Shortly, he must have found the drive gear, because now he was rolling forward and quickly picking up speed, moving opposite me to the far end of the alley. I briefly debated what to do, since he was now heading in the opposite direction of my parked minivan, which was in the bar’s main parking lot a half block away.
I could run to my minivan, but I risked losing him.
Or I could run after him...and risk looking like a freak.
I thought about this, chewing my lower lip, and as he reached the far end of the alley—and actually turned on his blinker—I made a decision.
As he hung a right and headed up Amerige Street, I dashed after him.
Let the freak show begin...
Chapter Six
I quickly covered the space between the alley and the street.
I slowed when I came up to Amerige Street. I rarely spoke of or utilized this particular talent, one that I had discovered years ago: the ability to move fast. I had the ability to cover ground so quickly that at times I thought I was flying.
I mean, how often did one need to dash down a street? I wasn’t a superhero. I wasn’t a cop. I didn’t chase down bad guys. And I wasn’t in an Adam Sandler movie, where I would use my speed to win track races and collect babes. It was just something I could do, something I could tap into when needed.
And tonight, caught between an alley and blocks away from my minivan—and not knowing where CS Adulterer was headed—well, I had little other choice.
I was wearing my Nike running shoes, a cute pair with a yellow swoosh that matched the yellow ribbon in my hair. I doubted the Nike designers ever conducted a field test like this before.
Amerige is a quiet street that runs north and south, paralleling Harbor Boulevard, itself running through the heart of downtown Fullerton.
A car was coming from my left, and there was a couple walking toward me a half block down. I ducked my head and hung a right, spying the van’s taillights in the far distance. CS Asshole was easily three blocks ahead of me, having clearly caught a few green lights.
I jogged at first, my legs feeling strong and mechanical, two pistons attached to a five-foot, three-inch frame. I stepped off the sidewalk and jogged along the street next to a row of parked cars. I picked up speed gradually, keeping the van in sight.
The couple whipped past me, a blur really. I saw the man’s head snap around, following. Or trying to follow me. No doubt his jaw had dropped open, too.
I chuckled and lowered my shoulders, picking up speed. Street signs, small trees, and fire hydrants all whipped past me. A small dog barked at me from an open car window, but its yipping receded behind me almost instantly.
I came to the first intersection, and I was in luck. A green light. I debated slowing. The debate didn’t last long when I spied the van hang a left far ahead.
I hit another gear entirely. A gear I didn’t know I had.
Lights blurred past me so fast that I shouldn’t have been able to control my body. I should have been completely out of control, slamming into whatever crossed paths in front of me. But it was the opposite. I had complete control of my body—and I saw everything with clarity. Perhaps even supernatural clarity, nearly predicting where cars and people would be.
Wind thundered over me, plastering my clothing to my skin, whipping my hair into a crazed frenzy.
My legs felt so damn strong. My energy endless.
I could do this all night. All the way to the rising sun.
I’m not sure what people saw, or what they think they saw, or even if they actually did see me. I was through the intersection so fast that if someone looked down, or looked away, or even blinked, they would have missed me.
I felt movement to my right and veered away just as a car pulled rapidly away from the curb and hung a U-turn. The driver never saw me, I’m sure of it.
The light at the next intersection was red. I slowed down gradually, reluctantly, coming up behind a row of cars. I side-stepped smoothly onto the sidewalk and wove quickly through a group of women who were much too loud and drunk. I suspected I was in the midst of one of those “girls’ nights out” that I’m always hearing about. Does drinking with my sister count?
By the time I reached the sidewalk, the light had turned green. I crossed with the others, except, unlike the others, I was already on the far side of the street before they had taken a few steps. I heard gasps behind me, and saw many heads turn, but they were now so far behind me that I didn’t care and I’m sure they were doubting their own sanity.
And now I was running so fast that I wasn’t entirely certain that my feet were touching the ground. Wind blasted me. Lights streaked. Bugs were obliterated.
The next light was green and I was just a blur. I felt like a blur, too. I felt inhuman. I felt elemental. Like the wind. Something from the sky, the earth.
Cars came and went. People came and went. I swerved, I dodged, I hauled ass, and finally I hung a left and was nearly upon the van, which was just turning into a warehouse.