Just Keep Driving, Don't Look Back

E

EquinoxSol

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Original poster

Viktor ran through the woods, his breath ragged. He couldn't tell how many were behind him. Ten? Twenty? Their footsteps thundered behind him, making him push his legs faster. Eventually, he came upon a road. There were no cars on it, just black asphalt and a devastating emptiness.

Without pause, he began running down the road, hoping that eventually he would come upon a town, or better yet, a city. He might be able to disappear into a city and all this would be behind him.

His dark hair trailed behind him, whipping about in the biting winter wind. Glancing over his shoulder, he could see them. They had guns, a few of them, but none were shooting. Probably something about 'destroying the property'. Just as it feels like his legs were going to give out beneath him, they stopped in their tracks.

Warily, Viktor slowed, looking back towards them. They were talking amongst themselves before disappearing into the forest. Allowing himself to stop in his mad dash, he bent over, bracing himself by placing his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. After several minutes of resting, he straightened, and began walking, hoping for a car to pass by so he could hopefully ask for a ride.
 
Finch sighed as he exited the small building and entered the parking-lot. He wrapped a warm scarf around his mouth and nose, to make sure that the bitter cold wouldn't enter a single nook or cranny when he looked for his car. "Another day, another dollar." He reminded himself, but the days grew longer and it seemed that he would never be able to convince himself that this job was worth it. Driving mile after mile to a job that he hated, day in and day out? It hardly seemed worth it now. He might as well turn in his two bedroom apartment for a one bedroom as soon as his landlord said it was okay. The apartment Finch lived in was overcrowded with quiet college-goers and loud graduates. But, he convinced himself that he wouldn't have it any other way.

Once he found his car, he unlocked it and was soon on the road again. It wasn't long till he was a good half way there, and the weather seemed to be worsening. He turned on his brights, and windshield wipers. The weather was ungodly, and the blazing cold was half of it. Finch was sure that there might be a blizzard tonight. He sighed, and played some music. Maybe that might brighten some things up? Well, one thing he was looking forward to was the fact that he didn't have work for the rest of the week. Finch took a turn, and noticed something- or someone, on the side of the road. The man- or what he thought was a man- seemed to be walking. In this cold? Oh no, that was terrible.

Maybe it was the fact that he was just too nice, or that he lacked some common sense. But regardless, he pulled over, and rolled down his window. Finch also turned down the music he was softly blasting, and asked the stranger in a foreign accent, " You need a lift, pal? " His bright blue eyes seemed to almost glisten in the snow.
 
Viktor had seen the light from the headlights behind him, and was about to stick out his thumb, when the car pulled over. His eyebrows rising in surprise, he was silent for a moment while the man in the vehicle was speaking to him. "P-please..." he said, bowing his head slightly. Shivering, he glanced behind him, as if afraid they would suddenly appear.

In the cold, he was suddenly thankful that he had been given long-sleeved clothes to wear during the winter, but not only because of that. It would also cover up the fresh cuts and bruises on his arms. However, he still had the simple white shoes they had given him, both of which were now soaked through with the snow. Earlier, when he had been running, he had been kept warmer by the adrenaline rushing through his veins and the exercise, but now that he had calmed down some, he was freezing.

Sniffling his nose, he waited to be invited into the car, if he would be. He certainly hoped so. I just gotta get to the city, get a car, get somewhere safe, he thought to himself, shivering in the biting cold of the environment.
 
Finch nodded, and turned the head onto full blast. " Don't take me off as rude, but, " The man in the car opened the door for the other. Once the man was inside the vehicle and buckled up, he was sure to drive off. " you really do look terrible. What happened to you? " Finch asked, as he turned off the radio completely. But really, who in their right mind would ever be out in this dead of night? And on the freeway? In the middle of winter?! It all seemed odd to him.

Finch turned his eyes away from the road for a moment, only to see what time it was. The male worked the usual five-to-nine, and he could guess it was sometime around 9:20 PM, which it was. He shifted his eyes back to the road, and took a turn. His eyes shifted once more, and he noticed how incredibly nervous the other seemed to be. " You look like you've just seen your doom, bud. Something the matter? " He asked, with a hint of an Italian accent.
 
Viktor was thankful to be inside the car now. It was warm, the heat was on, and he could feel a bit of the snow that clung to his hair and clothes melting. Jumping every time the other man spoke, Viktor eventually answered him with, "I...I'm fine." Still, he instinctively looked out the side mirror, trying to determine if that medium-sized shadow was a person or not, or if those were lights from a car behind them.

"Ju-just keep driving, don't look back," he added. He had no idea what would happen to this kind soul who was giving him a ride into the city in the middle of this weather. Normally, a person would think them to be a serial killer, or insane, or worse. Technically speaking, though, Viktor was definitely that last one. But no one needed to know about that now, did they? It was rare to find someone so trusting. Looking down at his hands in his lap, Viktor forced himself to calm down, knowing that to start acting weird now could possibly send him back out into the cold. Just keep acting normal, Vik. Bringing up an elbow so he could sneeze into the crook of his arm, he looked out the window again, shivering but not from the cold.
 
Finch shifted his eyes towards the other, and gave him a quizzical look. He seemed so demanded, it was almost scary. He was beginning to wonder if picking this stranger up was the best thing he should have done. Keep your guard up. They might mug you, Finch. Don't let your guard down for anything. The male took one hand away from the steering wheel and shoved it into his pocket, only to make sure that he had everything with him. It was a good thing he kept a pocket-knife with him at all times, he couldn't count how many times it has saved him.

" So, " He began, as he took his hand out of his pocket. He left the knife back in his pocket, not wanting to scare the other so quickly. " what's your name? I'm Finch Halston. It's nice to meet you stranger. " He said, as he took another turn. They both entered a bright city with lights that where plentiful and bright. The entire thing seemed to have a glow to it, and that was one of the things that drew Finch into the new place. He loved cities more than anything in the world, and this one was his favorite.
 
Viktor stiffened slightly as he saw the other man's hand go into his pocket. However, he was able to relax slightly when he could see it again. Answering with a small, "Viktor," he tried to remember his last name, but was pulling up a blank. In an effort to keep from looking strange, he added, "Jones." As soon as the word was out of his mouth, he was berating himself for his negligence. A Russian first name with an American last name? What are you, daft? Christ on a bike, Vik. You, sir, are an idiot! he shouted in his mind, frowning at his reflection in the window. Still, he forced himself to mumble a, "Nice to meet you, too," to Finch.

As soon as they entered the city, Viktor was tempted to tell the man to let him out of the car. He knew that they probably wouldn't approach him in the middle of a city, but in truth he had no idea. For now, he decided, he would use this man as a shield, as long as he could or until he found a better way to go about this, whichever came first.

It truly was a beautiful city. There weren't too many people living there, and it was full of mostly nice neighborhoods. If he could, he would have lived there. Letting the barest graces of a smile affect his lips, he glanced behind him one last time, checking for any signs of pursuit.
 
Finch looked to the man, and noticed how shifty he was acting. What was he, anyway? A foreigner? A druggy? A murderer? He hoped it was anything but the last one. " So, Viktor, was it? What brings you here? " He wanted to add more. Something along the lines of, " More importantly, in the middle of the wilderness. " But he figured that what he had already said was good enough.

" Well, anyway, where should I drop you off at? " Finch bit his lip, and mentally kicked himself in the ass for what he was going to do next. " Well, do you have any place to say if I can't drop you off? I'm sure you can make due where I live. I don't take in strangers, mind you. But I don't abandon people out in the cold. I was born with a heart, unlike some. " He finished, as he turned the corner. They where closing in on his apartment building. It was in sight.
 
"You can drop me off anywhere," Viktor said. "But I don't have anywhere to go, and to have a roof over my head, even if it is only for a night..." He looked to Finch, forcing a smile. "...it would be a good thing." He was glad that he had been able to dodge his initial question, for now, but knew that it would probably come up again.

Still, he was taken aback by the man's offer. Most people would never even think of picking up a hitchhiker, even in this weather, and even fewer would offer to let that hitchhiker stay in their house. He had to ask, "Why are you offering to let me stay in your house? Most people would have driven by me without a thought..."
 
Finch was slightly disappointed that the man took up the offer. Only because he had absolutely no clue as to who the fuck he was. Was he a Harvard graduate? Was he a crazed murderer? Was he the author of his favorite book, who was willing to put him inside it as a side character? He had no clue, but he wasn't willing to risk anything. Because the city was a dangerous place, he had weapons littered all over the car. Well, out of sight, of course. They where all small, so that they could fit.

They ranged from knives, and small hand-held guns. He even had an axe in the truck he kept, just incase he could ever use it. It was mostly for bragging rights, if anything. But nothing he kept for protection was illegal, and everything was in his name. " I guess I'm a nice person. And I've been through some hard times, and if I was in your shoes, I would want someone to show some kindness. " Finch said, as he pulled into the driveway of the apartment complex.
 
"Yes..." Viktor answered, a genuine, light smile appearing on his face. "As you can imagine, I haven't been treated with the kindness you have shown me lately. For that, I must thank you." He tilted his head gratefully in the man's direction, before glancing all around again. As they pulled into the driveway of an apartment complex, Viktor looked around, making sure of exits, entrances, and places people could hide.

"This is where you live?" he asked, gesturing towards the complex's buildings. As he did his customary sweep of the area, he saw something across the street that chilled him to the bone, and it wasn't from the cold. He thought he saw a figure standing on the sidewalk across the street. It was unmistakeable who it was, but as Viktor took a second look, the figure was gone. Turning back to Finch, he smiled weakly, wanting to seem as normal as possible.
 
" I can't stand this place..." He muttered to himself. Finch turned to the other, and answered his question. " Yes, I live here. I know it isn't much, but it's all I can afford. " He said, as he turned off the car completely and stepped outside. Once they where both out of the car, the other man stuck his hand back into his pocket and pulled out his keys. He fumbled with them for a moment, before he locked the doors of the car and hooked the alarm on. He turned to Viktor, and noticed how shifty he seemed to act. Finch had a plan.

" You don't mind if I stay out here for a smoke, do you? " He asked, as he pulled a box of cigarettes out of his coat pocket. Was the other waiting for someone? He seemed eager to get out of that place, that's for sure. He didn't usually smoke in the cold, but he knew that the shifty-acting man would never go into his apartment unannounced. He didn't even now the room he was in, or what keys would fit! Finch just needed to know more about him, that's it.
 
"Go ahead," Viktor answered, albeit a little more shakily. Not wanting to put Finch on the alert, he leaned against the wall, shivering. Folding his arms over his chest, he tried to ignore the uneasy feeling generated from the figure he had seen across the street. If they had really followed him into the city, and were willing to do anything to get him back, Finch was in danger. Their trump card was here, too, if Viktor wasn't seeing things. Just the thought of him being nearby gave him chills.

As soon as morning came, if Finch would let him stay that long, Viktor would be gone, he decided. He might have to leave earlier than then, if he saw anything suspicious, but he hoped he might get a night of good rest before he was on the run again. Stifling back a yawn, he patiently waited for Finch, deciding that he would answer the questions he had, if he could.
 
Finch took a huff of his cigarette, and then exhaled. He noticed that the other might be quite chilly, after entering and exiting the warm air like that. The male sighed, and took another huff. A smaller one this time, and then he put out the small glow. Finch put the cancer-stick back into the box, and entered the apartment.

" Here, I live on the forth floor. " He said, as he waved over at the front desk. They both headed up the stairs, and then Finch spoke up. " You never did answer one of my questions. Well, why where you on the road in the dead of winter like that? " He asked. They where already in the hallway of the forth floor. The man with the key opened the door to a small apartment complex, and entered. " Take off your shoes, please. The rug is new. "
 
Suddenly, Viktor took a great interest in his fingernails, the cuticles of which were bloody and cracked. Deliberating over what he should tell the man, he absentmindedly began taking off his shoes, slipping the things off easily before he stepped inside. "Um," he muttered, trying to think about what Finch would believe.

"I got...um, mugged. They took everything I had with me, even my car and phone, so I have no way of getting back home...I was traveling here on work." Praying that his clothes wouldn't look too out of place for one who would travel for work, he fidgited slightly, suddenly uncomfortable. He had lied his whole life, but it had always been the same one. Now, he was having to create a complete history for himself that wasn't even true, in order to prevent himself from being thrown out to the cold once more.
 
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