The Fugitive

The blood pounded heavily in his ears as D crouched behind the wall. He could hear the Hunter Agents moving through the neighborhood trying to find him. They broke into one apartment after another, each time spending the same amount of effort searching as many common hiding places as they could. After about the second house D knew what to expect.

As they entered the third apartment, D ran from his hiding place to the next building and just as the door opened he pulled out his Walther.

“Don’t move and keep your voices down,” he said in an almost passive tone.

“Alright man, just don’t shoot us.”

“Just keep quiet and no on gets hurt.”

Suddenly, the steps outside informed D of the progress of their hunt. They knew were he was and the agents were going to get him.

“Just keep quiet!”

The door crashed open and D could only imagine the looks on everyone’s face as the two agents came through the door, waving standard issue Glocks. They began yelling as they tore through the house; D just let their own noise cover his escape as he jumped out the second story balcony. The door to the outside looked to small to actually cover an escape, so he knew he had time working for him.

“****! He went out the back door!” the shorter agent yelled in utter rage.

“There’s a back door? That’s just a closet!” the tall one answered as he gaped outside.

D grinned in spite of himself as he ran back in the front door and crouched on the other side of the landing. The two agents came crashing down the stairs in a rush to get out the front door.

“Cool trick!” The hostage on the couch mused as D stood to leave.

“Thanks for your cooperation! And have a nice day.” D politely bowed out the front door.

Without warning, D felt a burning in my shoulder, just above his heart. Then he heard the shot. The short agent somehow managed to stay behind.

D staggered back onto the pavement and fell to the hard ground with a thud…

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