Not Alone

[Mithra]

I stood up from the wheelchair and walked over to where his body lay. The first round had taken the top of his skull off, the second lodged in his neck. I thank me for saving us, for confusing his vision, for deluding him; I take the gun from the man's cooling corpse and leave.

She ran quickly, darting through the wards like a wraith, always moving, staying just out of sight. Katie knew where to go; the skimmer parking was on the north side, and she was sure there’d be at least one that was unlocked. If not, and there was someone there already…Well, she had the gun. She shot past startled nurses and doctors to reach the door, only to find that it was one of the ones with an “If door is opened, alarm will sound” sign on it. Hell with it. She opened the door anyways and ran, trusting the pandemonium created by the alarm to keep people busy while she got a ride.

She found one three rows down from the door, a somewhat dingy machine of dubious integrity. She hoped it wouldn’t fall apart on her. Apparently, that was what the owner trusted to keep it from being stolen. For most thieves, it doubtless worked perfectly, but Katherine was no ordinary thief. She had a date to keep, and she knew exactly where he was. She took a moment to kick the gun under the vehicle one spot over. Left here, right there, follow the lines and pray the cops don’t spot you. The classic mantra of the underage driver, but it fit well. It took here about twenty minutes to reach her destination: the home of Carl Sandberg, ex-Homecoming date, and she was just in time. His bus turned the corner towards his stop as she got out of the skimmer and went up to his room. Really. People were far to trusting about their property’s security to lock the front door. She fingered the small knife in her pocket. She didn't want to use it again if she could help it.

---

Feedback