He raced along the highway, glancing repeatedly over his shoulder at the
policemen riding him down en masse. Piercing sirens and whirring helicopter
blades made his head vibrate to the point of madness and he gave the bike
more speed despite the dangerous curves of the road that threatened to throw
him from the seldom-traveled concrete road. They were falling behind him slowly,
the boxy police cars slowed by the turns that his cycle slipped over like
water. However, the choppers were still a force to be reckoned with, and there
was little cover in the area. He took a deep, shaky breath and pushed for
more speed. It was dangerous to go so fast on the motorcycle, but… then
again… getting caught was even more dangerous.
Finally, one of his hideouts came into sight, a decrepit, abandoned building
that may have once served a congregation as a church. Now, it was his home…
a place where he could hide from the eyes of men. He lifted the front wheel
of the bike up as he crossed over the rickety bridge that led inside, sending
rotting boards crashing into the ravine about ten feet down.
Magic overtook him, embracing him in her wispy arms and hiding him from the
eyes of those in pursuit. Hidden behind a decaying wall that served as a secret
panel, he glanced out at the police cars that had pulled up, raising clouds
of dust in their wake. He could hear the pounding footsteps and the slamming
of car doors, the glare of a flashlight momentarily dazzled his apprehensive
eyes as two uniformed cops entered the room.
He stilled his breath, afraid that even with the outside distraction of the helicopter blades, they might hear the rapid drumming of his heart.
They were coming closer, examining the moldy remains of the portrait guarding
his whereabouts. His fingers twitched anxiously on the handlebars of his silenced
bike as the flashlight once again dazed his eyes.
Startled, the bike sprang to life under him, leaping through the decomposing
plaster and smelly canvas. The two policemen were thrown back by the explosion
and as he tore out of the small building like a bat out of hell, he vaguely
recognized the sound of a gunshot and the sound of crashing glass. One of
them must have shot off his gun by accident.
He ripped his attention away from the road and rapidly tailing cops, searching
his mind’s eye for what had happened. The younger cop’s gun had
gone off when he fell. Fate had led that single bullet to the weak spot in
the chain that held the crystal chandelier aloft. It had crashed down on the
policemen and killed one, injuring the other’s leg almost beyond recognition.
This just keeps getting better…
He drove all night, not stopping despite the hunger that gnawed at his insides
and the fatigue that pulled at his eyes. At last his final hideout appeared
on the horizon, the furthest one from the city, surrounded by a vast forest.
It had once been the home of some nineteenth-century socialites with a fondness
for gothic architecture and Victorian gardens. Now, the gardens had grown
wild and overrun the place, fountains were cracked and covered in ivy although
many still worked. The mansion itself was in a state of vast decay, but it
served him and the magic well.
He stowed the bike away and took off on foot to prowl the grounds, as was his habit when anxious. Regardless of his narrow escape and subsequent exhaustion, his mind was alert and peaked. Something was out of place… nothing treacherous, from the scent of it…
But it warranted checking out nonetheless. He prowled the dense forest of
land, following the elusive scent, blending with the trees and barely even
disturbing the animals as he passed.
He stopped dead at the sight that met his eyes.
At one of the working fountains, its flowing waters sparkling in the early morning sunlight, on a cracked marble surface… was a beauty.
She wore a gauzy confection of a dress in antique shades of white, the Victorian
design enhanced by bare shoulders and a diving neckline. Her hair was a rich,
dark brown that flashed mahogany red in the sunlight, and was slightly damp…
as though she had bathed in the fountain earlier and was now lounging in the
warm radiance of day to dry. His mouth went dry as he tried not to think of
what he might have encountered, had he prowled the woods an hour ago.
He reached within his cloak to one of the many hidden pockets where he kept things to trade with. One such as himself couldn’t exactly walk into a store and pay for anything by American Express. When he went into the city to get food, clothing, and the odd item that caught his interest, he always took some pretty and probably priceless token with him to leave as payment in lieu of cash. From his pocket he withdrew an antique necklace, laid with a dozen small sapphires in metal so old that it had almost turned black with tarnish.
However, the silver could be cleaned and even as is, it was a breath-taking
piece… one that he had not been able to part with yet.
Without knowing his own mind’s intent, he held it out in her direction,
admiring the way the sunlight shined off of her hair and through the precious
stones. It would look lovely around her neck, shining bright against the soft,
sun-browned skin. His heartbeat doubled.
She was looking at her reflection in a hand mirror, and a sunbeam bounced
from the expensive stones to the mirror and momentarily dazzled her eyes.
She dropped the mirror and spun around to see who was watching her.
He cringed and fled, throwing the necklace without knowing where it landing and tearing off for the mansion like a bat out of hell. She’d seen him! He had to hide, to get away! He must have torn out of there fast enough to elude her… he hadn’t heard her scream. Or maybe she had fainted. Either way, he had to disappear, slink into his lair like the beast he was.