Out of my depth
I stopped to catch my breath and collect my thoughts. They must still have been following me, although the sirens were in the distance now, but maybe they had followed on foot. I took stock of my surroundings. I was standing in the middle of the high street; actually it’s more of a square than a street. It’s probably not the best place to hide but at least I could lose myself easily in the crowd, everyone seemed determined to get somewhere and I seemed to be the only one who didn’t know what to do or where to go.
Well, not the only one. There was a fountain in the middle of the square, just half a dozen metres away, which might have been grand and imposing once but now seemed to represent a public convenience… for pigeons. A family were sitting on one side eating chips and probably discussing which shop to visit next or whether or not to go to the bank. I turned away and remembered what I was doing.
I was being chased.
I spotted my chance in the building next along from the bank; the old library doesn’t seem to fit comfortably in with the rest of the 21st century but I headed straight through the door anyway. One thing I didn’t notice was the scruffy girl placing down her newspaper and disappearing down an alley to the side of the library.
Once in the library I let my eyes adjust to the dark and look around, it was just how I remembered it although I hadn’t been there for years; giant bookcases reaching the rafters and crooked tables strewn haphazardly in the corners. I headed for a small table at the back of the room and grabbed a random book from the nearest shelf before sitting down.
The bookcase creaks and before I register that fact another thing happens. I suddenly feel cold metal being pushed into the back of my neck; the unmistakable feel of the barrel of a gun, even someone who’s never experienced this would still understand the meaning of the metallic touch that sends shivers down the strongest of men’s spines.
The door of the library opens but a bookcase obscures my… our view but I still here a police officer address the librarian.
“Come with me quietly now and I won’t hurt you,” the voice behind me whispers. I don’t answer; it’s like being stuck between a rock and a hard place.
“I won’t hurt you,” my apparent captor repeats, “but they will”. My captor isn’t talking about the police but the police are defiantly not barging into the library for the good of their health, they have higher orders. Higher orders that probably contain the words ‘dead or alive’.
I nod my head slowly and the press of the gun disappears but before I think of making a break for it I hear a click and feel a gust of cold air. Suddenly I am dragged by the scruff of my neck down a passageway, the door swings silently shut behind us and I realise I have been taken into the bookcase that was plain and ordinary only a few minutes before. I realised that now, maybe, I was out of my depth.
Well, not the only one. There was a fountain in the middle of the square, just half a dozen metres away, which might have been grand and imposing once but now seemed to represent a public convenience… for pigeons. A family were sitting on one side eating chips and probably discussing which shop to visit next or whether or not to go to the bank. I turned away and remembered what I was doing.
I was being chased.
I spotted my chance in the building next along from the bank; the old library doesn’t seem to fit comfortably in with the rest of the 21st century but I headed straight through the door anyway. One thing I didn’t notice was the scruffy girl placing down her newspaper and disappearing down an alley to the side of the library.
Once in the library I let my eyes adjust to the dark and look around, it was just how I remembered it although I hadn’t been there for years; giant bookcases reaching the rafters and crooked tables strewn haphazardly in the corners. I headed for a small table at the back of the room and grabbed a random book from the nearest shelf before sitting down.
The bookcase creaks and before I register that fact another thing happens. I suddenly feel cold metal being pushed into the back of my neck; the unmistakable feel of the barrel of a gun, even someone who’s never experienced this would still understand the meaning of the metallic touch that sends shivers down the strongest of men’s spines.
The door of the library opens but a bookcase obscures my… our view but I still here a police officer address the librarian.
“Come with me quietly now and I won’t hurt you,” the voice behind me whispers. I don’t answer; it’s like being stuck between a rock and a hard place.
“I won’t hurt you,” my apparent captor repeats, “but they will”. My captor isn’t talking about the police but the police are defiantly not barging into the library for the good of their health, they have higher orders. Higher orders that probably contain the words ‘dead or alive’.
I nod my head slowly and the press of the gun disappears but before I think of making a break for it I hear a click and feel a gust of cold air. Suddenly I am dragged by the scruff of my neck down a passageway, the door swings silently shut behind us and I realise I have been taken into the bookcase that was plain and ordinary only a few minutes before. I realised that now, maybe, I was out of my depth.