Escape

Escape

I was fairly late getting out of the office that evening and the traffic had mostly disappeared from the streets. The short walk to the parking garage met only lightly populated sidewalks and the building itself seemed deserted as I took the stairs to the relevant level. It was only as I was unlocking the front door of the car that I felt a light touch on my arm from behind.

I turned to behold a young woman, blonde, statuesque and wearing a tight, form-fitting suit that seemed out of place in those bare, concrete surroundings. Her eyes flickered left and right as she spoke, as though she expected to be attacked at any moment.

“Please,” she said in a whisper, “can you help me?”

“In what way?” I asked.

“I need to get away from here. There are people chasing me.”

Normally I would have suspected that she was paranoid and imagining things, but her demeanour was so clearly desperate and frightened that it didn’t matter at the time. The important thing was to allow her some space in which to calm down. Everything else could be sorted out later.

“Hop in the other door,” I told her as I began to enter the car. Once inside, we belted up and I reversed out of the place. With squealing tyres, the car then shot forward and we began the run down to ground level. As we descended the first ramp, a man dressed in a mask and black superhero suit leaned over a parapet and pointed a finger at us. A bolt of lightning shot from the accusing finger and we ducked involuntarily as it passed within inches of the roof of the car. I hit the gas and started to throw the car through the turns, two other black-cloaked figures leaping out of the way as I charged at them.

I thought about crashing through the gate, but stopped and dealt quickly with credit card and slot to leave legitimately. We were far enough ahead of them, I reckoned. And then we had joined the few cars leaving town and could relax a little.

“Who were those guys?” I asked.

“The ones trying to catch me,” she answered. “I have something they want.”

“And what would that be?”

“This,” she said, as she reached into her suit and extracted a large stone. She held it out for inspection, letting the street lights shine through it to display its full fascination. It was black but transparent, with facets that both reflected light and allowed it to pass through so that its interior glowed with fire.

“What the hell is it?” I asked.

“Moonstone.”

“What’s it for?”

“Powerful things,” she replied. “In the wrong hands, it can end the world or own it.”

“You mean it’s sorta like magic?” After the black-costumed guys, I was prepared to believe anything.

“No, not magic. I’m not a witch, if that’s what you mean. I am…” She hesitated, then continued, “You won’t believe me but I’m Celesta from the video game, Vortex.”

“You’re right, I don’t believe you. But what are you doing in the real world anyway?”

“I told you. Escaping. They were getting too close and my world depends on me now.”

“So you just climbed out of a computer somewhere and started running?”

“I know it sounds silly but it’s the truth.”

We arrived at my house and I pulled into the driveway. Once inside, we carried on talking while I fixed something for us to eat.

“So what do we do now?” I asked.

“I was hoping you’d find me a place to hide.”

“Well, I suppose you could stay here for a while. I don’t mind sleeping on the couch and you could have the bedroom.”

She shook her head. “No, they will find me. There are machines that can do that. They’ll be looking right now. I need somewhere they wouldn’t think of where the machines don’t work.”

“Bit of a tall order,” I said.

She shrugged. “It’s what I need. We must think.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean it can’t be done,” I responded. “In fact, I think I already have the answer.”

“And what is that?”

“I’m going to send you to my friend, Giles.” I smiled at the very thought. “Come, I’ll show you.”

I showed her into the computer room, darkened except for the light that poured from the screensaver on my monitors. She stood behind me as I sat down and kicked the machine into life. Then I navigated to the entrance and invited her to sit down and have a look.

Once behind the keyboard, her fingers flew over the keys and mouse as she inspected her proposed quarters. Her smile broadened as she went further in. “Oh yes, this will definitely do.”

I was going to give her some last minute instructions but she didn’t need them. She entered a program with lightning speed, fingers a blur and without a single error. As I watched, she faded gradually and then, incredibly, she was gone.

On the screen, I could see a female figure approaching my friend and waving. And I knew she was going to enjoy a quiet, unexciting life as a farmgirl. Living on the farm. With my friend, Farmer Giles. In FarmVille.


House Martell

Word count: 883
For "Game of Thrones"  The North Remembers, New Orleans Prompt 37
Prompt: Your character's not a witch, not a vampire, not a demon, but something completely new.