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His breaths come out in fast pants as he tosses a duffle bag on the bed. Throwing open the closet doors and yanking the drawers out of his dresser, he fills the duffle in record time. He doesn’t stop in the bathroom for the rest of his stuff, knowing he can buy what he needs when he gets where he’s going.
Panic tries to flood his veins but he tamps it down. This isn’t the time for hysteria.
Slamming his apartment door behind him, he rushes down the stairwell, car keys in hand. Before long, he’s situated behind the steering wheel, ready to disappear into the night.
Hopefully, without a trace.
He’s counting on no one noticing he’s gone, but deep down he knows his prayers will go unanswered.
His God, if he even exists, doesn’t answer the prayers of si
And a si
Driving through the silence of the night, he heads to the airport. His foot presses onto the gas with more force than it should, the car accelerating to dangerous speeds.
But he doesn’t care.
Time is of the essence, and if he doesn’t leave now, it might be too late.
The world as he knows it is on the line.
He has to leave.
In less time than should be possible, he throws his car into park on the tarmac. It’s the only way anyone will be able to track him, but at this point, he doesn’t have any other options.
His pilot, one he keeps on standby, is already in the cockpit when he comes rushing up the stairs.
“Are we ready to take off?”
“Yes, sir. Just waiting for the okay from air traffic controls. Please take a seat. If luck is on our side, we’ll be in the air in less than five minutes.”
Luck.
Sending up a silent plea, he begs for luck to be on his side tonight.
For tomorrow, or however long he needs it.
Because he knows the harsh reality of this situation—and it’s life or death.