Fiction: The Alley

Turning right down the alley, I jogged toward Hickory Street, trying to keep as quiet as I could.

"Hey! Guero! Going somewhere?" said a voice behind me to my right

"Yeah," I replied, not turning my head to look at the source of the voice, "Some guy is following me. Jump him instead."

"You think you're funny, Homes?" the voice replied, somewhat irritated. "Micky, stop this punk!"

A hulk of a man stepped into my path at the end of the alley--Miguel McDonnell.

I picked up my pace, figuring I could fake to one side and get past him on the other. Remembering I had watched this guy play a few years of high school football, I wasn't very sure of my plan.

Miguel's face was coming into focus, a fleshy moon pocked by acne scars and freckles. He puckered his face in anger, puffy wrinkles enveloping his eyes.

I started sprinting right at Miguel, edging slightly to the left. He lifted his arms, sighed heavily, and dropped into a slight crouch, matching my leftward drift and getting ready to absorb my impact.

Just before colliding, I swerved to the right. He had anticipated my feint, and grunted loudly as he lunged at me, his arms reaching for my torso. Still running as fast as I could, I whipped my hiking staff in a downward arc at his head. He must not have seen the staff as a threat because the impact hit solidly, nearly knocking me over. I stumbled sideways, and saw him slumping over backwards out of the corner of my eye.

The lack of a noise from Miguel told me he would not be chasing me. I might be in the clear if I could keep away from his friends. I did, however, hear his friend start talking in unintelligible quick phrases, so my luck was starting to turn.

Rather than running out onto my street and drawing more attention to myself, I crossed Hickory and continued parallel to it down the alley toward Grape Street. My new route would take me an extra block out of my way, but the alley was dark and their car was facing the wrong way on a narrow street; they would have to circle around the block to cut me off. I also figured I could cut through Old Lady White's yard if things got more complicated.