For the next hour or two—he lost track of time—Jaysynn traced through the city. He jumped from rooftop to rooftop if he could to avoid being seen. Whenever the alleys were too wide to jump, he descended to the ground and ran through the nearly empty streets. A few people saw him, but they usually ignored him. Perhaps they thought he was a runaway or a criminal. He received some rare shouts, but was usually climbing a ladder or antenna tower to a rooftop before anyone could say anything.
Once or twice he had to avoid a lighted window as he climbed, but they were not a problem. However, he failed to avoid one that was to a boy’s bedroom, which Jaysynn learned when he heard the child excitedly shouting at his mother that he saw a man climbing the wall outside. Thankfully, the mother just told him to go to bed.
Jaysynn had forgotten how free tracing made him feel. No restrictions, no limits, no boundaries. Every fiber of his being screamed with exuberance even as his muscles burned and sweat stung his eyes. Alive. That was how he felt. Alive. Like he could touch the sky or conquer the world. This was what he was meant to do, who he was meant to be. His family could keep their magic powers. Their abilities had made them arrogant, selfish, and lazy. Could they experience the thrill of tracing? Could they see the city as he saw it now as a man battling against gravity and winning? Flight was rare even among Select.
Maybe I can fly, thought Jaysynn, but he laughed in his head at the thought.
Now Jaysynn could no longer hear his screaming muscles. A few blocks back, the delightful smell of fresh bread amid the stench stirred his hunger, so he rolled to a stop as he landed on the roof of a short building. This is probably an apartment complex, he thought. I hope no one’s awake enough to come see who’s stomping around on the roof. Stepping toward the building’s ledge, he pulled off his backpack and sat down, leaning against the short wall. He unzipped the backpack and produced his canteen and the bag of bread. Both were a little worse for wear: the canteen was dented in several spots and the bread had been squashed. Still edible, though. He brought the canteen to his mouth, pulled the tab with his teeth, and gladly swigged three mouthfuls of refreshing cool water.
He opened the bag of bread and was about to bite into it when he heard voices in the alley below. Three men and a woman. The woman, whose lyrical voice exuded innocence, sounded nervous. The men, however, sounded licentious, like wolves on the prowl. Jaysynn replaced his canteen and bread in his bag and peered over the wall, looking down.
Four figures stood at the back of the dead-end alley under a flickering lamp, whose light was so dirty it left smudges on Jaysynn’s eyes. The woman—so young she seemed barely out of girlhood—had long locks of tarnished gold for hair. Her face was painted with heavy make-up, like she was a doll. Her skin, whether tanned or grimy Jaysynn could not tell, was otherwise smooth. He could tell because she was showing much of it. She wore a low-cut leather blouse that bared her midriff and a miniskirt that barely concealed her underwear. She staggered in the mile-high-heel shoes. The men all wore grungy clothes and ravenous expressions.
“You brought us here to have a good time, right, babe?” said the tallest man, who seemed to be the leader.
The girl spoke as awkwardly as she walked. “Yes…but just one at a time. And…I need the money first.” Her eyes betrayed her disgust.
“You done this before?” asked one of the other men, incredulous.
“Yeah…all the time.” She tried to sound seductive. “I…like it dirty. Don’t you?”
One of the other men huffed. “Then why you talking like the virgin I shredded in bed last night?”
Fright crept onto her painted face. “I-I’m not a virgin…”
The tall man clutched her small shoulders, and she squealed in pain. “How ‘bout I see myself if you’ve been deflowered? Then maybe I’ll pay you extra for taking your virginity—or less because you don’t know how to shred properly? Then my buddies can have what’s left of you.”
“No fair!” they said.
“Shut up!” He tore at her blouse.
“No, please!” the girl shouted.
Jaysynn’s first instinct was to leave since what was coming would be ugly. Then like a bolt of his father’s lightning, a thought struck him: This is my chance to win glory in battle, like my brother! I can prove I’m as much a warrior as he is! The girl may even kiss me out of gratitude! Excitement coursed through Jaysynn, reinvigorating his muscles. Impulsively, he jumped over the ledge with his backpack in hand, dropping two stories and making a three-point landing on a dumpster with a crash. With his hood concealing his face, he looked up at the surprised dregs and shouted, “Get your filthy hands off her!”
“Kill him!” ordered the tall man.
His friends instantly rushed Jaysynn.
The prince sprang, flipping over the two men as they encroached. He landed, tossing his backpack aside, and charged at the leader. The girl squirmed from his grip. Four strides and, jumping, Jaysynn kicked the fiend in the chest, launching him into the wall, where he collapsed. The girl, frightened, fell to her hands and knees.
Jaysynn turned to face the others. “Stay behind me!” he commanded the girl, glancing over his shoulder and smiling.
The two men charged. With lightning speed, Jaysynn jumped at the wall, sprang off, and kicked one in the head, knocking him down as teeth and blood flew out of his opponent’s mouth. The last man he stopped dead in his tracks by punching him in the face. The man lurched back, crying in pain, with blood gushing from his broken nose. Shaking his head, he recovered enough to retaliate, but instantly found Jaysynn’s knife at his throat.
Jaysynn, keeping his face hidden under the hood, spoke with a voice full of heroic pride. “Leave now and I might forget to call the police. Otherwise…” He had no intention of killing them, but they did not know that.
His foe now had sweat mingling with the blood on his face. He nervously gestured to his friends. Jaysynn heard them stagger behind him. Only when they had walked behind the man he had at knifepoint did he lower his blade. Standing ramrod straight, Jaysynn glared at the three dregs until they disappeared around the corner.
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