Chapter 3 - The Alleyway Escape
I hit the floor running.
Before Daniel could turn around, I scrambled past the edge of the counter, shoved the heavy glass door open, and bolted out into the freezing Portland rain.
“Emma!” Daniel’s voice boomed over the hiss of the storm.
I didn't look back.
The rain hit my face like a shower of needles, instantly soaking my thin jacket and turning my hair into heavy, wet ropes. My sneakers splashed through puddles of oily water on the sidewalk as I veered sharply away from the main avenue and dove headfirst into the dark, narrow brick alleyway beside the café.
The alley was a maze of overflowing commercial dumpsters, tangled iron fire escapes, and deep shadows. It smelled of rotting produce and wet concrete.
Footsteps echoed heavily behind me on the pavement.
“Emma! Stop! You’re going to freeze out here!”
It was Daniel. He was fast—much faster than a normal man in a tailored suit should have been. The beam of a powerful tactical flashlight cut through the falling rain, sweeping across the brick walls and bouncing off the metal dumpsters, searching for me.
I squeezed myself into the tiny, pitch-black gap between two brick walls behind a rusted ventilation unit, pulling my knees up tight to my chest and burying my face in my wet sleeves.
Stay small. Stay quiet. Stay unseen.
The flashlight beam swept across the mouth of my hiding spot, illuminating the wet ground just inches from my sneakers. I held my breath, squeezing my eyes shut so hard golden spots danced against my eyelids. I imagined turning into smoke, into a shadow, into nothing at all.
“Emma, I know you’re in here,” Daniel’s voice echoed off the damp bricks, much closer now. He wasn't yelling with anger; he sounded worried, desperate, and terrifyingly determined. “I’m not the police. I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to help.”
That’s what Greg said, a dark, bitter voice whispered inside my head. Wait right here. I'll be right back.
Adults always lied when they said they were coming back.
The footsteps stopped right beside the ventilation unit. A large, expensive leather shoe stepped into my field of vision, followed by the heavy hem of a dark coat.
“I have a son who was terrified tonight,” Daniel murmured softly to the empty alley, his voice shaking just a fraction. “And I have a home with a warm bed, a hot shower, and a kitchen where you can eat as many cookies as you want. Please... don't make me chase you into the dark.”
My lower lip trembled. The cold had clawed its way past my skin, freezing the marrow in my bones. Every muscle in my body ached with a hollow, crushing fatigue.
Then, I heard something else over the sound of the rain.
A low, mechanical purr of an idling engine rolled into the mouth of the alley. A second set of footsteps crunched on the gravel.
“Mr. Anderson,” a second, gruff voice called out. “We checked the perimeter toward the square. No sign of her yet. Should we expand the sweep to the transit station?”
Daniel stood frozen beside my hiding spot for three agonizing seconds. Then, slowly, he turned around.
“No,” Daniel said, his voice hard as iron. “Bring the car around to the rear service exit. She’s smarter than we gave her credit for, and she’s terrified of institutions. We need to handle this differently.”
The footsteps retreated back toward the street.
I waited. One minute. Five minutes. Ten minutes. The rain continued to pour, soaking through my clothes until my teeth were chattering uncontrollably.
Finally, I slowly unfolded my cramped legs, peeking out from behind the ventilation unit.
May you like
The alley was empty. The black luxury sedan was idling fifty yards away near the back exit, its doors closed, its driver sitting silently behind the wheel.
I stood up on shaking legs, took two unsteady steps toward the open street—and my vision suddenly tilted sideways.
