James

Despite the cold, my heated face streams sweat which soaks down my neck and into my clothes.

Slow down, Man…

You can’t sprint for a mile…

I drop to a trot and my heartbeat decelerates to something more sustainable. The banging behind my ears subsides.

Don’t panic…

The kidnappers may say Don’t be late, but their priority is the money.

Irony slaps me around the cheeks. Here I am, in an area I wouldn’t normally consider walking at night, certainly not alone. And I’m running through it, toting a bag containing a cool million in cash.

The steady rhythm of my jogging sets a metronome ticking in my head, clearing my thoughts.

How fast is a jog?

Six miles an hour?

So, I should cover my mile in the ten minutes I have.

Calm down…

Nonetheless, I find myself counting paces; eating up distance with each one…

They must be watching me…

Where are they watching from?

A parked car?

I pass, where they can lurk in

Could be anywhere.

alongside the river. Once an attractive place for pleasure boats and day-trippers; now derelict, the

parts of town. As the name suggests, it consists of four blocks of houses and

by floodlights set in grassy lawns. The fountain, also floodlit, dances and sparkles by the central Christmas tree which stands tall, proclaiming Goodwill

one or two

moment I drop, hands resting on knees as I regain my

For what?

pace, scanning

in

“James?”

arrived, Ross, but I

did the message say,

aloud. “Corner of Birch

behind the western side of the square. Perhaps it’s

Stupid… Stupid…

right. I’ll go

down, James. Keep your thinking

but I don’t

built on three stories ending in a small parade of designer

Still nothing.

and down, my breathing tightens again as I look for

Doorways…

Store windows…

A mailbox…

Nothing…

they make it hard to

to bubble inside me. My watch tells me

must be watching

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

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