Freerunner

Chapter 21

I dropped down from the prison wall. My hands were peeling from the rocky surface but I barely noticed the sting it yielded. I went to run but my legs refused to move, leaving the top half of my body to launch forward. Before I could fall face first onto the ground, I reached out and grabbed the wall again. I sighed and straightened myself. There was a lump in my throat I couldn't swallow. I stood there feeling dazed and as if I were going to pass out at any minute. I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself down.

There was no point freaking out about the bomb. There was nothing left for me here anyway. My parents have never meant anything to me. No one really helped me when I was thrown in a cell except for the Runners. Then there was Alex. He tortured my friends, left me to suffer then expected me to forgive it all just because he asked. Why should I care if he was to die?

My heart sank a little at the thought. I should care. He hadn't always been like that. It was all the madness going on that caused him to change. I stared down at my feet then closed my eyes. No. I could never forget what he'd done. This was no time to be having second thoughts. Now was not the time to be hesitating. I clenched my fist against the wall, feeling the sting of the tiny cuts caused by the rocky surface. Then, I took to my heels and sprinted towards the main buildings.

There were a few soldiers patrolling the area but they were all exhausted as usual. I slipped by them with ease and found my way to the back door of the attic. I turned the handle and pushed but it wouldn't budge. Unfortunately, my body still remembered how I used to just enter here without a second thought and smacked into the door. I stepped back and rubbed my head. Since when did they bother to lock up this place? Looking around for an alternative, I glanced up at the windows of the attic. There was still no way I was going to fit through one of those tiny things. I groaned. I couldn't think of any other way to get to the weapons store other than the vent system. There was always the vents on the roof but even with the comatose state the guards were in, I didn't want to risk it. Suddenly, an idea came into my head. I reached up into my hair to take out one of the pins that I normally wore, only to remember I hadn't needed one since my haircut.

I bit my lip. What was I supposed to do now? I had nothing to work with and time was running out. At the very least I needed a gun but I was no closer to getting my hands on one than I was acquiring a bomb. My head was starting to hurt from stress. Where else could I find weapons? Steal from one of the guards? No chance, they worked in groups. The shelters? No, they returned all firearms to the weapons store at the end of their shifts. I removed my cap and ran a hand through my hair, scrunching the ends in my fist. There was nowhere else. Unless I could get into the offices, there was nowhere else that held any firearms. Unless...

Unless my mother still kept a gun in her desk.

Without a second thought, I took off back to my house. I prayed that my mother hadn't done anything to her office whilst I was in prison. When I got to my window, I climbed through and landed softly on the floor inside. Quietly, I crept up to my door and listened for any footsteps. After a minute of silence, it was safe to assume everyone was still asleep. I took a deep breath and pulled the door. It didn't budge. I pulled a little harder and I felt it give way a little. Frustrated, I stopped and readjusted my grip. Then, with whatever strength I could muster, I pulled the door once more and it flew open. I was only just able to stop it from crashing into the wall and causing a racket. Silently, I rushed towards my mother's office. I swung the door open and entered, closing it softly behind me. Inside, I threw open the curtains then went straight to her desk. I made to open the first drawer but paused. I didn't want to have to see that report again. Besides, from memory she didn't keep anything else in there. I opened the second and moved everything aside. Nothing. I opened the third. Once again, I was left empty handed. I glanced again at the first drawer. It seemed somewhat disrespectful to put a gun with a death note. Still, I didn't have any other options. I closed my eyes and opened the drawer, reaching in blindly for anything that felt like a firearm. My hand came across something hard. I pulled it out and sighed. I checked the chamber was loaded before flicking off the safety and tucking it into my pants. I shut the drawer and went to leave but something caught my eye.