A Dangerous Game

Chapter 2

I make my way through the rain, my figure crouched against the downpour. Water soaks into my sweatshirt and drips down my face, an occasional droplet slithering down my spine and making me shudder. I've woken up to frost coating my sleeping bag for the last week; now is the worst time to fall asleep wet. At best, I'll be up all night shivering and searching for any kind of warmth. Worst case scenario, someone finds me in the morning with blue lips and no heartbeat.

I've considered hiding out in one of the Tube tunnels, but that's a last resort. Anything can happen down there, the crimes ranging from defacing public property to much worse. It's where the junkies hang out, the people who have let drugs destroy their life and will do anything for their next fix. You never want to get in the path of an addict and his drugs. I made the mistake once and earned myself a nasty scar across my stomach.

I sigh, almost choking on rain when I inhale again. I'm not sure how much more of this I can take as my foot sinks into a puddle, emerging soaking wet. Finally, I give in and stumble into the nearest shop. A man looks up, already giving me a scowl. The few customers in the store give me odd looks, as if bothered that I didn't bring an umbrella. I wonder if they know I can't afford such luxuries, or if they are really entitled enough to be personally offended as my clothes drip onto the grungy floor.

"Anything I can help you with?" grunts the man behind the counter. I hesitate. The only reason I haven't been kicked out yet is because he can't be sure I'm not a potential customer, and business is business. I could bluff my way through it, but judging from the look on his scruffy face this man wouldn't hesitate to call the police on me. I'm about to turn around and leave when something in the back aisle catches my eye. I smile, stepping farther in.

"Yes, actually. Do you have any lighters? Oh, and any wire?"

The man sucks in his gut and draws his eyebrows together in a way I suppose he intends to be intimidating. I refrain from rolling my eyes, knowing I could still very well be denied service. "What for?"

"That's my business," I reply. His eye twitches, so I add to my statement. "Well, my father's business. If I'm being honest, I have no idea what he's up to. I'm his errand boy now, I suppose." The lie flows fluently from my lips, a small part of me cringing as the man's shoulders relax. Relief blocks the feeling out and I give an easy going smile to add to my illusion. I'm just another kid, running errands for my working class father. I imagine he can relate.

"Wire's in the back, and we have lighters right here at the cashier." He reaches to the side, grasping a small silver box in his meaty hand. He flicks it open, revealing a flickering flame. I smile and nod, making my way slowly to the back of the store. My shoes squeak and my hair drips into my eyes, but I brush it aside and busy myself examining the wire. Really, I'm running calculations in my head. Ten pounds for two meters of wire, thin enough to be flexible yet still too strong to easily break. Plus the lighter, so probably around eleven pounds. That's enough for a decent meal, and almost all the money I've been saving up. But it's either my safety tonight or a supper next week, and I've already had enough food to last me a few days. For a moment I let my mind wander back to only a couple hours before, meeting the Louis Tomlinson. He was nothing like I expected, yet at the same time, I wasn't surprised when he gave out money like it was candy. Maybe he was entitled, but his business card now rests in my pocket, tucked next to my old polaroid.

"Found what you're looking for?" The owner asks, leaning over the counter to watch me. I shake my head, sending drops of water through the air.

"Got it, but thanks." I grip the packaging tight as I stroll towards him. On the way I spot a poncho, advertising as only seven pounds. After a moment of hesitation I grab it as well. I'd prefer to give my clothes a chance to dry, and it might offer some protection where I'm planning on spending the night. When he asks for my payment, it takes all my willpower not to flinch as it disappears into the cash register.