Young Writers Society

Here is a continuation piece I'm working on, hope you find it somewhat exciting and thrilling although it is stilll in development meaning all comments and suggestions are welcome, as always.

-Elitehusky

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People stared at him as he ran along Holzner road in London but he simply didn’t care, time was of the essence.

“Excuse me, oof, pardon me,” he exclaimed as he navigated his way through the busy street of shoppers searching for a good bargain, like vultures, on this Boxing Day.

“Oh,” he said curiously,braking to examine a group of four males across the street. They were all dressed in bright yellow with the Queen’s face on each of their backs.

“That’s odd, I wonder what their up to?”

Glancing by each shoulder he faced the wide-paved road and quickly darted across it just as a limousine turned the corner and accelerated behind him, causing him to lose his right shoe in the process.

“Oy!” he turned to see one of the workers shouting after he regained the displaced shoe, “trying to get yourself killed!”

“Not right now,” he responded, regaining his facial composure after the adrenaline rush had produced a smile.

“What’s your name?” the worker said, jogging towards him as he grabbed a black talkie from his waist-belt and punched in nine digits using his black-gloved hand.

“It’s Steve,” he replied, “just Steve.”

The worker looked at him in confusion, signs of lacking sleep and weariness drenching his face, “last name too please?” he asked

“Oh right, it’s Toskala,” he answered, trying to maintain a straight composure.

“Toskala?” the older worker repeated with a hint of disbelief, "what is that, Jewish…"

“Finnish,” he interrupted, “tai voit vain soittaa minulle Doctor,” he added.

“I’ll just take your word for it, now do you have any I.D.?”

“About what?” he replied.

“No, not idea, I.D. as in identification to verify your statements.”

“With all due respect in asking this, are you arresting me and if so I thought that was under the authority of the Police only?”

“Mr. Toskala, you’re being charged with reckless jaywalking and even though I can’t personally detain you I just called one of my colleagues to do so. She should be here in about five minutes….”

“Okay, okay,” he interrupted, “by why are you here exactly, don’t the Police have bigger projects to be working on?”

“The Police are under strict new orders to follow our directions,” the man replied calmly.

“What do you mean ‘our’ directions, who are you and those men there?” he said, pointing to the other three males behind them uncovering manholes.

“For someone who mistook I.D. for idea you have a lot of questions,” the worker said, grimly admiring the other three behind himself.

“Sorry couldn’t help myself” he replied, “but why…”

Suddenly a police car turned in through the same section the limo had appeared through earlier.

“Gotta run!” he said, before regaining his sprint into one of the giant stores behind the worker.

He ran pass the help desk, turned left, and sprinted to the escalators where, after he ran down to the lower level, he pulled out his sonic screwdriver and reversed their direction of movement while increasing their speed. The air rushing against him quickly cooled his forehead after the encounter which had proved itself to be counter-productive.

Outside the building the female officer exited her car and approached the man with the black walkie-talkie.

“Where is he?’ she asked, observing the crowd around them.

“He ran inside there,” he answered, pointing to the sign which read Peacebridge Centre.

“Why didn’t you follow him?” she asked,as a man brushed against her black state uniform. She turned to look at him but only caught a glimpse of his short brown hair before 'bigbird' continued talking.

“I didn’t follow him because it wasn’t in my jurisdiction to do so,” he said angrily with a heavy stare directed towards her.

“Yet you thought it was in your jurisdiction to arrest him and summon me down here,” she countered as she gently wiped her right shoulder with her ungloved pale hand.

“May I remind you,” she continued, “this alliance is only as good as long as you don’t mess things up Herbert.”

The man rubbed his hand calmly against what used to be his short black hair, of which thanks to time, had become almost completely riddled with grey.

“Just send a plain-clothed team in, we can’t risk casualties right now.” Turning around he signalled for his partners to circle around the shopping mall.