42. Adair
42
ADAIR
I walked through the big glass doors of the convention center this morning hoping to come out with one or two special books I could add to my collection. I wasn’t expecting the thing that I cherished most to not be a thing at all, but a conversation that left my mind light and my chest fluttery.
I feel like I’m walking six feet above the sidewalk as I exit the building before I stop with a frown. “Dammit,” I mutter to myself, realizing I forgot to text Jack and let him know when I was going to be out. Hopefully he figured I just flaked out and looked up the hours on his own so he’d know when to come get me. There’s got to be a coffee shop or a diner around here where I can hang out until he shows up.
Even though I know he’s going to bust my balls when I have to admit that he was right, I can’t wait to tell him about the exchange with Olivia and Gina. I seriously owe him a thank-you for making me take my tablet and encouraging me to show people my artwork.
It’s starting to get dark, but I can see that the streetlights on the next block past the skybridge have turned on. The ones above where I’m walking now seem to be broken, though. My phone makes a bluish splash of illumination as I text Jack to tell him about my adventure.
His response is disappointing.
You’re not walking, are you???
What’s his issue? I frown and type back a quick yeah .
Jack’s reply comes seconds later: Fucking hell. It’s not a safe area. I’m on my way. Go back to the center and wait there. Be there in just a few.
I look around. It is pretty dark. But I’m sure that as soon as I get out from underneath the shadow of the skybridge and these busted streetlights, I’ll be fine. I cross the street against the stoplight because the streets are now eerily devoid of traffic.
The instant my foot hits the sidewalk on the opposite side, I start to feel uneasy. It’s nothing I can put my finger on. A quick glance around confirms that this block is basically deserted. Most of the buildings are boarded up, with graffiti splashed across the plywood. There’s barely more than a couple of windows that are lit up. In between the mostly derelict buildings, there are few vacant lots choked with weeds.
My phone buzzes. I hesitate for a moment before pulling it out of my bag. It’s Jack, calling this time. I’m just about to answer when I hear footsteps.
“Hey, pretty boy.” His white baseball hat is pulled down low over his eyes. I take a step back and slide my phone into my jacket pocket.
“Um, hey.” Out of the corner of my eye, a shape emerges from the shadows. Fuck. Now there’s two of them. The second one doesn’t seem to give a fuck about being seen, stepping straight under the flickering streetlight. He’s skinny, with limp, dark hair and a sallow complexion.
“What’s in the bag?”
“Uh, books.”
“Fucking books?” He lets out a snort of derision as he strikes like a snake, reaching into my space and yanking at the canvas handles I’m gripping tightly.
“Let go!” I yank them away from him and start to beat a retreat. The one in the cap intercepts me. He takes a swing at my face and I duck, but his fist still skates along my cheek. My grip on my bag loosens, and he glances into the interior.
I feel arms around me as he yanks out my tablet, which was on top. “Got a phone on ya, too?” the skinny one snickers in my ear. A moment later, the streetlight blinks twice before dying completely. My heart starts to race. If I can’t get out of here, I am fucking toast .
It might not have been enough to dissuade Jack in the woods, but I throw an elbow as hard as I can into the ribs of the skinny guy holding onto me. He exhales a grunt of surprise and his grip loosens. I duck beneath his arms and light out in the direction of the convention center, praying there’s still a door open or a security guard or something .
I can hear footsteps in pursuit. I’m guessing it’s the skinny guy from his pace, but don’t dare turn around. Desperate to put some distance between us, I cut in front of a pair of headlights. Tires screech as I bolt across the street.
The guy trying to rob me is slowed down by that car, but I can still hear his footsteps as I run under the skybridge towards the convention center.
I curse under my breath when a pair of headlights illuminate me. Behind me, I hear an engine rev until it sounds scarily close, followed by a much louder screech of brakes, hard enough to jerk the beams of light at an angle.
I hear more running feet and think for one brief, horrifying moment that somehow the pair of muggers summoned reinforcements. It’s only when I hear the sounds of a scuffle that I slow down enough to turn and look behind me.
I recognize Jack’s truck pulled over and half on the sidewalk, driver’s side door hanging open. In the headlights, I see the two struggling. Even though I’m sure Jack can handle himself in a fight, I run back, my movements shaky with fear and adrenaline.