Chapter 3

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How many seconds had it been? Two? Five? I dove sideways behind the largest potted plant, intending to hide myself behind its thick trunk. My footing slipped on the polished floor and I slid into shelves of seedlings a few feet away. I wonder where they put all of those plants. It wasn't like there was any more space in this room. I bet they had a garden outside. These tender leafy greens must have be the culprits for the rose thorns in my palms. They deserved to be smashed if that was the case. Karma never fails to hit you in the face. Karma is my trusty boomerang.

The room was silent as I held my breath. Had a minute already passed by? Maybe it was a toy from Pakanga's kids? I poked my head out to peek at the grenade. Sighing I whispered "oh good, it is definitely a dud. I thought I was a gon-"

I was wrong. The force of the explosion rocked me backwards. The poor little plants were sent flying into the glass window, shattering it instantly. The design on the floor was split in several places. It was as if someone had taken an ax to the room. That same figurative ax had literally toppled my potted tree; onto the patch I had aimed for and missed. Beneath crushing branches were two gaping gashes. People don't joke around when they say X marks the spot. I did not want be beneath that X.

The two annoying inconveniences that came from that grenade was the disappearance of the Pakanga's package and the incessant ringing in my ears. My whole life I had wondered if the movies really showed reality. I can see it now: a hero being chased through an alleyway only to drive over a bomb. His car flips end over end, coming to a halt twenty feet from the villain - his thumb still on a red trigger. The villain, slicked back hair, sleek black suit, and a devious grin brushes off dirt from one shoulder. Meanwhile our hero is strapped upside down by his seatbelt. Smoke is slowly creeping out of the engine. A smirk momentarily flashes across his face. By fate's design he is out of his car and sprinting headlong into the fight. He wins. In every movie the hero wins. All of this while the high pitched annoyance drowns out the possibility of failure.

I was definitely loosing my hearing at this point. It felt like my ears were bleeding, maybe they were. I didn't have time to check. I could see shadows moving in as slowly as the settling dust. I was not alone. Well, clearly I was not alone. I wasn't the one to throw a grenade at my feet. Someone did not want me here. Knocking on the front door three times would have been the smarter move. What can I say? I tried twice didn't I? Now all of that was in the past and I needed to get out of here. I picked myself up off of the floor and reasoned with myself. I had delivered the package to the residency of Pakanga. Granted I didn't get a signed delivery but no one looks at those anyways. The package was in his house and I was going to leave it there before I could be left in the destruction. He would find it, I was sure of that. Reasoning and balance gathered together, I counted the solidifying shadows. One, two, five, eleven, twenty three. Making my decision I bolted away from the fight. I'm no hero. Only heroes run towards danger - I was getting as far away as possible.

Blocky figures snapped their attention towards me as I realized they probably had night vision goggles on. That was bad news for me. I would rely on my inhuman speed if I couldn't slink away. A few rough voices hollered at me to stop. Did they really think I would stay for tea? The torn up floor gave me plenty of foot holds to launch myself closer to the open door. Once they realized I wasn't sticking around I could see little red lasers bouncing around me.

"Are you really trying to shoot me??" I shouted as I got closer to freedom. My question was met with a clatter of bullets hitting everything but me. Man, these dorks were almost as good as storm troopers. At least their grenade had made an impact.

I clipped my shoe on something hard. Losing my balance I threw myself into a rolling dive. Had I ever done that before? No, never. Do I know how I did that? Definitely not but seeing as a stray bullet grazed my ear I was okay with it. It would have hit my stomach if I had stayed standing. Popping back onto my feet I continued my race towards freedom. I should have looked before running through a door because I ended up inside instead of outside. Door after door after door and I couldn't find an exit. As a last ditch effort I opened a set of walnut doors and barreled myself headlong into a high backed, leather chair. My momentum combined with the well oiled metal threw us into a perfect trajectory that even a comet would be jealous of. The chair and I rolled into position as the carved doors flew open.

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