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Sam sat there in a half daze, occasionally dozing off and waking up with a start. Once he even thought he heard footsteps.
He looked around frantically, wishing James was back. If a soldier came now he would be helpless, he didn't think he could do anything to protect himself. But just to be on the safe side he pulled his shirt and jacket back on. He thought he might be able to run....but he doubted it.
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Laura was not suited for life on the run. She did not like to be disheveled, or dirty. Even now, she gave the impression of a fastidiously neat person, despite the fact that her jeans were faded and the black cardigan she wore over a blue camisole was dirty. Her hair was a dark, chestnut brown, and in a careful bun, though she had stuck a pen and a pencil through it. Her black framed glasses were polished, though scratched. She also carried a tan messenger bag, stuffed to the brim with books, papers, and scrolls written in everything from Egyptian hieroglyphics to Braille.
The fact was she resembled a librarian on Survivor. Her face was pale, with sharp angles, as if she often became so engrossed in a book she forgot meals, much less going outside. Her hands had long fingers, like a pianist, or simply someone who spent a good deal of time turning pages. She had deep brown eyes, with a gleam that spoke of deep-rooted intelligence and a sharp wit. At the moment, however, she was more concerned with survival than with attaining knowledge.
As she walked through the woods, attempting to maintain a swift and silent pace, her foot hit a loose rock. She stumbled a few steps, wincing at the noise and regained her balance just in time to enter a clearing in the trees. Ordinarily, this would have been a good thing. She could have made camp for the night, or would have once nighttime rolled around. However, this particular clearing was occupied.
Sam looked up, startled. He saw a pretty but worn looking girl stumble from the trees. He struggled to his feet, not knowing whether she was friend or foe. He didn't stand much of a chance if she was a foe. But maybe, just maybe, he could lure her away from here so she wouldn't find James.
"Who're you? What do you want?" He said in his most forceful voice, which in the condition he was in sounded a bit whinier than he would have liked.
Laura held herself rigid, ready to bolt. Though, this boy didn't look too dangerous.
Probably a gifted, she thought. He's thin, but not thin enough to be starving. Based on his exhaustion, she judged that he had overexerted himself.
As her mind was making these deductions, she spoke. "My name's Laura. I'm just passing through."
Sam nodded and said, "I'm Sam. Go ahead and go on through. Not that I'm blocking the way or anything." He slowly slid back down the ground, hoping she would just leave and that she wasn't an undercover government agent. He'd heard rumors about those but he couldn't be sure if they were true or not.
Laura ought to leave. She knew that. But, if he was gifted, and she was pretty sure he was, he was in trouble.
She approached cautiously, ready to run if needed. "Are... Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. Just tired." Sam replied softly, though his words were beginning to slur again. He felt so tired but it wasn't even noon yet. He looked toward the city, wishing for James to come back.
Laura examined him for a moment more and then turned away. As she did so, however, the strap of her bag caught on a branch. The bag fell open, dumping out a good portion of its contents.
Sam looked on hopefully, thinking she might have food. He thought he might be able to beg some off of her. But he realized in just moment that it was books. Books and scrolls, literature of all kinds.
‘What kind of person takes books with them on the run?’ Because it was obvious that she was on the run as well.
He made his way over warily and began picking up her books. He noticed that the majority of them weren't even in English. This girl was definitely strange.
"Great," she muttered, carefully replacing the books. She glanced over at Sam, seeing he held a scroll.
"Careful with that," she said, taking it from him and putting it away. "That's Egyptian."
"Egyptian? What are you anyway? This doesn't really seem like the best gear for running away from people." Sam commented as he handed her a couple more books. He really couldn't understand why anyone would take a bunch of books with them on the run. Food and water would be more prudent. If you were going to be weighed down by something why not something you could use?
"Research," mumbled Laura, not looking at Sam. She made sure she had all her books and closed her bag.
"Research....I see." Sam nodded slowly. He didn't think that would make sense even if his brain wasn't muddled.
He kept looking over his shoulder, looking for James. He'd been gone for a half hour already. What was taking him so long?
"Come on James....." Sam said under his breath. He knew he never should have let him go alone. There were probably guards in the city that had recognized him.
Laura didn't look up from her bag. She had a knife she could get to, if she needed. "You're gifted, aren't you." It was phrased as a question, but said as a statement.
********************
James was fairly near the camp, with rations that Sam was going to eat, when he heard voices. He knew he shouldn’t have left Sam alone, not in his defenseless state. He broke into a run.
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"Aren't you? Why else would you be out here?" Sam retorted to Laura’s question, best not to answer directly. He couldn't be sure she wasn't bugged and just waiting to turn him in.
He heard running footsteps and his stomach dropped. Soldiers! She was a spy! He turned to the sound, ready to send them flying.
If he had the strength.
Laura opened her mouth to answer, when a boy burst into the clearing.
James froze, looking back and forth between Sam and this stranger. He slipped the fingers of one hand into the glove of the other hand, ready to whip it off. Sam didn’t look hurt but that didn’t mean something wasn’t going on.
"James! Thank goodness, I thought it was soldiers." Sam sighed in relief and turned so he was facing both his brother and Laura. Sam was so glad he didn't have to use his power. He didn't think he could've managed it.
James looked at the girl suspiciously. "Who're you?"
Laura held her bag close to her side. "Laura," she answered tensely.
"I think she's like us. On the run..." Sam trailed off; he could see the food James had brought back with him. It was in a bag over James’ shoulder. Without warning Sam’s stomach growled loudly.
The unexpected noise eased the tension and both Laura and James relaxed some. Laura leaned against a tree, her bag slung in front of her.
"Yeah... I am. Gifted I mean and running." She had left her house- she refused to think of it as her home anymore- almost a month ago. Getting food wasn't too difficult for her. She didn't really stand out, other than the look of having been roughing it.
James nodded and looked over at his brother and tossed him a loaf of bread and some beef jerky out of the bag he shoved the empty bag into his hoodie pocket as he said. "Eat. I'm not taking any of it, so don't you dare tell me you've had enough."
Sam caught the food James tossed to him and had force himself not to just rip into the fresh bread.
He sat down against a tree and looked up at James, "Thanks bro. But aren't you hungry? You need to eat too."
James shot his brother a look of death. "Forget that, Sam. I'm fine. Actually fine, not just lying about it so you'll be comfortable," he muttered. Sam looked down a little but didn’t really regret giving James more food than they had agreed on.
If he wasn’t going to look after James then who was?
After a moment Sam looked over to Laura and motioned for her to sit.
"You might as well sit down. Where are you from?" As he asked that he began tearing the still warm bread into pieces and began eating a bit of the jerky.
Laura slid down the tree, her knees bent. "I'm from... Well, it's not too far away." She didn't plan on revealing much. She didn't even know these people
.
"Tell me- what is it that you do? I would say that you-" she nodded at Sam, "do something violent. Not in the fighting sense, in the sense that it causes chaos." Sometimes she really hated only being able to talk to people in one language. There was a Slavic word that said exactly what she meant. Somehow, however, she doubted they spoke many Eastern European languages. No accent whatsoever. Laura, of course, spoke with a perfect accent of whatever language she happened to be speaking. At the moment, that was American English.
"You," she said, turning to James, "do something touch oriented. Probably powerful, too."
- by Jimmy the Great Saint |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 05/27/2010 |
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- Title: Journey pt 3
- Artist: Jimmy the Great Saint
- Description: Another installment of my gifted brothers tale. Hope you like it! :)
- Date: 05/27/2010
- Tags: journey fugtive gifted brothers
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Comments (1 Comments)
- danni507 - 05/27/2010
- it's really good.....why not come and read mine! THREE QUEENS (parts 1,2,&3)
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