The Thief

Submitted by Writer on Thu, 02/15/2018 - 12:17

Brooklyn ran like she never has before. She ran through the busy streets of Chicago without so much as a glance at the people she had accidentally shoved aside in her rush. She could hear police sirens behind her. She wove her way through the crowd with ease, the stolen goods in her bag. Her heart beating fast, she turned left into an abandoned alleyway. She ran to the side of the building, waiting for the sirens to whiz past. And they did. Took them long enough. With a sigh of relief, she started bounding up the fire escape of the abandoned building. Once she made it out onto the top, she strolled over to her hideout on the top of the building. Once inside she dropped the contents of her bag on the ground with the rest of the stolen objects she had recently acquired.

“Thought I would find you here.” a voice said behind her. She whipped around. There he was standing in all his glory. She could hear his deep, exaggerated, British accent and it gave her the strong desire to punch a wall. If she punched him he would most likely throw her off the side of the building. “I need you to do a job for me.”