07-31-2009

This is almost too raw and needs a lot of revision, but it's not too bad.

Start Fiction:


     Stanley jumped up put of his seat and ripped open the door of Frank's office and moved in the short hallway. A quick right turn, Stanley grabbed the door jamb and swung himself around and headed for the stairs. As he descended, the steps snapped under his feet verses their regular creaking.
     Reaching the main floor, Stanley bounced off the walls of the crooked hallway as made his "escape". Keeping his footing, he reached the lobby where the clients in the waiting room had squeezed into a corner. Frank called out after him, trying to get Stanley to calm down, but he was one of them.
     Without losing a step, he grabbed the door handle, shoved the door open and slammed in to the outside door. It swung open, not out; step lost. Gathering himself, Stanley flung the door open, jumped off the stoop and ran towards downtown in a dead sprint; he ran steady and sure.
     There were literally a hundred places to hide, ways to lose his the people "chasing" him. He could run in and through most establishments, skipping through town thanks to alleys.
     Stanley decided to enter the public library. He stopped running and headed upstairs quickly moving to the west end of the building and the stairwell leading back out to the pedestrian mall. He quickly descended the vacant stairs. Reaching the exit, he surveyed the ped mall for Frank or anyone else chasing him. Who he was looking for, he wasn't sire, but he was now convinced they were out there and they were after him.
     Stanley walked out the door, headed north and came to an alley. He saw two men in dark suits and sunglasses coming up the alley looking under cars, behind the boxes and dumpsters lining the alley. He continued north another block and turned west on Washington Street. He headed for Jimmy John's.
     He entered a rather full store. He looked out in to the street looking for more men, more people chasing him. All clear, as far as he knew. It was hard to escape an unknown enemy, but he knew they were enemies and that was all that mattered.
     Catching his breath, he turned and headed for the back. Stanley knew there had to be a rear exit, but it was an emergency exit with and alarm. That was the last thing he needed so he decided to enter the kitchen and use the delivery entrance instead.
     As Stanley crossed the employee threshold, two employees just looked at him. He put his finger to his lip and walked to the back of the kitchen. Hanging by the door was a embroidered Jimmy John's shirt and a hat; a slight disguise just might do the trick. Stanley quickly adorned himself and popped the door open and tried to casually walk out in to the alley. No one was I the alley, either to the west or east.
     He made his way back to Dubuque Street and turned north once again. The street seemed quiet enough until he got to the corner.
     "Stanley!" Frank yelled from behind him. Stanley turned around and saw Frank walking fast towards him and two other men running towards him on the other side of the street.
     Stanley bolted in to traffic, shooting diagonally to the Biology East building. Lots of space to run and hide; exits to Van Allen Hall leading to more mazes for escape. It had been years since he had been in either building, but his adrenaline was refreshing his memory.
     He decide to bolt straight down the first floor hallway and shoot straight through Van Allen and head up Linn Street. As he came out of the Biology building he jumped over the ramp handrail, on to the service drive and bolted across the lawn on the back side of Van Allen.
     Stanley quickly decided to just run around the building and on to the walkway in between Van Allen and Seashore Hall. As he sprinted he smiled and felt strong, empowered and for once good about himself. Stanley felt free.
     Approaching the corner of Linn and Jefferson, Stanley realized a man was running directly at him with a gun pointed at him. Stanley glanced down and saw a red dot on his chest and stopped. It was over; he was theirs, whoever they were.
     A hand landed on Stanley's shoulder. The man with the gun stopped running, quickly lowered his weapon and shoved it in to his jacket. Stanley kept his eyes trained on the gunman, waiting for what was to come.
     "Stanley," Frank said. "You were never to have any knowledge of any of this."
     "So, I am not crazy," he said. He dropped his head and laughed, relieved his mind was firm.
     "No, but now we need to help you so you don't go crazy and to do that, you must come with us," Frank told him as a white van pulled up and the side doors opened.
     "Am I going to die, Frank?"
     "No, Stanley," he said as he tapped his shoulder directing him to the van. "You're too important to the project. You have a whole new life ahead of you."



End Fiction.