Sylvie

She turned the corner quickly, the cold air whipping past her face as she looked around frantically. Thoughts race through her mind too fast to comprehend and she clasped her bag closer to her body with each voice she heard passing her in the square.

It’s difficult as it is to blend in with her dark hair billowing in the breeze, but even the rush hour crowd doesn’t offer sufficient cover – what with most people being sheltered inside from the bitter winter cold. It’s only a matter of time that they find her. If only she could get to headquarters in time to give the bag to-

“Oh, I’m so sorry Miss. Here, let me help you up.”

She looked up at the man, irritated at the inconvenience. “No-” she waved away his outstretched hand. “I can get up myself.” She gave the bag a once over to make sure nothing fell out and turned to leave, but he held onto her wrist.

“Wait,” she looked down at the black glove covering her hand and then at the man gazing at her with worried expression. “Are you alright? Are you in trouble?” His blue eyes deepened in color against his charcoal grey coat with each concerned syllable.

“Yes, yes. I’m perfectly alright . But I’m in a hurry.” She made another effort to free herself from his grasp, but he was unmoving.

“Let me help you. Really. It’s the least I can do for knocking you clean off your feet. I mean, you really look like you’re in a fix. Is there someone coming after you? Oh! Are you a spy for-“

“Oh for heaven’s sake! Just let go of me already!”

With a surprised silence, he released her and she bolted for the alley, hoping they wouldn’t find her now that she lost her head start. Goodness gracious, that man could not have taken up more time trying to be helpful.

“Wow this alley is dark. Where are we going?”

“What?!” She stopped short. “You?!”

“Yes, me. Where are we going?”

“What are you doing following me?”

“Running, right now, but to where?”

“No. You cannot come with me.”

“Of course I can. Look, I really can help you.”

“Oh, for crying out loud, Mac. Go home! Or anywhere except with me.”

“James.”

“What?”

“My name. James.”

“Great, go home James.”

“There she is!” A group of men rushed into the alley, armed with weapons she couldn’t identify in the darkness.

“Quick, up the fire escape.” James pushed her toward the nearest one and she flew up the stairs, her heart beating out of her chest. They reached the top of the building.

“A dead end. What now?” She looked around frantically for some other way to escape. The voices below grew louder as the men climbed the stairs.

“Over here,” he ushered her to a door on the other side of the building. “The maintenance door.” They had no trouble prying the door open and quickly descended another set of stairs inside the building. She kept running down the stairs, out of the building, into the night.

Nothing can stop her from delivering the bag before it was too late. The wind caressed her face with the familiarity of an old relative; it was always just her and the night air that reminded her she was alive.

She felt something brush against her and saw James running beside her. He looked back at her, feeling her gaze. She smiled at him and saw the watchtower in the distance. “This is where we part, James.”

He smiled at her and they stopped under the cover of some trees. “Thanks for the help.” She shook his hand and turned to leave, this time expecting to be stopped. She took a few steps forward .

“You never told me your name.” He called to her, finally. She looked back over her shoulder one last time before running into the darkness again.

“Sylvie.”

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