, and saw the truck. It looked to be 1940's or 1950's , the emblem indication the make. A chevy. It was rusty and looked like it was a red color at one time.

Christian made his way into the barn and over to the truck, reached for the handle, and opened it. Dust flew everywhere as he got inside and shut the door. He waved it out of the way as he stuck the key into the ignition and turned to start it. The truck coughed a bit and wheezed until the engine was roaring.  Christian the truck in drive and drove on out of the barn and out the the drive to the main road.

There was two choices to make. If Christian went the wrong way, he'd never see Ana again and Jack won. If Christian went the right way, he would get Ana and Jack would pay either by going to jail or dying. Christian looked left then right, then left and right again. What would Jack do? He always seemed to do the opposite of Christian. Always got himself into trouble.

The choice was made, Christian turned left, and headed down the road. He was sure this was the path that Jack would have taken. Jack would have a base of operation and it wouldn't be in the middle of no where. It would be in the middle of all the action. Right under the law enforcement's noses to keep an eye on everything and everyone involved.

This path would chance everything. This path would most likely lead him back home in Seattle. Christian would have a long drive ahead of him unless he managed to get his hands on a plane. Who did Christian know with a plane he trusted? Taylor. War vet. Former navy seal. Former CIA. Taylor was off the grade, didn't own a phone, didn't have internet, or electricity or plumbing. He lived off the land.

Christian decided heading to Taylor's was his best shot.

TBC