Chapter 4: 4. Run

Uneven bricks line the sidewalk, hinting at where the roots of evenly-spaced mature silver maple trees wander. Cracks between the bricks are filled with fallen yellow leaves and an inordinate amount of cigarette butts. A frown tugs at the corners of Avery's lips and she slows her jog to a walk, each step more calculated.

A grey haired cat appears directly where one of Avery's feet are about to land.

Avery becomes a wobbling top desperate to stay upright. She searches for purchase with her raised leg and lands in an odd standing splits. "Eugh!" -- Where did that cat come from?

A German Shepherd blasts through the arc of her legs in a full sprint, head held low and even. A leash flapping in the furry bullet's wake snags bricks and launches them into the air. Careful regard for sound footing gets cast to the wind and Avery bounds forward, shifting her awkward stance into a practiced run.

The dog careens around a corner and disappears from sight. Avery pumps her arms willing herself to go faster. A boutique's door opens into the sidewalk, filled with calligraphy hard to make out while sprinting. The face of a man freezes with a wide-eyed expression on the other side of the glass.

Avery darts around. "Sorry!"

The man waves his open hand in the direction of the corner. "Control your dog!"

Her face twists, her voice comes out in a defiant whisper. "Not my dog..."

Around the corner: the dog sprawls out, belly up, twisting this way and that with legs kicking into the air. Some sasquatch of a man lacking hair only upon his head kneels over the playful squirming form; his giant hands dance across the furry chest. "Whose a good doggy!"

Avery's brain sputters and she grinds to a halt. The man's head turns upward with a smile tucked under a well-oiled curly mustache. "Avery! Back already? Could have swore the semester just started a week ago."

Her brain catches up, recognition dawning and her twisted face relaxing. "Barclay!"

He scratches underneath his short-sleeved turtleneck's collar with one finger and pats the dog's side. "This lad your's?"

"No, I was trying to stop him so he didn't get hurt."

Barclay stands up with the leash in his hand. "Can't have that. How about we look for whoever he's lost together?"

Barclay's smile is infectious, so Avery beams back at him. "Yeah! I'd love to catch up."

They turn back the way Avery came. The German Shepard weaves between people, trees, and fire hydrants ahead.

Avery nods down towards Barclay's outfit. "Not patrolling this time of day anymore?"

Barclay tilts his head and points a finger at his ear, indicating a black earpiece with a blinking blue light. "Of course I am! You don't want some out-of-town licensee coming in, do you?"

"Then what's with the outfit?"

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"Dry cleaning taking too long. Are you done with school now?"

"Almost. I still have to do a mandatory work-study to complete my degree."

"You're doing biology right? What's the requirements for the work-study?"

"Biology. And I have to work under a scientist in the field."

Barclay raises a thick, oiled eyebrow in Avery's direction. "Would the aquarium work? I know Valarie is hiring."

A cloud forms in Avery's mind. "Yeah, I talked to my parents about it earlier today."

The dog's tail wags and his mouth opens into a pointy-toothed smile; a woman stops in front of the three and heaves breaths. "Oh my god, thank you so much. I had his leash tied to my chair and he pulled it out from under me trying to chase that cat."

Sputtering cars of every make and model drive by, their sounds mix with the rustle of wind-shaken leaves and the chatter of passing strangers. Barclay lunges forward to the intersection's crossing button and taps it. "Park, right? This'll be where we part. My patrol path is down the opposite way."

A smile mixes with regret in Avery's eyes and she wraps her arms around him in a hug, his hulking frame making her well-toned arms look like toothpicks. "Right. It was nice talking again, Barclay. Can we get together soon? I want to hear about all your cool crime fighting."

Barclay's arms tighten around Avery too and he barks a laugh. "Of course! A new restaurant opened a couple blocks down that has a ton of meat alternatives. I think you'd like it. The owners are good people. I also stop by the aquarium a bit to have tea with Valarie if you end up working there."

The cloud in Avery's mind grows thicker and she lets go. "Okay, I'll text you later about planning."

Barclay turns to walk away and waves an open hand behind him. "Talk to you soon!"

Avery wanders across the street into the park. Why is everyone pushing?

The wind picks up, the gentle swaying gradient of orange, red, and yellow shifts into a storm of colors. Avery lifts a leg behind her and pulls with her arm, the familiar feeling of warmth from stretched tendons spreads up her calf and thigh. Time to actually run.

Time blurs. Not from anything supernatural or superhuman; that's just what happens when Avery runs. Her brain quiets down, her breathing and posture now the primary focus. And She flies; each foot contacts the dirt path for but a moment and the wind roars around her.

A water fountain lies along the path ahead. Avery's heart thumps along to her heavy breathing and she slams a hand onto the fountain's push button. Ice cold water shoots out in an arc. She drops her head into the stream and lets it run all over her head; then she gulps it down.

Sweat is every where. Avery sweeps her mind over her body, focusing on every bit of uncomfortable moisture clinging to her: left over water on her chin, sweat stains on her clothes, and that pool inside her shoes fall through her silhouette and splashes around her -- almost as if Avery stopped existing. Her nose wrinkles as the musky odor hits her. She slumps far away, collapses onto a bench, and stretches herself out on her back, legs dangling at odd angles over harsh metal edges. At least she's clean now.

The clouds are still there in her mind, not outran or blown away by heavy winds. Avery's eyes dim and she pushes herself up onto her butt. There's only one real decision. Everyone expects it.

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