Flux

splattered with blood, Iain took the steps two at a time. The policeman, after leaping clear over the bailiff on the floor without so much as a second glance, was hot on his heels. Without pausing, Iain pulled over the cupboard at the bottom of the stairs, the one with all the letters on it, and was out of the front door and onto the street.
    On the pavement opposite, stood Bert. He was laughing. Next to him sitting patiently on its haunches was a gargoyle. Perched in a nearby tree was a magpie, which had just landed there after flying from the ledge outside Iain’s window.
    Nettie, wondering what all the banging was about, stuck her head out of her door, causing the policeman to pull up short rather than knocking her to the ground.
    “What’s going on here?” she asked in her frail, shaky voice.
    The policeman ignored her to continue the pursuit.
    “Bloody charming!” She shook her head and went back in to carry on watching darts on TV.

    Barefoot, he ran out of the door and down the street, the policeman not far behind and closing the distance between them. Iain had a plan, to make it to the Common and hide. It wasn’t much of a plan but it was all he had. To go directly would lead the police straight to him and leave no room for escape, so instead of turning right out of the door towards the Common, Iain went left.
    Just yards up the road, he took a sharp turn into a narrow alley. It was bin collection day and large green wheelie bins, not yet collected and still full, filled the passage. Iain yanked a couple of them over as he bolted past, spilling the contents over the ground. The policeman rounded the corner at full pelt and ran straight into the first bin. He hit the floor with a thud, knocking the wind from himself. Iain had bought himself valuable seconds. He raced around the warren of alleys behind the houses on auto-pilot. This was territory he knew well. Treading on a shard of broken glass, Iain didn’t slow as it pierced his bare foot; in fact he hardly felt it. Small drops of blood marked his passage.
    Glancing over his shoulder, the policeman was nowhere in sight. Good, the final sprint to reach the Common meant crossing the main road, a dual carriageway with a central reservation, which would leave him exposed for vital moments. Without slowing to look, he sprinted across all four lanes of traffic. Luckily no cars were close enough to hit him but one did have to slam the brakes on hard, skidding to a halt and another gave a long beep of the horn.
    He’d made it to the trees. Pushing deep into the undergrowth, brambles cut into his skin and pointed twigs cut his feet. He felt no pain but Iain had to find himself a hiding place and quickly. With his heart pounding hard enough to be seen through his breastbone and his lungs screaming at him to stop, he half fell into an overgrown ditch. Lying in the bottom, Iain pushed himself under a bush and into the marshy vegetation.
    He tried to quieten his heavy breathing, but could hear no sign of the pursuing policeman. Still, he lay motionless, stagnant water and mud caressing his skin. Iain was reminded of his dream in the bomb crater. He tried to calculate his next course of action, knowing it would be impossible to stay half buried forever but he would surely be caught if he dared to break cover. Maybe if he waited until nightfall he could slip away. But where to? Home wasn’t an option; the police would already be going over the place with a fine tooth comb but being only half dressed and covered in mud, he’d stand out like a sore thumb if he tried anywhere else. He could try Dave, but he was living with his parents and would be a risky option. Iain was out of choices.
    The helicopter hummed in the distance, getting closer and it took Iain a few moments to realise it was probably looking for him. Now he was truly scared and pressed himself further into the mud. Would they be able to see him under the bushes? He remembered that they carried infra-red cameras. A few months before, a cannabis factory in somebody’s loft was raided after a police helicopter picked up the heat from the growing lights, glowing brightly through the poorly insulated roof. The helicopter was bound to see him, glowing red under the bushes.
    A random memory came to him then; of the film Predator and the scene where Arnie covered himself in cool mud to make himself invisible to the alien. Working quickly, Iain gathered large handfuls of mud and started to smear it all over