CRYPTIC | completed

2 5 %

END GAME
part i
•

Chapter 11 - BEGINNING OF THE END

~

Numbness momentarily left my mind. I frowned at Daxton's sudden claim. "You know where he is? How?"

"It took some bribes to get more information, but I've sent a team to check out the location."

I merely nodded and pulled my body closer to itself to keep warm on the frigid concrete.

"Look, I'm sorry for sending you down here," he cautiously spoke no louder than a whisper. "I wasn't sure how you'd handle anything after what happened."

"You don't need to tread around the fire. I know she's dead. I know whoever this guy is isn't stopping soon. I'll be fine." I kept my blank stare at the floor by my feet.

He nodded and left without another word. I looked to the window that I vividly saw in nightmares. I looked at the mounted camera. The small light that was on the last time I was here didn't shine. I dragged one of the chairs over to the window and stood on the seat. I peered out the cold glass over the dying grass of the dark courtyard. I flipped up the latch of the window and pushed out the glass.

They're not safe so long as I'm here, I thought, if Daxton's thought was right, whoever killed Marcie wouldn't stop until I was dead.

I stepped down from the chair and padded to the door. I pressed my ear against it and waited. Silence. I padded quietly back to the window, climbing onto the chair once more. I stuck out my head to see if I had missed anyone keeping watch. No one. I climbed out and quickly crawled to one wall to think of a plan. I took one more breath before I ran to the opposite side and started to climb up the rocky wall.

I peered around the short building's roof before hauling myself onto it. I crawled to the peak and looked to the ground below. I noticed one guard walking past. I was grateful for a nearby grove of thick trees just beyond the small building I sat on. I watched the guard walk out of sight around the corner and took a deep breath before sliding off the roof. I rolled my body so the impact wouldn't be solely on my feet, but also onto my shoulder and back during the roll. I sprinted to the grove and hid between the branches of the trees.

I looked around for any witnesses—none, to my relief, were around. I steadied my breathing once more and looked around for the best path to escape on. Luckily, night had quickly fallen and it was almost pitch black around me. I sprinted across the dying grass to the next tree grove and paused. The rest was trees. I ran through, being wary of cameras or barriers.

After a bit of running, I stopped in my tracks. A barbed wire fence stood before me, stretching as far as I could see to either direction. No cameras were set up here, nor were there people around. I pulled my sleeves over my hands and put a foot in between the rings, the other between a ring beside it. I climbed back down the other side and kept running.

* * *

I sat in the nearly-empty shop, eating a bowl of ramen with tea. My apartment, when I paid a visit, was too clean and smelled of bleach. Meaning there was probably someone dead there at one point and was cleaned up. I refused to stay and took a small, dark grey backpack with a change of clothes, a blue medical mask, cash, a notebook and pencils, and a tiny pocket knife I stole from my father when I was five or six—back before he died.