John was looking at me confused. “What?” Half smiling like he thought I was joking. I said, “Run, Run now.” I was still shaking but this time it was adrenaline. (What am I doing?!)
He tried to brush me off, “I can’t run, don’t be ridiculous what about my treatments. I’m already late for my injection, I just wanted to talk to you firs…” (Oh bugger!)
I interrupted him “Late, how late?” Late, for a drug that keeps the ex hit-man’s telekinesis safety catch on; I didn’t think that’d go unnoticed….
I was right.
He was in the middle of explaining that it was due an hour ago when we were interrupted by the sounds of shouting and they were getting closer. No time for niceness and subtlety (not that I’m good at those things anyway)
“You’re not sick.” His face changed dramatically and I continued. “I don’t have time to explain you have to go, now!”
He pulled away. (Maybe he was frightened to leave.) “No I can’t just, look if they want to keep me here, lock me up… just because I can’t remember what I’ve done doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be held accountable.”
“They’re going to kill you…. They’re going to kill you unless you run…Now.” I definitely had his attention.
Until the sound of gunshots had both our attention and we ran. (Yes we. You’d run too if you were being shot at.)
Over the sound of gunfire John shouted to ask where we were going and I loudly explained that I hadn’t really thought further ahead than “run!” (also I definitely hadn’t planned to be the one doing the running.)
We got to one of the side gates and I had an idea.
I got him to hide (mostly so he wouldn’t see me, or not… if you get my meaning) while I ran to the guard tower. (Something that’s surprisingly easy when the guards can’t see you. But surprisingly hard without my goggles.) I pulled the switch to open the gates and then pulled out the control key and threw it away.
As the gates opened the guards ran to the tower, leaving only a few at the gates. We tried to sneak past them, tried being the operative word. (Who’d have thought guards at a secret government incarceration facility would be so well trained. Hmm)
Two of them jumped us and John again showed off some of his residual um, “skills”.
I tried to ignore the fact that his face looked chillingly familiar when he was done with them especially when a gunshot rung out and he hit the floor. (Everything felt like a slow motion scene in a movie, but still fast. That makes no sense, sorry.) I ran over and dropped to the ground to see if he was, well you know, if he was… anyway.
The bullet had barely grazed his arm (lucky… I guess.) and I asked him if he was okay but another gunshot meant he couldn’t hear me. (at least I think that’s why he didn’t respond.) He looked, well not at me, I mean he was looking at me but his eyes were a bit glazed and for a second I thought something was wrong. (Well apart from us breaking about a million laws, being chased, shot at, etc.)
He finally responded (he only took a few seconds but in ”being shot at” time that’s like three hours) that he was alright. We got up and ran again.
We ran fast and for what seemed like a very, very long time. (Not kidding, I still ache… well not just from the running but I’ll get to that later.)
After a while we saw some lights and found a little B&B attached to a pub in the middle of nowhere. (Perfect for all of your fugitive, honeymoon and “old man drinking” needs.)
I only had a wee bit of money on me (Oh I came off extra Scottish there) but it was enough to book a room. (Just one though.)
John had a lot of questions when we got to the room. (Although not the ones I thought he’d have.) He asked why I was doing this. (Okay I expected that question.) He asked how much trouble I was going to be in. (That too.) He asked what the injections were for (and that) and he had something else he wanted to know. “When I asked if you knew me before, you said you couldn’t tell me. It seems that circumstances have somewhat changed.” I wasn’t sure what he was getting at but I said that yes I did sort of know him before. I explained that it was complicated.
He walked closer to me and asked, “When you say complicated, did we, I mean were we…” (That was the question I didn’t expect.)
I turned into a stuttering mess of syllables and vowels, “Ah, haha, uh, ha, No, not at all, no, no, no. That’s not I mean ahem. No.”
He smiled and took another step forward. His smile (oh bugger his smile) a mix of wickedness and uncertainty, “Did you ever want to?”
To Be Continued…
