On Happy (2)

If she'd been any slower she'd be dead.

At least, that is what she told herself in order to savor the sparse amount of bravery that still remained coursing through her veins. The possibly of death, for some reason, fueled her adrenaline and kept her heart racing from something that wasn't fear. In truth, Robert's men were more likely to maim than murder. If she was any slower, she'd be crippled. Murder was a matter that always ended up attended to by the police, but two busted ankles were sure to stay in the privacy of the gutters. Her kind avoided authority whenever possible. But, still, she was rather fond of the way her feet allowed her to stand upright and steady. She was not in any rush to lose that privilege.

The crevice she ducked into was cramped and damp on all sides with something she wasn't too keen on exploring. The smell had her gagging on every intake of breath, but she swallowed down the bile that rose in her throat and focused on hearing. She'd been trailing the two for at least twenty minutes, sticking to the walls, hiding in the shadows, trying to remain inconspicuous. One slip of the foot and her cover was nearly blown. She'd slipped on a chip bag and fell to the ground, landing on her ankle with a definite snap, but thankfully she was able to scurry into a small crevice before the two could see her. All her hard work, erased away by litter.

'Thank God for nightfall,' she thought as she heard footsteps pass by.

“You heard that?”

The voices were right above Karen's head. She shifted her weight just slightly, trying to blend further into the shadows, searching for a wall to press her back against but remembered the strange goo clinging to the brick and stopped. A sharp, acute pain shot up her leg and she gritted her teeth to keep herself from crying out.

“You're losing your mind, Ray,” another voice called out, deeper than the first.

“Nah, man, I know what I hear.”

Karen heard someone crouch down next to where she was hiding. Angrily, she eyed the stars, as if the cosmos would give her away. Under her breath she cursed the full moon and the constellations for making the night brighter than it needed to be. Her hand crept slowly to the dagger strapped to her thigh. The feeling of the hilt grasped firmly in her fist gave her strength. When she heard the shuffling move closer, she slipped the weapon from its sheath and readied herself to lunge. This wouldn't be the first time.

“Whatever, man, you keep lookin' for ghosts and I'm gonna go do the job Rob gave us. You forget we on a time limit or somethin'?”

“Shut up, I didn't forget!”

“Then get the fuck up and let's go.”

Karen waited until she could only hear the echos of their footsteps fading away before crawling out of her hiding space. She tried to stand but ended up falling to her knees. A bitter smile crept onto her face and she let out a small laugh at her luck. She'd managed to get herself crippled anyway, no help needed from Robert or his goons. Cursing under her breath, she retrieved her phone from her pocket and dialed Parish. He picked up on the first ring.

“Karen, how did it go? Did you find the supplier?”

“No, actually, there's been some unexpected delays.”

“What are you talking about? Are you hurt?”

“I think I've sprained my ankle. Or broken it, or something, I don't know... Parry, I'm scared.”

The tears came then, everything she'd been holding back since she'd begun her pursuit. All the adrenaline was gone, no more spite or anger, all that remained was the fear that bubbled in her core since the very start of the whole plan. Whenever Parish sent her on missions, she felt herself older than she was. Every time he put a dagger in her hand and gave her an objective she felt she could have been years older, a professional, strong and fearless, but in truth she was only a child, and no matter how much she tried to deny it, the truth always came back to her.

“What if they come back and find me here,” she sobbed. “I can't move, Parry, my ankle hurts. I think I fell on it when I slipped. I'm scared. Please come and get me. I don't want them to find me. I'm sorry I couldn't do it, I tried! I'm sorry please come get me.”

The sound of Parish's sigh only made her cry more. She hated failing him.

“It's okay. Calm down, sweetheart. I'll tell Wes-”

“I don't want Wesley, I want you!”

Parish shushed her frantically from over the receiver. He took a look at all the papers strewn across his desk and pushed his fingers into his temples, trying to ward away a headache. She was so close to figuring out who was handing out the Endo, one step closer to pinning the supplier. It was hard not to be disappointed in her. Weeks of planning only to be set back because she slipped and fell. He flipped his phone shut and threw it across the room. It crashed into the wall in a flurry of plaster and paint before landing on Wesley where he lay resting on the sofa. The boy only stirred briefly before falling back to sleep. Parish picked up a book from the shelf behind him and tossed it at his brother, a sudden hate rising. Wesley woke up just in time to deflect a paper weight that was headed his way.

"Christ, man, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

He rose from the sofa and danced out of the way of yet another projectile. Parish got up from his chair too and started towards Wesley, but the boy knew better than to let him get too close and bolted out of the door.

"Go do something productive, you lazy bum!"

His anger only fell on Wes' retreating back. After reining in his rage, he grabbed his jacket and went on a search for his little sister. She'd have to worry about more than her ankle when he got to her.

--

A/N: 1055 words! I'm worried mostly about the ending.