"I swear, he's bat-shit insane," Peter, James' best friend whispered to me. He was a humorous, bubbly and quite carefree guy but when it came to his friends he was the most loyal companion around. Right now, Peter didn't look like his usual self -- his hair was unkempt, he had a bruised bicep, and his face had blood smeared across it, already beginning to dry into a dark, crimson red.
"I know, what do we do?" I was sweating profusely, my hand on the door, wanting ever so badly to pull Anna out of the room and back into my arms. My wrench was in my other hand, tightly gripped. My muscles tensed up as I wondered about what had happened to the poor girl.
A thump was heard from the catwalks. A body had just slid a few metres down the staircase. The person was still unconscious.
James signalled everyone using his fingers. He held his index and middle fingers and pointed them towards the metal door like a finger gun, and counted down using his finger as well.
Five... All fingers were up.
Four... He put his thumb down.
Three... His index and thumb were put together in a circle.
Two... Just his index and middle fingers.
One.
He pulled down hard on the door's handle and kicked it open, rushing in to knock out a sentry standing by the door. Peter and I followed, whacking people with our wrenches. Out of the corner of my eye, someone had hit Bryan in the eye. He was holding Anna by her shoulders, a wicked, twisted, delirious look on his face. Maybe he had gone insane. He snarled and kicked the guy back, laughing and sneering after that.
His friends were putting up a good fight against us, in fact, we were slowly being overpowered. An enemy sneaked up behind me, whacking me in the back with a wooden chair. I fell to the ground, groaning, my eyes shut tight in a moment of extreme pain. I lay down in a foetal position on the ground, groaning some more, sweating profusely. "Anna..."
Shouts and yells were heard in the room, filled with many empty styrofoam boxes and plenty of wooden chairs stacked around the edges. "Someone get the girl! Just get the girl!" I yelled, desperate to save the only person we came here for.
I opened my eyes and my vision was more blurry than ever before. I reached to my back and touched it. No pain. I tried to straighten and stretch my back. I almost died.
Holding the edge of a large styrofoam box, I managed to help myself onto my feet, vision still as blurry as before. My wrench was gripped tightly in my hand. I saw James being beat up by two of Bryan's gang members. I hit one hard on the head, sending a hard, cold metallic sound ringing across the room and the gang member crashing down onto the floor immediately. He dropped his baseball bat and I passed it to my brother, who caught it and beat the living daylights out of the other gang member.
Together, we ran past all the fighting and yelling towards Bryan, who had just left the room via a concealed back door that had styrofoam boxes stacked up against it to hide it. We followed and ran out, descending a metal staircase that ran down the side of the exterior of the building. It was slippery and unsafe, but Bryan ran and ran like a maniac.
Anna saw me. She started bawling, reaching her hands out to me.
"I'm coming, Anna!" I yelled, stepping down the staircase as quick as I could, onto a catwalk.
All in a split second, as we were going to turn a corner, Bryan turned his head back to look at me. As soon as he did, Peter popped out from behind the corner and hit Bryan square in the shins with his metal pole.
Bryan dropped Anna on the catwalk with a crash and she slid a few metres ahead. Bryan yelled with pain and began to sob, slumping onto the railing and knocking himself unconscious as his head hit the metal railing. "Anna, I'm here. Ryan's here," I told her, running right next to her and picking her up.
She looked into my eyes, tears running down her face, still bawling, "Ryan... Ryan..."
"I'm here, I'm here." We were caught in an embrace and stayed like that for minutes on end, Anna crying unceasingly. I was crying myself, combing my fingers through her hair, hugging her tightly.
James and Peter sat on the catwalk in exhaustion, grinning as they glanced across at me and Anna, our precious intimate moment of reunion.
"Don't go."
"I won't."
YOU ARE READING
The Fountain Girl
Teen FictionOne ordinary teenage boy. One ordinary toddler girl. The most fascinating of discoveries, most daring of adventures, and most memorable of moments.