Page 2 of The Shadow Prince's Ruin
He shoots and… misses.
My ears ring from the loud bang, but I grin like a madman and launch myself at Samson, flinging my leg his way. The firearm goes off again, and I feel a rush when gun smoke-scented air swishes all too close to my head, but then my foot collides with the fucker’s head. I slam it against the wall with all the strength I have. The pistol clutters to the floor as Samson attempts to grab my calf, but I flex my entire body and kick his face again and again, seeing red as the side of the truck dips at the impact.
“Don’t even need a shank!” I yell at him, consumed by my fury. The need to end him is so much greater than even finding out if we’re hanging off a cliff.
I know it’s done when he stops moving, his head a stew made of bone, blood, and brains. I’m heaving as I take in the destruction around me. The floor under my feet is uneven, and one of the walls is bent out of shape. I glance through the barsbetween the back and the cab to confirm that the driver isn’t moving either.
Am I like a cat? Was this my sixth life granted?
Shock slowly leaves my body, replaced by a weakness in every limb, and I stare at the carnage around me, exhausted as if I’d been digging graves all day.
What. The. Fuck.
Not that I’m complaining.
A switch flips in my head and prompts me to free myself from the remaining cuffs and chains. For all I know, the cops are already en route, and as lucky a bastard as I am, opportunities like this one don’t just fall into a prisoner’s lap every day.
I’m meant to spend the rest of my life in prison, with the possibility of parole coming only once I’m old and hopeless. I don’t fucking deserve that. So maybe I’ve made mistakes, and disagreed with the law many times, but my intentions have always been good, and I should get a second chance.
Today, this damn sardine is swimming free.
I’m about to climb out through the wrecked back door, but then go back to pick up the guard’s wallet. It’s not like he’s gonna need it. I’m sorry for him, but it’s not my fault fate had this freak accident in store for him.
A quick browse through his pockets leaves me with some cash, mints, and two condoms. I leave the phones, too worried there might be some tracking apps on there that I don’t know how to disable. I’ve been in the can for five years, and technology has never been my strong suit.
I emerge into the setting sun, blinded by the blood-red sky. The first inhale of fresh, wood-scented air makes my head spin, and when I look around, taking in the brilliant green of the leaves, freedom seems within reach.
I thought I would never again smell the earthy, damp aroma of the forest, but trees are everywhere within sight. Figures. This is Maine.
The transportation truck fell off a small cliff, and shouldn’t be visible from the road, so there’s a chance its failure to arrive at its destination might not be discovered for another few hours.
I’m in the north, I know how to stay off-grid. What’s stopping me from crossing into Canada? Worst-case scenario, I get caught. What can they do then? I’ve already got a life sentence wrapped around my neck like a noose. And since I’m not taking the gun with me, nobody can even claim I’m armedanddangerous. I’m so tall every bed I ever owned was too short, and I’m strong enough to knock a man out with a single punch. Don’t need a firearm to make grown men piss their pants.
I climb a cliff covered in enough bushes to give me leverage and then…. I start walking. It’s a marathon, not a sprint, so I keep a steady pace as the sun sets behind me. And when a vehicle approaches? I hide in the bushes. Easy. Simple.
Walking wherever I want and the absence of a schedule I’m obliged to follow are like a rush of the purest cocaine. Elated, I can barely feel any fatigue by the time I encounter a road sign informing me of a town two miles ahead. Problem is, I’m still wearing bloodstained overalls, and unless I come up with a way to make myself look like a regular citizen, my freedom might be very brief.
I must be the luckiest bastard out there, because there’s a clothesline on the property ahead. I snatch some clothes, which all smell fresher than the air after a storm, and they don’t fit half bad, even though their owner must be shorter than me, judging by the length of the sweatpants. The poor bastard’s neighbor even left a pair of muddy work boots outside waiting for me.
I dispose of my bloodied shoes and clothes in a pond and keep walking. Going by the guard’s watch, it’s getting close to ten p.m., but I haven’t gotten far enough to consider rest.
I need energy, I need calories, I need food to fuel me through the night.
And the universe really is on my side tonight because, I spot a green neon sign that makes me salivate.
Best Burgers Bonanza.
“Yesss, baby…” I whisper to myself and walk faster, lowering the stolen baseball cap over my eyes. After years of enduring prison grub, this is my Holy Grail. I’ll be eating two—no,threefucking juicy burgers and more fresh, crispy fries than a high school football team after practice.
And who knows, maybe luck will strike me a third time today, and I’ll even get laid.
I do have two condoms.
Chapter 2
Sylvan
Ihatethe human realm.
