The Seventh Avenger

Chapter 5: Old and New Faces

          EDITED: 17/02/2023

          WORD COUNT: 7,636

          The sound of an alarm clock blaring throughout the motel room wakes me from my deep slumber. I weakly raise my arm up to blindly tap at the small yet annoying machine to turn it off, groaning in a mixture of relief and exhaustion as I roll onto my back and blink my sleepy eyes up at the roof. The sun blaring through the gaps in the dust-covered curtains leads me to believe that it is sometime in the late morning. A quick glance to the empty bed to my right informs me that Bruce is already up and about, though where exactly I don't know.

          After a week and a half of walking, flying and catching buses whenever we could, we finally arrived in Willowdale, Virginia, late last night. It had been far too late to go and find Bruce's friend who could help us, so we had decided to find the nearest motel go sleep in just for the night. Bruce hadn't been too fond of the idea when I had first suggested it, but I managed to convince him that it was for one night only, and it sure as hell would beat sleeping on the streets, which posed a greater risk itself. Out there, we were exposed. Vulnerable. In a motel, at least, we were safe and sleeping on something a lot more comfortable than the hard ground or a sharp bench.

          Once our room was booked, we briefly discussed a game plan for the morning, before passing out the moment that our heads hit the pillow. Before passing out, we had managed to decide that we would sneak into the old lab when everyone was on their lunch break, download the data, and then get the hell out of dodge, heading to the friend of Bruce's who would hopefully help us and lay low until we figure out our next move.

          Lifting my head to glance at the blurry numbers flashing on the screen of the alarm clock, I learn that it's half past eleven in the morning. According to Bruce, all the staff break for lunch around one o'clock, meaning that the lab would likely – and hopefully – be empty then. I had insisted on getting to the university earlier than that, however, just so that we can get a good scope of the area and make sure that we don't miss our window of opportunity. Sighing, and oh so badly wanting to stay in bed as long as I can, I push my lazy urges down and pull myself upright.

          It doesn't take me long to shower and dry my hair, and when I exit the bathroom I am greeted with the sight of Bruce sitting on the edge of his bed, two Styrofoam cups in his hands. He glances up at me from underneath his tattered, grey cap, and stands up to offer me one,

          "Here. Wasn't sure what you wanted, so I, um, just stuck with your regular hot chocolate."

          "Thanks." I eagerly accept the drink and bring it up to my lips to sip. It's a tad on the cold side and there's not nearly enough chocolate flavour in it, but I drink it nonetheless. Motel drinks have never been that great anyway.

          "How'd you sleep?"

          He shrugs. "This, uh, this is the first time in a long time that I've stayed in a motel, so um, not that great. Couldn't really sleep without thinking that Ross or someone was just gonna barge in and find us at any moment..."

          I hum, taking another sip of the drink. Living on the run for the past few years has left him with a great sense of paranoia that I doubt is hard to shake. Looking over his shoulder wherever he went has become second nature at this point – it would take a lot for him to shake it off.

          "Well, hopefully after today, we're one step closer to making that change."

           A flicker of a brief and tiny smile spreads across his lips at my optimism, but before he can say anything my phone starts to vibrate and ring from where it is nestled in the back pocket of my jeans. Reaching back to pull it out, I feel my face fall as I am greeted with the sight of Clint's name flashing across the screen.