"That's the boy! That's him, over there!" Rickey exclaimed at the towering squad of men as they chased after the boy. Finally, after days of looking, they had finally found him, the boy that has the chip.
"Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!" Malakhi muttered under his breath as he raced down the streets of the city center. His pupils were wild and dilated from the sudden rush of adrenaline. His chest rose up and down furiously from either his pounding heart or his rapid intake of breath. Malakhi knew that this time he had messed up. Bad.
Malakhi was confused, what was Rickey doing with the group of men? He didn't look to be in very good condition though, judging from the purple bruises that bloomed across his piggish face. He looked exhausted as well, sweat was pouring and dripping down his body. Wetting and staining his gritty shirt.
Malakhi whipped his head around and looked at the crew of men that did not show any sign of stopping their pursuit. Their navy blue coats fluttered against the wind as they chased after the swift boy in front of them. A man with blond hair held Rickey by his collar and dragged him along the streets after Malakhi. Held in each of the men's black leather gloves were golden pistols that were loaded and ready to fire at their target at any given moment.
Malakhi pushed through the crowd frantically, not minding about the people he shoved down or the stalls that he knocked over. This was a life and death situation, of course, he couldn't stop running and care about the damage. Curses and complaints from the people filled up the streets and drowned out the footsteps of the crew that chased after him.
But suddenly, a loud bang cut through all the noise. Shortly afterward, all hell broke loose. People screamed and ran around like headless chickens. It took a second for Malakhi to realize what was going on.
Then the pain hit him. The searing hot sensation almost brought Malakhi to his knees. He blinked back his tears and ran even faster, he needed to increase the distance between him and the men. He glanced at the source of the pain and a startling shade of red met his eyes. It spread and dripped on the dusty streets from the frightening hole on his arm. Not even a few seconds after, Malakhi's sleeve was soaked. He bit his tongue to hold back a whimper and pressed his injured arm against his sides.
"Move! Move!" The man with blond hair that led the crew bellowed at the civilians. "Move to the sides before I fucking shoot your brains out!" To back up his statement, the man immediately pointed his pistol up at the sky and fired a shot. Rickey, who was still being held by him, winced and covered his head. The people were terrified, but they had to cast that feeling away in order to follow the command given by the fierce man as they did not feel like dying today. They instantly cleared a wide path on the streets and cowered, watching the chase between the injured boy and the team of men.
Malakhi blinked back his tears and started to run in a zig-zag pattern down the street, miraculously avoiding the other bullets being fired at him. The only choice he had now was to hide. With the gaping hole on his arm that still leaked blood and his exhaustion, he could not keep running for long. With that thought, Malakhi used the last bit of energy that was left inside him and zoomed into the distance. The sound of their footsteps started to become fainter and fainter as he zipped and meandered through twisted streets off of the main road. Pushing past more people in his way.
Malakhi kept on running and running with no destination until he could not anymore. He collapsed beside a pile of garbage and tried to calm his pounding heart. His eyes moved around to analyze his surrounding, the alley that he had settled in was filled with waste. The air was humid and filled with the putrid scent of rotten fish. The brick ground that he laid on was filled with liquid that escaped from the garbage. He scrunched his nose in disgust and sat up. He had to think of a place to go.
Home was not an option at all. He did not want to risk his family's lives at all. Those maniacs could come knocking in the middle of the night and finish them all. Malakhi sighed and shook his head. He then took off his sweater slowly and then threw it to the side, the hole in his arm sent chills down his spine. He tore off a strip of cloth from his t-shirt and wrapped it around his injury. He gritted his teeth and swallowed in a moan of pain as he applied pressure to his wound with his other hand.
Malakhi thought about Rickey and what had just happened. He knew why those men were after him. It was obviously because of that chip and locket as the crest on the men's pockets was the same on the locket he had taken. He thought about the image of the machine from the chip and couldn't help but wonder what it was. There were many questions in his head that he could not find answers to. But one thing that he knew for sure was that the chip and whatever information in it was not meant for him to see.
What really bothered him was the rose and crown crest, it had to be from an organization that valued the chip very much. So much that they would kill to seal the lips of any who peeks into it. After all, secrets were best kept by a dead man.
Malakhi did not know who the chip belonged to, he had also never seen the crest before in his life until now. His head was shrouded with a heavy mist of unknown that made him drowsy. There was so much mystery that revolved around the crest.
As he thought about all that had happened, something became clear in his head. Rickey was the last person to see the locket. The men must have tracked him down and battered him over the missing chip. Malakhi was not sure if Rickey knew about the chip that he secretly took out. But Malakhi did know that it was Rickey who told the men about him, so they must have used Rickey as a dog to find him as they did not know what Malakhi looked like.
Malakhi grunted and blocked out his thoughts, it didn't matter to him anymore. The little that he knew wouldn't do much to save him. Right now, he needed to find out if the men were still following him. He closed his eyes and listened to his surroundings.
"Dammit! Where did that boy go?" The deep and rough voice from the blond man drifted into Malakhi's ears. He took in a sharp breath and hid behind the pile of rubbish that was closest to him, he peeked from behind it and looked at the entrance of the alley. The crew came to sight.
"Sir, I...I saw him run in this direction." Rickey's voice trembled as he glanced up Vikah, the blond man that held him by his collar. He quivered as his eyes met the man's blue ones, Vikah cursed and spat onto Rickey's face then chucked him aside.
"Useless idiot!" Vikah roared and turned to his subordinates, "Don't just stand there like some sort of decoration! Look around this area. The boy couldn't have moved far from here, considering his injury. If we can't find that chip today, the chief will eat us alive!"
The men immediately spread around the area, if Malakhi's counting was correct, there were sixteen men in total. Each carrying a gun and shining metal sword. Malakhi heard footsteps approach his way, he held his breath and realized that this was it. The alley had a dead-end, meaning that the only way out was through the men that blocked the entrance.
The footsteps came closer and closer and echoed through the alley. It was already dark, the moonlight eerily cast the man's shadow against the brick walls. As he approached closer and closer to Malakhi, the boy began to sweat and tense up. He closed his eyes and prayed that they do not find him.
But things don't always turn out the way you want them to. Just before Malakhi was about to say 'Amen', a strong grip clasped around his throat, cutting out his air supply. The man lifted Malakhi off from the ground and looked him up and down. "Tsk, I could shatter and crush your neck in a second. You're just like an ant, so vulnerable."
Malakhi widened his eyes and gasped for air as the man's grip became tighter, he furiously waved and thrashed around. He used his good arm and tried to pry the man's hand off of his throat, but his grip was too strong, his hand didn't even budge. "Hey! I found the boy!"
The other men stopped their search and looked at Malakhi with interest, some laughing at his state. Malakhi's eyes started to fill up with tears, he had to do something fast. Malakhi sunk his teeth into the man's calloused hand until a metallic taste filled his mouth. The man yelled and threw Malakhi onto the floor. He gasped and choked for air like a fish on land.
Malakhi coughed up droplets of blood onto the floor. He looked around at the men that surrounded him like towering buildings. The man was right, Malakhi was just like an ant. He was weak and powerless, his life lay upon the mercy of others.
The man that was bitten by Malakhi was the first to approach him, he slapped Malakhi with so much force and power that he flew back to a wall and landed with a loud thud. Malakhi gasped and gagged, a loud snap that followed from his injured arm sent him to the edge, he screamed and writhed in pain.
Malakhi then proceeded to retch his guts out. The tuna and bread from this morning emptied out onto the ground. Malakhi looked at the faces of disgust from the men and slowly stood up. He was going to make a run for it, the chances of him succeeding were lower than low. But he figured that if he was going to die anyway, why not die trying to escape?
He wiped the mixture of vomit and blood away from the corner of his mouth and staggered forward. With one last burst of energy, he pushed through the barricade of several men in front of him and ran. Just before he thought that he actually made it, loud bangs from the men behind him filled up the air.
He fell and landed face first onto the dirty ground. The excruciating sensation of burning mixed with pain from all of his limbs almost made him pass out. His eyes rolled back as he felt his head become heavier and heavier, he felt the world in front of him twist and turn before his eyes.
Malakhi croaked out a hoarse groan. A kaleidoscope of colors danced around in his head, filling most of his vision with pinks, oranges, and greens. He wanted to vomit again, he gagged but only some yellow and bitter liquid came out.
The world seemed to be fading off into the distance, footsteps and voices dragged and droned behind him, replaced by buzzing and ringing. Everything felt blurry and unreal, it was like he was floating in an abyss. Just before his drift into unconsciousness, he felt his body being lifted up from the ground. 'This is it.' Malakhi thought as everything finally blacked out.
"Damn, didn't I say not to kill him?" Vikah sneered as one of his juniors lifted Malakhi onto their shoulders. "Look at all this blood and mess."
Hernan chuckled as he inspected his bitten hand, "Don't worry, a couple of shots to his arms and legs won't take him to the sky yet."
Vikah grunted and walked away, passing by Rickey who cowered and trembled from the scene he had just witnessed. He was traumatized, he had never seen a person being shot down.
"Sir-sir!" A young lean man yelled as he ran after Vikah, "What do we do with that one?"
Vikah stopped for a second, he spoke in a lazy and nonchalant manner as he looked the fat man up and down. "Kill him, he won't be of much use now as we have everything we need." After his words, he turned back and took out a silk handkerchief and cleaned the dust off of his gloves.
The pleas and cries from Rickey came to an abrupt end as a bullet tore through his forehead. He gasped and fell to the floor. A river of red flowed out of him, snaking down the street.
Vikah shook his head as he chucked the handkerchief onto the ground. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, the smell of the wet air and blood mixed together harmoniously inside his lungs.