I sat in a Starbuck’s, trying to decide what to do next. I needed to stay hidden in case Jack was still looking for me, but at the same time, I wanted to look up that name. Gregory Horrison. It seemed so familiar, but I just couldn’t place it. I felt something in my pocket. I slowly pulled out the pamphlet from the orphanage and stared at it, dumbstruck. At the top it said “Gregory Horrison’s Institute for Parentally Challenged Boys”. My mind was reeling, yet blank. How had I forgotten the one place I hated the most in my life? I had no idea where he was, but my father owned the Institute.
I had made up my mind. I found myself travelling the road I had taken so long ago with Jack. I was going back to the place that would have been my last choice to visit again. I didn’t dare take a cab, in fear that Jack would follow me somehow. I was hiking along the woods to the side of the road. Suddenly, I heard many tires rolling on the pavement. I hid and peered out. Enormous trucks bounced up and down on the bumpy surface. As they went past, I could make out the word SWAT on the side. Somehow I got the feeling they were looking for me. There were at least four trucks. After they passed, I waited, then slowly eased myself out of hiding.
I liked the woods; they gave me something I had not felt in the city, a sense of peace. I enjoyed all the beauty around me, the way the sun shone through the branches of the dead trees to cast intricate shadows upon the ground, the scent of the fresh pine crushed beneath my feet. This would not last. Something pierced the branch next to me. I whipped around as another bullet launched itself past me, punching itself in to the tree behind me. I took off. I could hear shouts behind me along with the growling of dogs. They were hunting me! Several more bullets missed me by centimeters. I couldn’t hide, the dogs would find me for sure, the only thing I could do was to just needed to keep running. I should have thanked the bullets that were appearing all around me, they gave me the adrenaline I needed to run faster than I ever had. Soon, I saw a cliff appear in the distance. This was my chance. I launched myself off of it and into the undergrowth.
“Where did he go?” a voice demanded angrily.
“No idea… The dogs aren’t picking up anything. Scan the area, shoot on sight, those were our orders, make sure they get completed.”
“Right.”
Luck had found me. I had landed in a plant that must have masked my scent from the dogs. I didn’t have time to feel glad. I quickly climbed back up, checking if I was alone. The men had gone off farther into the woods. I had to get out. I used the trees for cover and soon made my way back to the road and stopped. The Institute loomed overhead. Just the sight made me remember my all of my childhood in a heartbeat, it was an incredible experience. I had to get inside and find out more about my father. I swore as I noticed they had posted a guard at the front entrance. It was the only entrance I knew of. I had no choice. I edged around the back of the building, looking out and waiting for the guard to turn his back. I picked up a fairly good-sized branch on the ground. The guard was distracted by something on the road and I took my chance, clubbing him as hard as I could on the back of his head. He went down without a sound. I swiftly transferred his gun to my pocket, and with a moment’s hesitation, his grenade on his belt as well. I heard noises on the road. Those trucks were pulling up alongside the road. That was what the man had been distracted by! I had nowhere to run but inside. I rushed through the door and up the stairs like I had countless times before in my past. The Institute was empty. From the looks of it, it had closed down long ago. It didn’t make sense to me. Why had the posted fliers for my return? The place had an eerie feel to it, as though I was being watched. I finally found the door to my room at the top of the tower. I slammed the door once I was inside. What was I going to do? They were going to kill me right away, without even a chance to explain myself. I needed to know why though. Over everything else, I wanted to know why I couldn’t find my parents. Why were they trying to stop me? Suddenly, that question became more important than my life to me. I knew I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t have these answers. And so I waited, not knowing what for.
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1 comment:
I had a feeling that he was going to be the shooter from the beginning; I just wasn't anticipating it to come so soon.
It's a little unrealistic to say that a name that had been part of the narrator's life for so long would be one he would not immediately remember. I, like the narrator, am wondering how he has forgotten it.
Check your writing for run-on sentences; there are a number of them in the last few paragraphs.
The installments/chapters of your story are just long enough to be descriptive but not obnoxiously so.
I like this story!
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