New from Carlo’s story – Perch

Here is a new segment in Carlo’s story. I drew inspiration for this installment from Terri G Long’s BlogFlashDaily prompts. I hope you enjoy!


My first instinct was isolation. After a hit as big as this one, anonymity was essential to survival. I found a perch, as I always do, and continuously scanned the blacktop below for any sign of pursuit. My lookout was an abandoned terminal, the vast windows of its bridge overlooked the runways and airplanes waiting for takeoff. The terminal was dark and blocked off by security, which wasn’t a problem for me, obviously, but would prove inconvenient for any pursuers. I could also see the travelers crossing the fully-functioning bridge in the terminal across from mine. Though without knowing what to look for, they would never spot me. The perfect perch.

My hands twitched in their barrenness. They were incomplete without my rifle. I felt vulnerable without it and the comfort the scope brought to my ever scanning eyes. I would have make do watching the old-fashioned way.

My plane from DC to New York was already boarding. The last thing I needed while being hunted by Detective Foster was to be confined to a cramped plane with no easy exit while people were pouring in.  No, I would stay hidden and board at the last possible moment.

Movement on the bridge parallel to mine caught my eye. Foster. He was here quicker than anticipated. Frantic, he zig-zagged in and out of passengers.

I stood stone still. Waiting. Barely breathing.

Foster stopped mid-stride.

“What are you doing, Foster?” I said in a whisper.

He turned toward the window with his hands cupping his eyes to better his vision and stared across the way, directly at where I was perched. We each held our gazes for a second, like counterparts on opposing fence-lines. Even from this distance, I could register the realization on his face.

My feet took off before my conscious mind decided to run, and out of the corner of my eye I saw him do the same, direct mirrors of each other.

I was out the door in five strides and was deposited into a stream of passengers. Security was alarmed at the sudden outburst, but I was lost in the crowd before they could pursue. I dodged businessmen on cellphones, families on vacation, suitcases, children, and the little motorized carts. People jumped out of the way as I passed, some yelled profanities, while others just stood gawking. This game of dodge-the-crowd was taking much longer than I could afford.

“Carlo!” Foster shouted from behind. He was gaining on me, but my gate was just ahead. They were already starting to close the ramp. I fished my boarding pass from my pocket while I ran.

“Hold the door!” I yelled as I neared the gate.

The attendant scanned my pass and I slipped through, sneaking a glance behind me as it closed. Detective Foster’s face filled my view before the doors sealed me inside.

I could hear his muffled voice on the other side of the closed door.“I’m a detective and that’s my suspect. Let me pass.”

No doubt he flashed them his shiny badge.

“I’m sorry sir…” was all I needed to hear of the attendant’s response. Foster was a little too late, once again.

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