Races

Hullo, everyone! I hope you’ve had a great week and a nice Good Friday so far. I completely forgot to play up that cliffhanger last week, didn’t I? I’m sorry. Sort of. 😉 If you’re new, check out the first part.

Blaze sees the man holding Ezra’s limp form at the same second that the people around her notice. Most of them back away from him and some of the women squeak or scream and run away. Several people pull out their cell phones and tap the screens frantically, probably trying to call 911, or whatever it is in England. But apparently they don’t get any response, because they all drop their phones and flee. If their phones aren’t working, something must be really, really wrong. Ezra controls electricity, so does it have something to do with that? Or does this guy have something to do with it?

I reach out frantically, and relief washes over me as I feel Brooklyn’s mind. Need help, tell Data we’re in trouble. Brooklyn immediately begins asking questions, and I consider shutting her out, but instead I just tell her, Stop distracting me and get help. Her questions stop, thankfully, and I turn to see the man taking Ezra into the alley. I hurry to the edge of the building we’re on.

“Albany, wait,” Blaze hisses, grabbing for my arm and missing. “We need to get Data and get out of the way. This is something for—”

“We can’t let them out of our sight!” I exclaim. “We’ve got to help! And I’ve already told Brooklyn to get Jen.” I watch as the man pulls Ezra toward the back of the alley.

“No,” Blaze insists. “We have to follow protocol.”

“I’d guess we’re already not following protocol, just by being here,” I point out. I spot a drainage pipe on the edge of the building and rush over to it.

“Albany, please!” Blaze begs, hurrying after me. “Don’t be an idiot!”

He’s one to insult my actions. Bringing me here was idiotic, so I might as well continue that course of action. I choose to ignore Blaze and swing over the edge, clinging to the drainpipe and sliding down to the ground.

Sliding down drainpipe things is absolutely stupid. Don’t do it. If the drainage pipe is covered in oil and you have protection on your hands, go ahead. But otherwise, no.

When I hit the ground, my hands are raw and bloody. Blaze appears next to me, taking the cheater’s way out by teleporting, and I send him a glare before taking off in the direction the jerk took Ezra. Blaze yells something at me, but I ignore him and keep running.

I’m not a runner, and I’m certainly not fast, but the guy is moving pretty slow, probably because he’s overconfident – and he’s carrying Ezra. I catch up to him quickly. He glances behind him, probably hearing my footsteps, but his eyes pass over me. I’m surprised he doesn’t see me, but I don’t have time to stop and think about it. I lunge forward and swing my fist at his shadowy face.

Denver’s taught me some martial arts stuff, basics he’s learned while taking a class for some kind of college credit, but I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve never hit a real person before. And I never expected it to hurt so much.

I yelp and stumble back, cradling my definitely bruised, maybe broken fist. Sure, it makes the man stumble a little bit, but I think it hurts me more than it hurts him. He looks around wildly in confusion, acting like he doesn’t even see me.

Blaze appears next to me, but even though the guy is looking right at him, he doesn’t react at all. Is he blind? Blaze shoves the man hard and pulls Ezra away from him. He grips my arm firmly, and the next second, we’re gone.