The Great Escape

At five past noon, Genevieve glanced at the clock once more, thinking it unusual that he wasn't there yet. Bartholomew was a very punctual person, and she couldn't remember the last time he showed up even a mere five minutes late. Certainly, something had to have come up, but she was at a loss of what to do. Did he want her to wait, or should she leave before she blew their cover?

Even if she did leave, where would she go? For years her father had been beating her. Genevieve had been nearly dead when she met Bartholomew. How was she supposed to survive if the plan the two of them had set up failed? It was supposed to be a new start; just the two of them together against the world.

Just then, she heard the door to the storage room open. Kristofferson, the store clerk, walked quickly threw the doorway. Lighting up the room and momentarily blinding her, the light from the outside gave Genevieve the ability to see the figure appear behind the keeper of the store and raise something above his head before quickly bringing it down. Muffling her gasp with her hand, she watched as the figure grew closer and came into focus, and she saw that it was, indeed, Bartholomew.

Now next to the unmoving body, Bartholomew kneeled down, and placed his first two fingers on Kristofferson's neck, no doubt checking for a pulse. On his knees he stayed, whispering out her name, and she whispered back once her breathing had calmed down. Patiently he waited as she crawled out from under her little hiding spot, before grabbing her arm and pulling her out of the storage room and out the back door of the general store.

Quickly they ran towards the big oak tree that they had been meeting at for the past few months. Resting for a few seconds once they got there, she saw Bartholomew grab a sack on the larger side before grabbing her hand again. Sprinting as fast as she could in all of her garments, Genevieve desperately tried to keep up with him.

Ten minutes had past, though it felt five times as much, before she could see the train come into view, and he pulled her aside. Under another tree they waited until they saw the cars slowly pull out, before rapidly beginning to speed up. Vainly, she mourned a moment for her beautiful rose gown, the last thing she possessed from her late mother, which had been almost completely ruined from all of the running and jumping through the woods. Waiting for Bartholomew to give the word, Genevieve gathered her skirts in her hands, preparing for the perilous run in which they would need to take to reach the train as it continuously sped up as the seconds passed.

Xylographical images on the tree next them caught her attention for a mere second before Bartholomew was dragging her again, this time with fervor, desperately trying to reach the minuscule platform that would soon be upon them. Yanking on her arm as hard as he could, he flung her small frame up onto the waiting metal landing of one of the cars before jumping up himself, scraping a knee on the rusty element. Zestfully they sat upon the small platform, staring off into the woods together, free at last.