Originally posted here, in response to the photo prompt
They’d gotten out.
Sylvie turned to look one last time at the city. It looked so peaceful and benign in the setting sun, no sign of the hell it had become visible from this distance, nothing but the fence they’d had to get around, the fence that trapped the denizens of the city in there with each other.
She looked up, up, up at the fence, and then back at Jake, sighing softly. If they had gotten out, others would, too. Someone else would be less discreet, and then their captors would know that there were escapees. “We should get going,” she told him. “Before the hunt comes.” They would have to vanish into the world, before they were missed. It was their only hope of salvation, or survival.
He nodded, the ragged mess a gangster had made of his throat having muted him permanently. He took a long look at her paws, all four of them bloody and cracked with the work of digging them out of there, of filling the hole back in, and scooped her up in his arms.
“Ja-ake,” she complained, but she was grateful, and, when he shook his head at her in a silent scold, she fell silent and relaxed in his hold.
The dark had fallen, and nothing human would be within ten miles of the blockaded city. Jake loped off into the dark, Sylvie drowsing in his arms. By the time the sun rose again, they would look like just another couple, somewhere sixty miles away. By the time the jailors started looking for escapees, they’d have become nothing more than two more people out of billions, just a couple of humans in the crowd.
It was a nice dream, at least, and he let her have it, for now, while he ran.
Drake-athon! – Feb. 19th & 20th 2011
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