Comic 25 - Chapter 4 - 5

28th Jan 2021, 7:51 AM in Chapter 4: Trapped

Anne rubbed her arms. "How are we going to get past them?"

They were gathered under an awning, looking across an open plaza to the guards patrolling the train station. The pavement had been dug up, and rain had turned the entire area into a swamp, making traffic all but impossible.

"Why don't we simply walk out of town?" asked Y.

"We tried, remember?" pointed out the Caretaker. "The roads curve back on themselves."

"So, let's just fly past the blockade." suggested Anton.

"Anne can't. Besides, you wouldn't get far."

"Then we're trapped?"

"Not necessarily," grinned his mentor, "night is coming. Watch!"

Off to the side, past a decorative fence, an alley bordered by lamp posts led up to a little palace, now mostly dark. As daylight dwindled, the shape of the building faded against the sky until it was no longer visible. The twin rows of lamps seemed to just go on and on.

"Impressive," stated Y.

They hurried around one corner of the plaza, while the rain subsided, then stopped entirely. Suddenly, the only noise on the empty streets was that of their steps, and the train station guards started shouting. Several ventured out to catch up with them, braving the ankle-deep mud. W.'s eyes went wide. He was huffing and puffing, his cane slipping on the wet cobblestones. Anton ached to just lift into the air, but stayed back to help; it occurred to him that he had never seen the old man use any powers.

The gate in the fence was in sight now, and they crossed it while their pursuers were still stumbling through puddles of water. Then two more guards emerged from the darkness in front of them. Anne tripped and nearly fell into their arms.

Then she grabbed one of them and threw him over her shoulder. The man hit the pavement with a big wet thud. Somehow, his truncheon ended up in Anne's hand. She promptly smashed it in the other thug's face, and he lost footing as well.

Their comrades were already outside the gate.

"Run," said Y. She turned and lifted her purse, not ten meters along the escape route. But when cold mist started rolling in, the distance appeared to grow. Soon, the uniformed men were little more than shadow puppets on a moving screen. As the fugitives ran and the streetlamps on either side grew further apart, the scene faded into the night. They were alone on a road that meandered endlessly in either direction.

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