Drip. Drip. Drip.
The deafening noise of monsoon thunder echoed in his ears and jaunted down his bones, as he waded through an unending crowd of raindrops. His clothes felt weighed down by the rash of rainwater they had been soaking in for the past hour. His shoes screeched with every step. He felt disgusted by the moisture in his socks. His glasses were covered in mist and he could barely see a few feet ahead. But he had to keep going. Waiting, resting, stopping was not an option.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The sheer volume of water being thrown down wasn’t helping. Bad visibility and paranoia are a dangerous combination. Everything was stirring and everything looked like deliberate movement from an unfriendly other. Flashes of lightning reflected in every direction, inducing an instant adrenaline rush in anticipation of the frigid touch of a steel blade.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Ducking into dark corridors and hiding around stone staircases, the journey was slow-going. But he had to be careful. The complex he found himself navigating through was expansive. An abandoned apartment project, it was nearly complete when the housing bubble burst. The construction company went bankrupt soon after, falling prey to the domino effect. Now, these unfinished dream homes were shielding him. He found it ironic that the shattered lives of others were today allowing him to keep his together. Wide open spaces interspersed the varied buildings of this misshapen community. He was sure there was no deeper, mysterious plan behind the chaos he found himself surrounded by. But if he hoped to end this day with a beating heart, he had to hide. He had to remain out of sight.
Drip. Drip.
Staying close to the contours of a gray, three-storied, popcorn textured building, he scanned continuously a temporary hideout. He slid swiftly into the nearest unlit staircase, straight into an unlocked ground floor apartment. He almost slammed the door closed behind him, before catching it in time to prevent a loud clang. It probably didn’t matter; the sound of droplet meeting solid earth would have drowned out almost anything at this point. For a moment, he stood with his back to the door, trying to keep a handle on the rising tide of panic. He concentrated on the floor in the hallway. Beautiful lime-green marble led to a narrow doorway into the living area. His shoes squeaked sharply when he took a step. He removed them for the rest of the walk, and immediately regretted the cold touch of the floor.
Drip. Drip.
He made his way into the living room, an empty area with white walls, a high ceiling and a crystal chandelier that hung tilted towards one side. There was a lone plastic beach chair next to a modern, brick fireplace. Nothing useful. The sight of the fireplace did, however, make him realize he was freezing in spite of his racing pulse. He headed into the bathroom, hoping someone might have been careless enough to leave some paper towels around. Aside from brand new bath fixtures and a leaky roof, there was nothing within visual range. He rummaged through the many cupboards and stumbled into some hammers, nails and a half-used roll of toilet paper. That would have to do. He removed his drenched shoes and quickly wiped himself down. One by one, he squeezed his t-shirt, trousers and socks dry, and then proceeded to wipe off as much water as he could from his shoes. He was almost done putting them back on when he heard the click of a door opening.
He felt a sharp sting of terror rip through his spine. His pulse was racing again and he could feel his heart pumping so hard that his head was nearly exploding. His limbs recharged in anticipation of a fight or a need for flight. He heard the squeak of footwear rubbing against the lime-green marble floor. Someone was definitely here. Someone who was pursuing him relentlessly. Someone he’d desperately been trying to evade.
He had been found.
Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.
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Minor updates performed on 03/18/2012.
mayankgureja 