Last Week’s Memoir #15
Art by Paul Rios
Editor’s Note: The Last Week’s Memoir series is a collaborative story written by Jake Corbin, Bryce McEfee and Paul Rios. View previous LWM Serial No.1 entries to read the story from the beginning.
The swift stinging breeze of bullets cutting through the air uncomfortably escorted Andy as he ran. His only advantage being he reacted so fast at the sight of the gun that he didn’t even see Larry’s body hit the ground, giving him a good enough head start down the road. Being in the forgotten sector, Andy knew he had to get toward civilization and he had to get there fast.
The last experience Andy had with running was high school gym and he failed that. Today was a crash course in the art of speed and stamina. His feet carried him carried him faster than he’s ever had to run. Through the streets he dodged back and forth, knowing somewhere he had seen or heard that he should never run in a straight line when someone’s firing at you. The buildings and allies blurred as they passed his peripheral vision. Eyes straight-ahead, not daring to turn back, Andy dare not lose any ground he had on his pursuers.
By the sound of his heavy breathing and the footfall behind him, Andy could tell the men trying to kill him were closing in. His body and lungs were starting to fail him. Andy started to think he never should had cancelled his gym membership, right about now it would have been extremely helpful to have been in shape. Who would have guessed that a daily stroll on a treadmill could possibly mean the difference between life and death.
Just as Andy’s body really started to feel the pain, he took an abrupt right around the next street corner. A volley of bullets splintered the brick next to his head. Caught by the concussion of exploding brick, Andy stumbled and hit the ground hard, skinning his hands and knees. Blood started to flow from his scraps, but Andy could not stop. He staggered to get up, his equilibrium thrown off a bit, his muscles burning, but not enough to keep him grounded. Andy lifted his head and not fifty yards in front he saw the bright lit up sign of the Sector 7 Police Office. He made it to civilization. Just a little ways to go and he would be safe.
Andy dug his feet into the ground and pushed himself forward as hard as he could. Andy reached the door in no time and finally turned toward the direction of his pursuers. They were just rounding the corner when they stopped from a full out sprint and just stood there.
“They must have seen the signs,” Andy thought to himself with a smile cracking on his lips.
Andy flung the doors open with a bang, walked into the police station, and quickly headed to the front desk. People turned in his direction to see what the commotion was. Eyes followed him to the front desk.
“I need to talk to someone right away, there are men trying to kill me! They are right outside, please someone help me!”
“Please calm down sir,” said the officer at the front desk. “Let me get someone over here to talk with you.”
Andy must have looked like a wreck with his bloody palms and knees, not to mention he was yelling like an idiot. All eyes seemed to be on Andy, but Andy didn’t really pay much attention to them. He was being escorted to an office where he was to tell his story to the captain. He was safe.
Andy sat down in a cold hard wooden chair facing the captain’s desk. Andy’s heart was still racing while he waited for the captain. He did not fully realize how tired he was until he sat down. Andy’s mind was just as tired, but functioning better than his body. He unconsciously looked around the captain’s office, not really taking anything in, not until his eyes reached the window of the captain’s office that looked out toward the rest of the police station lobby. Andy hadn’t noticed it before, but there wasn’t a single noise except for the sound of his fast beating heart. Nobody in the station was doing anything, all eyes were starting directly at Andy. All eyes except for the captain’s, who at that very moment walked in and closed the blinds.