Elias charged down the stairs and burst through the main doors, taking a sharp turn past the laundromat. He did not look back and continued to run. Elias staggered out into the street, blinking hard against the glare. The world tilted and was too bright, too loud, full of people going about their day.
The only thought in his mind was to get somewhere safe and away from the loan sharks. How could his fiction mom set him up for God's sake? He shoved past a man, talking on his phone, yelling a quick apology. The woman shouted something after him, but her voice drowned under the pounding in his head. He could hear the heavy footsteps of the loan sharks behind him, calling for him to stop.
Like hell, he will. But his limbs began to hurt. Sure, he was not the most athletic guy but he could definitely run without feeling this exhausted. Perhaps it was this new body he had?
"Come on, Elias," he muttered to himself, lungs burning. He fought the urge to pause for a breath and bend over. "Keep going. Do not stop."
He darted down the sidewalk, weaving between bodies, bags, umbrellas. The street ahead was a blur of colors and sound horns blaring, buses exhaling clouds of exhaust. He could lose them in the crowd. He had to. As long as he could get to Kenzie or the cops, he should be fine.
"Kid! You can not outrun us!"
"Fuck off!" Elias shouted over his shoulder, and immediately regretted wasting the breath.
His heart was hammering too fast. The world narrowed to a tunnel of noise and motion. Every sound felt too sharp, the slap of his shoes against the pavement, the blood roaring in his ears.
He cut into an alley between two stores, the walls closing in like the world itself was trying to swallow him. His shoulder clipped a wall; pain shot through his arm. He pushed through the pain and continued to jog forward. He could barely hear them now. As he moved, he noticed that there was a low, rusted fence ahead, topped with wire. He didn't think, just climbed. His palms burned as he scrambled over. He landed hard on the other side, his knees screaming. Wind knocked out of him. He leaned back and took a deep gulp of breath.
He heard that Graves man again, "There!"
Tears prickled in his eyes and he limped away. The road blurred. Somewhere along the way, he lost his footing and went down on his hands, skin scraping raw against concrete. He bit back a cry, pushed up, and kept going. He didn't know where he was anymore. Elias kept running.
Okay. Think. What can he do?
Sweat dripped down his back. Before he could think too hard on his next course of action, a hand grabbed him by the neck.
"Found you," One of the thugs said, voice dripping with satisfaction.
Elias's stomach dropped. He struggled against the bigger man's grip, drawing his hand into a fist and slamming it into the man's face. Blood trickled down the man's nose but it barely did anything to him and only made the thug angrier.
The grip on his neck tightened and the thug fisted his palm as well. Pain exploded across Elias's cheek. His head snapped to the side; stars burst behind his eyes. For a heartbeat, everything was soundless except the ringing in his ears.
"You fucking little shit. Try that again, why don't you?"
Then Graves's voice cut through it, calm and cold. "You're a quick one, I'll give you that. But you really shouldn't have run."
Elias spat blood, the metallic taste coating his tongue. "You...should really...get a hobby."
Graves smiled faintly. "Oh, I've got one."
The thug holding him released him. Graves reached over, grabbed Elias by the collar, and yanked him closer to him. Elias's feet barely touched the ground.
"Let me go!"
"After what your mom pulled? Not a chance."
"I don't owe you anything!"
Graves's eyes hardened. "You do now."
The next thing Elias knew, he was being half-dragged, half-carried toward the mouth of the alley. Cars roared past just beyond. They were heading for a black SUV parked at the curb, doors open, engine running.
No. No, no, no—
Elias twisted, kicked, bit. His heel connected with a shin. The man shouted, loosening his grip for a split second. Elias tore free. He ran. Again.
"Oh for fucking sake! Break his legs the next time you catch him." Graves roared.
This time, Elias ran into the road. Horns blared. Someone shouted. He darted between cars, ignoring the curses that followed. Elias ducked under a truck's side mirror, nearly losing his footing on the slick pavement. A car screeched past, missing him by inches. The rush of air nearly spun him off balance. Pedestrians scattered, yelling.
"Help!" Elias cried out to the people. "Help me! They're trying to kidnap me. Call the cops!"
He turned a corner, sprinting down a side street lined with fruit stalls. His lungs felt like they were on fire. His vision blurred, sweat stinging his eyes.He risked a glance behind him—
All three men were still chasing him, gaining ground with their huge size.
"Persistent bastards," Elias wheezed, and shoved over a basket of oranges. The fruits rolled everywhere, tripping one of them up for just a second.
But his body was giving out. His chest ached. His legs felt like lead. He stumbled into the main road again. He hears the long , harsh blare of a car horn. It sounded impossible close.
Time slowed. He couldn't move. Couldn't think. He stopped in place and looked up. A white, sleek car was bearing down on him, moving too fast. He saw the reflection of his own terrified face in the windshield. The driver's face was a blur. The sound of screeching tires tore through the air.
Elias's heart lurched once, violently—
And then everything went white.