An Imaginary Line

Chapter Twelve: Chasing Rebels

"Over here!" called Jack, jumping and sliding across a huge metal examination table and out the door just behind it. Harper leapt up and ran along the length of the table, escaping out the door. She was followed by Charlie who misjudged the distance, bumped into the table, and stumbled around on his knees before crawling out the door rather clumsily. Last, Leigh threw himself down in mid-sprint, feet first, and glided right underneath it, popping up and out the door in a solid run, perfectly timed and executed.

The procession of runners ended with Jack jumping into his incredibly expensive sports car and the others quickly doing the same. Just as Charlie fell in and onto Harper and slammed the door behind them, Leigh grabbed hold of the handle and re-opened it just before Jack slammed his foot on the gas and screeched out of the parking lot practically on two wheels. Leigh fought to maintain his grip, but soon lost out to the 1500 horsepower engine.

The three escapees tried to catch their breath as Jack tore through three sets of red lights with barely a second thought.

"You know that guy?" Charlie huffed.

"No, he's just the one they like to send after me, apparently," Harper answered between breaths.

"That's not usually how it works," Charlie mentioned for consideration.

"I'm taking you guys to a safe place, all right? Nobody will be able to track you back there."

"All right, thanks Jack. Thank you for doing this."

He smiled enthusiastically, heart racing and sweat beading up on his forehead.

They sped along the twisty road, obeying most traffic laws, but sending others directly to the dustbin, while they deliberated on their next move.

"Once we get there, we should probably lie low for a little while. Little slip ups like that don't always go quite so well," said Charlie.

"How'd they find us there?" asked Harper. She sat on the edge of the backseat and leaned into the front half of the car, turning to Jack, "How did he know?"

"Beats me sunshine. You know... According to your results... Well, you shouldn't be surprised if normal, decent people try to turn you in for—"

"Watch out!" yelled Harper. Jack put every ounce of power he had into the brakes,screeching to a stop so as not to hit the dishevelled, grey-haired man with raggedy old clothes and a gardening spade in his right hand.

The car knocked him over and into a newspaper dispenser, but he caught himself and stuck the landing. The rain came down on the near-accident and nobody immediately did anything. After a few seconds, they reacted.

"It looks like he's okay," ventured Charlie. "Homeless?" he appraised, tentatively.

"Not even. Just a cog," answered Jack, running his fingers through his hair and then straightening out his tie.

Harper, of course, was the only one to jump out and try to catch the man as he began to walk away.

"Are you all right?" she called out to him.

The man was clearly unaccustomed to that brand of question. He looked back briefly, his face shrouded in a vague annoyance. He grunted, not necessarily in answer to her question, and kept on his way.

"Get back in the car," urged Jack, glancing at his watch. Charlie's eyes simply darted back and forth from the old man and back to his friend as he looked on in silence. "Come on, hop to it," Jack pressed.

Harper approached the car door and hovered there a moment. With her arm resting on the top of the car, her gaze followed the old man as he was slowly joined by several other workers, all following a similar trajectory, to a single vanishing point. She thought. The time ticked by and Jack huffed impatiently in the driver's seat.