Now, We Run

 Now, We Run

They stood next to each other at the edge of the creek. Mickey’s patchwork skirt was only just touching the water. 

“You’re getting wet.” Jack watched the creek trickle past.

Mickey had a couple of fingers pressed to her lips. “You wish.”

“Here.” He handed her his phone.

Mickey didn’t step away from the creek. “Err?”

“Just put in your number.”

“Why?”

“In case I need protection.”

“From who, the Germans?”

Jack couldn’t help his smile. “You stole that from someone.”

“Most certainly.” She started putting in her digits. “We’re going to pay for yesterday.”

He laughed, just once. “Of course, but wasn’t it fun?”

Mickey handed the phone back. “Short lived, I imagine.” She hitched her skirt and skipped over the rippling water.

Jack followed her.

~~~

They were early. The school halls stood quiet; empty.

Jack leaned back on the lockers as Mickey opened her own. “So what’s our plan, what should we do?” he asked.

“We?”

He turned to her. “Yes, what do we do?”

She took out a thick history book and scrubbed her hands through her dark hair. “Well, you could take off your jacket and threaten to infect them.”

Jack blinked and inadvertently scratched his arm. “This comedian over here.”

“Friendly fire.”

“Is that supposed to comfort me?”

Mickey shut her locker and looked down at her shoes, eyes closed. “I feel sick.”

“We’ll be okay.” Jack wanted so badly to put his fingers on her cheek. 

“Famous last words.”

Jack felt a knot in his stomach. “So we shouldn’t have a plan?”

Mickey looked at Jack then. “You think a plan will save us?” She gripped the book to her chest.

Jack scratched at the skin on his forearm again. “Better a plan than to grant them access.”

“To what?”

“Whatever they’re going to take.”

Mickey looked at the ground and shook her head. “We’re fucked.” There might have been tears edging into her eyes.

“Most certainly.”

~~~

Home room was a curse. Monty was elsewhere but a pig was in Jack’s room and he wondered if there were any in Mickey’s room. He discretely took out his phone.

pigs in your vicinity?

It was only a few seconds before she responded.

sty, as it were

Jack tapped his fingers on the desk, thinking.

ok. see you on the roof after third period?

He waited, watching the pig as the pig watched him. Perhaps the pig’s name was Marcus. Perhaps it wasn’t. Finally, Mickey responded.

ok

~~~

The sky was overcast but the air was still. Jack adjusted his beanie and bit his lip. Why was he so nervous?

Mickey didn’t turn from where she sat on the rooftop ledge. “What you got there, friend?” She must have been able to smell it. 

“Lunch.”

“Come on then, don’t leave a girl hanging.”

Jack walked to the ledge and handed her a steaming plastic container. “Lasagne.”

She kicked her legs. “Excellent. Smells good. Your mum must be a good cook.”

“I made it myself.’

Mickey opened the plastic lid and turned to him. “A man of many tricks.”

Jack looked away. He might have been embarrassed.

“Not keen for the caf today?”

“I can’t imagine you would be either. It’s not exactly a DMZ.”

Mickey cocked her head but didn’t say anything.

They ate in silence for a while.

“What now?” she asked, packing up the plastic containers and wiping her hands.

Jack scratched his neck, wishing he had thought things through before the fact. “No idea, if I’m honest.”

Mickey seemed to be thinking for a moment. “So I suppose my statement stands…we’re fucked.”

“They’ll come after us at day’s end. That’s my best guess.”

“Day’s end? What are you, four-hundred years old? Also, your best guess?” Mickey covered her eyes with her hand. “Jesus H.”

Jack bit his lip. “You’re the veteran.”

She met his eyes. “I’m just used to taking it.”

“No time for that anymore.” Jack didn’t smile this time. He ignored the leftover lunch containers and took Mickey’s hand, leading her towards the rooftop exit.

~~~

They hit the stairs faster than Jack had prepared himself for. He almost fell a few times. 

Mickey pulled back on his hand. “Where the hell are we going?” 

As they reached the bottom floor adjacent to the sports field, Jack yanked Mickey through the emergency door, out into the light of day. “Good morning, Starshine.”

Mickey coughed into her free hand. “You’re a fucking menace, you know that?”

“Most certainly.” Jack winked like the fool that he was. “Pick up your skirt, we got business.”

~~~

Jack led her to the sporting shed only to find a bolted lock on the door. “Fuck.”

“Not going as well as you’d hoped, then?” She might have been grinning.

He gave her a side eye. “Not the only menace in the playground, then.”

“You know it.” Mickey opened her backpack and pulled out a set of pliers.

Jack watched as she narrowed her eyes and went to work on the lock. He bit his lip and tried to keep an eye out. “Take too long and you’ll burn up on the way there.”

She coughed through her nose. “Pressure is not exactly helpful.”

At last, the lock clicked and then opened. Mickey turned her head and met his eyes.

Jack felt his ears twitch. “And here I stand.”

She smiled. “It appears so.”

~~~

The shed was hot as the Devil’s asshole. Luckily, time was not to be lost. Jack stepped past her and started rifling through the this and that littering the shed. He eventually found the prize. “Got it.”

“Got what?”

Jack took her hand again and pointed to the door. “Close that?”

Mickey shrugged. “Damage is done.”

“Understood.”

They pelted out onto the field. Jack had the line-marker canister in his other hand. 

Mickey pulled herself free of his grip. “And what now?”

Jack stalled. 

“Well?” she asked.

Jack looked at her dark eyes. “What’s his last name?”

Mickey shook her head, confused.

“Monty? What’s his last name?”

“Crawdad.”

“You jest.”

She let her skirt fall. “I do not.”

Jack knelt down, canister in his hand.

Mickey put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you sure?”

“Sure that he’s a dick?”

She straightened herself and bit her lip. “And so I stand.”

“Most certainly.”

~~~

The words were far from perfect but they spoke. They were loud and clear.

MONTY CRAWDAD IS A HUMAN SKIDMARK

~~~

The pigs poured out onto the field only moments after Jack and Mickey had completed their efforts. They hid under one of the bleachers. 

“I mean…you tried.” Mickey was attempting to hide her smile.

Jack turned. “I’m sorry, what?”

This time she laughed out loud.

He put his head in his hand. “Not my best work, admittedly.”

Mickey huffed. “Don’t sulk, it doesn’t suit you.”

“Mmm.”

They watched as Monty and his boys took stock of the field. The fury might have been tangible. Mickey took Jack’s hand and pulled him close. Before he could say anything she kissed him. Soft lips, pressed against his own. How he didn’t melt was a goddamn miracle.

He pulled away. “Aren’t we friends?”

“Most certainly.” 

~~~

They crawled sideways out of the bleachers. Mickey rested a hand on Jack’s back that he didn’t ignore. He bit his lip and pulled her out onto the field.

“What now?”

“Now? We run.”