Unwilling

Sup there no one! Nice of you to read this. I guess I’m still clinging to the hope that someone’s coming. The others are right. I’m fooling myself.

My name is Courtney Evans, and, until September, I was leading a perfectly normal; foster-system-till-I-run-away-and-stay-off-the-radar-til-they-catch-me life. Well, halfway normal if you want to count the drug dealers and crackpots and getting mugged four different times. Okay, fine. It’s a rough life. But looking back, I wish I’d stayed away from pizza that day.

11 Months Ago, A.K.A September

Black Oaks, Colorado

I dashed across another street and pounded down the empty sidewalk, the busy streets of downtown left far behind. I heard the thump of feet right behind me and put on a burst of speed to put more distance between me and my pursuer.

Panting, I turned down another old factory street. I glanced over my shoulder to get a better look at who was chasing me and saw the barrel of his gun rise. I yelped as a bullet whistled by my shoulder, and I sped up yet again. Thank goodness he seemed to have terrible aim.

Why was a random guy chasing me through a deserted rundown factory division of Black Oaks, Colorado? I had no idea. I hadn’t done anything this time. I swear. I hadn’t even stolen a taco. That had gotten me chased by an angry man with a gun more than once.

But...not for this long.

I hadn’t even picked his pocket. There I was, minding my own business, standing in line for a slice of Thomas’s famous pepperoni pizza. I had just collected my slice and taken a huge bite of that pepperoni deliciousness, when I got a funny feeling, like a tingling sensation on the back of my neck. I looked up and saw a man in a business suit staring at me intently. I pretended not to notice him and sat on a bench with my pizza, watching him from the corner of my eye.

Suddenly, he raised his wrist to his mouth, like he was talking to his cufflink. He looked directly at me and his eyes narrowed. He straightened his jacket and began striding briskly towards me. He was either a detective that recognized me,(I’ve been down to the station a lot) or a member of the Black Oaks Administration. I wasn’t too keen on either of these options, so I did what any normal school-skipping, sophomore teenage delinquent would do.

I took off down the street.

I had almost managed to shake him on 7th Avenue, but a lady with a shopping cart coming out of Target and talking on her cell phone rammed into me and sent me sprawling onto the asphalt. I winced as I slammed into the ground. She might’ve tried to apologize, but I took off so fast she didn’t have a chance.

The autumn air stung a cut on my cheek as I ran across a set of railroad tracks. I darted down a side road and started running towards the old factories.

Now, I was being chased in an abandoned part of town without anyone around to help. Great idea, me.

My eyes darted around the street, searching for a hiding spot. I spotted an alleyway and seized my chance. Heart pounding, I dodged into the alley and dove behind a dumpster.

I pressed against the filthy side, breathing heavily. I stooped down and grabbed a large jagged rock. I stood perfectly still for a good five minutes, listening for footsteps, and for a moment, I thought I’d lost him.

I was very wrong.

A second later I heard car wheels spin and engines revving. Oh great, I thought, he was calling for backup.

Want some more great news? The alley was a dead end. I was boxed in, and armed only with a rock. I was not liking these odds.

Car doors slammed. I heard the telltale click of guns being loaded and I gripped my rock more tightly.

Rasping whispers were coming from the alley entrance. I held my breath and listened closely.

“Where is....”

“In... Behind the dumpster....”

“Good.”

I gulped. What the heck did these guys want? I heard more guns cocking and I knew I was about to find out.

“Ms.Evans!” one of the men called out. “Your trapped, Ms.Evans. There’s nowhere to go. Come quietly and you won’t be harmed.”

How the heck did they know my name? I was a nobody from nowhere who had done nothing but skip school and run away all her miserable life.

All the same, I peeked out from my hiding spot and saw that the man was right. I had no hope for an escape.

At the alley entrance stood a dozen heavily armed men, and behind, blocking the entrance entirely, were two black fifteen-passenger vans.

I ducked back behind the dumpster, close to hyperventilating. I knew I had no choice. All those guns against a baseball-sized rock? No way.

The man seemed to guess what I was thinking. “Ms.Evans,” He called out in a warning tone. “This is your last chance. Come out now or I’ll send my men to retrieve you, and neither of us wants that.”

I knew the lying bastard didn’t care about me, one way or another. But on the other hand, I didn’t really feel like getting several dozen rounds of bullets to my gut. Bracing myself I slowly stepped out from behind the dumpster, gripping my rock tight. Crud crud crud crud crud...

The man I assumed was the one who had been talking before smiled a cold, menacing smile, that didn’t reach his eyes. “Good choice. Drop the rock please, Ms.Evans.”

I hesitated. The man was tall, with steel-grey hair and a goatee, and his icy eyes held a terrifying, triumphant light.

One of the other men noticed my hesitation. “General Wolfe,” he began to say.

Wolfe held up his hand and the man silenced instantly.

“Ms.Evans,” he barked commandingly.

His tone sent a shiver down my spine. Reluctantly, I dropped the rock.

The scary light in his eyes flared brightly with satisfaction. “Very good, Ms.Evans,” He stepped aside and motioned with his hand. One of the men opened the van door. “Please get in the van.”

Crap. This was really bad. I really didn’t have much choice, not without revealing...not without revealing who I really was. But maybe... Thank goodness. I had a plan. Granted it was a half-baked ludicrous idea, but I really was out of options

I made myself look really nauseous, which wasn't hard given the circumstances. “Oh on. Nuh-uh. No way. I stopped hiding. I dropped the rock. But there is no way I am getting in that van. Don't get me wrong, I surrender, you win, take me to your leader, all that jazz. And I really don't feel like getting peppered with bullets, but I get motion sickness like nobody's business. I can’t get in there, it’ll get really ugly really fast.”

Wolfe looked so aggravated and confused I almost laughed out loud, but I didn't. this guy didn't seem to have much of a sense of humor. “What about the school bus?” he demanded.

“I walk everywhere.” I crossed my arms, feigning defiance when I really just felt like puking.

He sighed in frustration and motioned to his men. “Ms.Evans, I really must insist-”

“I’m not riding in the same van as her!” one of the men interrupted. “I can’t stand the sight of puke.”

“You’ll do as your told Johnson.” snapped Wolfe.

But the other men began to back away too and grumbling how they’d rather walk back.

“I’d take a motion sickness pill,” I said placing one hand on my hip, “but I used my last one on the subway yesterday. I was going to be late for school, so it was an emergency.”

General Wolfe turned back to me, annoyance written all over his face. I was pretty sure he was also pissed off I seemed to not be taking him seriously. “You’re just going to have to live with motion sickness Ms.Evans,” he decided, scowling at me.

“Don’t do that to her boss!” one of the other men protested, “When my sister used to get motion sickness, she was absolutely miserable.”

The other men were nodding in agreement.

“I could walk,” I suggested, “ I’m not gonna try to run when you have all those guns.”

“We can’t just waltz down the street with all these weapons,” the General snapped.

“Well, unless you pretended to be my armored guard, just until I get some motion sickness meds.” General Wolfe considered this and I could tell he was getting desperate.

“The people here would buy that?”

“No one would bother you, they’re incredibly stupid in this town, and those are some pretty nasty guns,” I assured him, “especially if I was wearing nicer clothes. My house is right down the block. I have the perfect outfit for this!” I clapped my hands together like an excited school girl.

Okay, maybe it was a little over the top, but at least I was good at acting.

The General looked exasperated and ticked off, but finally nodded, though the suspicion never left his eyes.

“Alright, but no funny business.”

"All due respect sir, but there is nothing funny about being threatened and kidnapped. And I really don't appreciate the attitude." I tossed my hair and pasted what I hoped was a haughty look on my face, despite my fear. You know what they say, fake it till you make it. And at the moment, I was bluffing like there was no tomorrow because if I got in that van, there was a very good chance I wouldn't have a tomorrow. But they were SO gullible, which was all the better for me, and I allowed myself to be escorted from the ally.

Old Canning Factory, South Factory District

The old factory was huge, with the ceiling at least fifty feet high. I led my ‘bodyguards’ deeper into the factory, weaving in and out of the Cosco style isles.

Finally, we reached a storage crate in the farthest left corner from the entrance.

Nope, I wasn’t lying. I live in a storage crate. It’s not as bad as you might think.

I unlocked the heavy-duty padlock and pulled open the door. It was a cozy little space. I had uh, ‘borrowed’ an old outdoor extension cord, and had plugged in a couple of space heaters to keep out the chill. I had a mattress in one corner, and my soft blue comforter was neatly made, and a few blankets sat in a tattered wicker basket at the base of my bed. I had found some white Christmas lights in a bargain bin at Walmart last January and strung them around the ceiling. I reached down and plugged in the extension cord, and the whole room glowed to life. The lights flicked on and the heaters began to blow warm air. I had a large, multi-head lamp with colored shades sitting between my bed and a slightly worn bean bag chair that sat in the other corner. On the other side of the beanbag was my small square table, that I had found at a thrift store. I had a perfectly good, old chair from the dump sitting at the table, a large bookcase salvaged from one of the abandoned factories against the other door(I only use the one), a long shelf all along the left side of the wall, ending at the head of my mattress, that I had made from an old board, and a mini-fridge and a small chest from Target for my clothes under the table.

I walked into the room and kneeled next to the table. “Uh, if you don’t mind, I’d like some privacy.”

The General scowled. “That wasn’t-”

“Look, I’m not going anywhere! Just padlock the door behind you, here’s the key,” I made my face look as innocent as possible.

General Wolfe still looked suspicious, but he took the key from my outstretched hand. “Fine, you have ten minutes,” He signaled his men and they exited the crate.

As soon as I heard the padlock shut, I sprang into action. I leaped to my feet and dashed around my house, securing everything breakable, or unsteady. I grabbed my hot plate off of the shelf and tossed it on my bed. I snatched bungee cords off of the shelf and stretched them in front of the bookshelves, securing them tightly. I bungee-corded my chest of clothes and mini-fridge to the table legs and folded my dishes into the blankets.

As soon as everything was secured, I looked at my watch. Three minutes. Just enough time.

I thought about where I should go, not out of the country, I’d had enough of Europe. Maybe somewhere secluded, but close enough to a water source. Maybe Florida. No, too many crocodiles. Maybe Montana. Yes, that was it, I’d go to Montana.

One and a half minutes. Hopefully, I could do it. I’d gotten better over the years, but it was still risky. Then again, I didn’t have a choice.

I started concentrating. I closed my eyes and thought of the wild wooded forests of Montana. The freshwater springs, the rolling hills, the peaked mountains.

The ground started to shake.

I heard the General pounding on the door, but it was too late. The air started to shimmer, and I felt myself dissolve. The air rushed in my ears and my stomach dropped. My ears popped and then...

I opened my eyes. There was silence. I crossed my shaken home and pushed open the door. My house was nestled between a crack in a mountain. In front of me was a grassy, sunlit clearing surrounded by forest. A freshwater spring bubbled peacefully from the mountain and created a serene creek, rippling and twisting playfully into the woods.

I knew I had done it. I had reached Montana.

You see, that was the thing I couldn’t reveal, at least, not directly. I’m different than other sixteen-year-old girls. Most girls complain at the thought of putting something away or doing dirty work. Most refuse to lift a finger to help. I’m kinda the same way. I really never lift a finger to do any work. But the thing is, I don’t have to. That’s how I’m different. I still do work, just not with my hands.

I can move things with my mind. And I think someone’s after me for it.