Born Mad

Chapter Two: On the Run from the Sane

Why did I think this was going to be easy?

I mentally cursed myself as I ran through the docks, a good fifty men chasing after me. I had lost quite a few of them already, but there was still about ten guards that wanted my head on a silver platter.

I let my instincts take over, and before long, I was running along the boardwalks, leaping onto a fishing boat and continuing to jump from vessel to vessel as I made my escape.

Well, at least I got a good night's sleep.

"Get the bloody heck out of my way!" I shouted, pushing through the sailors before leaping off the last boat in the line and silently thanking The Lord as I landed on dry ground and kept running with no real destination in mind.

I let out a groan of annoyance as bullets whizzed by me, barely missing me. I darted behind a few shipping crates and pulled out the revolver I had taken from the asylum. Of course Parkhurst's men would start shooting. That's why they had guns, right?

Well, I had one too.

"Okay, I've got six rounds. Ten guards," I muttered to myself, reloading the revolver and sparing a look to see how close the men were to apprehending me. "Two shots have to be able to take out three men each. The rest one each."

I sighed, pulling back the hammer. "Make 'em count, Aurora."

One shot. One down.
Two shots. Two down.
Three shots. Five down.
Four shots. Eight down.
Five shots. Nine down
Six shots. Ten down.

I whistled fondly, peeking my head out from cover to find each man with a large whole in his chest and toppling like dominoes. "Man, I'm good."

"Not good enough."

Aw schist.

I ducked my head to avoid the meaty fist aiming straight for me, but I wasn't fast enough, the force of the blow sending me crashing into a crate of cantaloupes. (Cantaloupes of all things? Gosh those hurt. Why couldn't I have fallen into a crate of pillows?)

"Aw, did the big brute hurt his hand?" I gave a mock sympathetic pout as I got to my feet and saw the attacker rubbing his knuckles. "My, you're an ugly fellow. Dark beady eyes, crooked teeth, a frame the size of a truck... I'll admit you're strong, but have you ever heard of dental floss?

"Don't talk so fast girl."

I gave a sigh as I was raised off the ground by a hand around my throat, my toes barely touching the ground. I grinned at him despite the fact I was being slowly suffocated. "Did you really think that I left Parkhurst with only a pistol for protection?"

His eyes widened in shock, quite literally, as I whipped out the taser and rammed it into his neck. I was dropped immediately, his falling unconscious within seconds.

"Let's see that was how many men? Forty? Fifty? And all against little ol' me." I laughed, reaching into the brute's holster and taking out his revolver to inspect it. "Hmm... Another .38 caliber. Don't mind if I do."

I emptied that pistol, reloading my revolver with the bullets I had just acquired. It would have been easier just to take the new revolver, but I really preferred the one I was already in possession of. It was smaller and more lightweight, but it could get the job done, and that's all I needed.

"Let's see," I whistled, climbing up a stack of shipping crates as to get a better idea on where I should go. "I want to avoid Scotland Yard; they're probably already looking for me. I need somewhere with little crowds that I could get recognized in."

I grinned, hopping off the crates and heading off in the direction of the one place they wouldn't expect me to be.

221B Baker Street, here I come.