Rogue

Chapter 3 - Assault

Chapter 3 – Assault

Sera made it to the gates late. Leto didn’t mind – it was a relief watching the little girl enjoy herself. Leto listened to the girls singing familiar songs as they played “Under Under” and “A Sailor” amongst the soccer-playing boys. She walked over to a chalk-drawn square on the concrete. The thud of a tennis ball hitting the ground punctuated the conversation of the primary students.

“Come on, Sera,” she called. “Greet your friends, we need to go.”

Sera let the ball bounce away from her as she gathered her backpack and jersey. One of the other girls rescued it, and held it to Leto shyly.

“Thank you,” she said, taking the ball. The girl blushed and ran off to the safety of her friends.

“Go get Brian so long,” instructed Leto as they reached the house. “I’m going to go to the shop quickly. We need bread.”

She fiddled with the note in her pocket. Fifty rands. She refused the money at first – but when Mr Hendriks explained that it was a reward that he’d given to the other Olympiad participated she accepted it gratefully. Now, she could get some decent food for her brother and sister.

The small superette was on the other side on the main road and around a corner. She disliked visiting it – it was too close to the train-tracks and tucked out of sight from passers-by. She kept her eyes on the ground as she walked – sticking to the edge of the pavement where the sunlight was instead of clinging to the shadowy walls. She regretted keeping her schoolbag – it could easily draw the wrong kind of attention. She kept her hands in her blazer pocket, clenched around the R50. She heard a few drunken calls at her side, but she ignored them with a firm resolve. Avoiding eye-contact was key. Once you met someone’s gaze, they made you a target and evasion would be tricky. Aaron had taught her that. She increased her pace until she saw the red-and-white sign that announced the store. She slipped inside; she could smell cigarette and Robertsons spices. The owner leaned against the counter, discussing the local tabloid with one of his patrons. The greasy, middle-aged man paging through the newspaper was the source of the smoke. She buttoned up her blazer self-consciously as he leered at her. She made a dash for the bread, picked up the cheapest brand and took it to the till. She tried to hide the distinctive, pink note under her palm as she paid, but the other customer still noticed it.

“That’s a lot of money for a Barrysville girl,” he commented. She blocked out his voice and shifted away from him. The shopkeeper handed over her change and bread in a plastic packet. She pocketed the money, keeping her hand around it.

She knew that she was being watched as she walked down the road. She didn’t have to lift her eyes to feel the back of her neck prickling and catch the shadows flitting at the edge of her vision. Increasing her pace to match her hammering heart, she restrained herself from running. The plastic bag dangling from her wrist was awkward, but she didn’t dare stop and put it in her backpack. She could hear the cars on the highway and the train tracks rattling. She tried to think positively. It was daytime, the sun was bright and she didn’t have any valuables on display. The money in her pocket wasn’t a lot, in comparison. No-one would harm her for a measly R50.

They struck as the train passed. Someone grabbed her from behind, wrapping a hand around her mouth to stifle a scream. Automatically, she jammed her elbow upwards where she judged her attacker’s solar plexus. She was too slow. Another hand locked her wrists together. The plastic bag was wrenched from her arm. Fingers prised at her fist as another arm ripped her schoolbag from her back. Her books thumped against the floor as they hit it.

“Just give the money, pop, and we won’t hurt you more than necessary.”

The voice in her ear was rough and cruel. She uncurled her fingers, surrendering the cash. Her heart pounded with fear as it shot adrenaline through her. To her surprise, they released her. Then, before she could fix their appearances to her memory, something hard hit the back of her head. Her legs buckled and she fell.