Read Online Wild-born by Adrian Howell - Free Book Online Page B

face, I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I could hear Ralph humming to himself outside and thought, under the circumstances, how fortunate I was to have him taking care of me. Ralph was a good guy, always on my side. He would keep me safe.
    I was about to go back into the bedroom when I noticed that there was something in my pocket. What was it? I reached in. Suddenly I felt a little dizzy. I pulled out a ballpoint pen and wondered how it had gotten there.
    Slowly, my memories from last night were coming back to me. It hadn’t been a dream after all. I had put the pen in my pocket to trick myself into touching it. But why would I do such a thing? Why did I want to drain myself? Why had I thought that Ralph was a bad guy? Why did I want to run away from him?
    It didn’t make any sense. I certainly had no desire to run from Ralph. Ralph was my friend. He needed me, and he was one of the good guys.
    No, said that small voice again.
    No what? I thought.
    Just... no.
    Not even sure exactly why I was doing it, I touched the tip of the pen again, and a minute later, my mind cleared.
    All of my previous questions answered, now I was faced with the one question that I had failed to answer last night: What next? I was trapped in a bathroom. The moment I stepped out, I would be put right back under Ralph’s control.
    I turned the faucet to hot water only and touched the stream with one finger. It was scalding. After filling a plastic drinking cup with the steaming water, I stepped back into the bedroom.
    “What’s that you got there, lad?” asked Ralph.
    I didn’t answer, and I made sure not to look into his eyes. There’d be no building up to this fight. I couldn’t let him see it coming. I threw the water at him and, before he could even scream, I blasted him backwards with both arms stretched out. He fell flat on his back, winded by the impact and blinded by the water that had, miraculously, splashed onto his face.
    The wind was beginning to pick up. My first instinct was to run, but I knew Ralph would catch me. I grabbed one of the wooden dining chairs by its back and brought it down on him as hard as I could. I didn’t actually want to kill him, but I didn’t not want to either. I didn’t care at all. All I cared about was stopping him. One of the chair legs hit his head, and the wind stopped. I didn’t know if Ralph was alive or dead, but I wasn’t about to find out.
    I grabbed Ralph’s black leather wallet, which was sitting on the little dining table, and ran from the room. When my feet touched the cold concrete of the outside corridor, I realized that I wasn’t even wearing socks, but I didn’t stop. I jumped both flights of stairs, hardly bothering to soften my impact at the bottom of either. Bursting through the back door of the hotel into the early-morning light, I just kept on running.

C hapter 4: Night Heights
    I didn’t care where I was going. I just had to go as fast and as far as I could. I sprinted down the sidewalk, past little shuttered shops and cheap-looking apartment buildings, and dipped into an alleyway where a squawking murder of crows had to take evasive maneuvers to keep from being trampled on as I darted through them. I came out the other side to another wide road where I saw a group of people, mostly dark-suited businessmen with leather briefcases, filing onto a commuter bus. They stared as I rushed aboard at the last second, barefoot, out of breath and clutching a stitch in my side, but I didn’t care.
    I had to pay my fare in coins taken from Ralph’s wallet, but I didn’t want to touch the metal money. This drew even more awkward looks from the passengers because I asked the bus driver to pick out the correct amount directly from the coin pocket. The driver must have thought I was crazy, but he didn’t comment as he took the coins.
    I kept looking back as the bus started to move, expecting Ralph to come running after me at any moment, maybe sending a tornado at me. The bus