Day 6: Short Fiction 2014 – Mallory’s Bad Day Part 2

**Disclaimer: There is 1 piece of foul language at the end of the piece.
Please skip the last line if you find yourself insulted, or upset by strong language. **


Mallory pulled the old man along. They were two cars down from where she had shocked the clown, but the next stop wasn’t for another five minutes. That was plenty of time to get caught.

“Keep moving.” She growled as her hand slipped on his collar.

“Where are we going?” He wheezed.

“This way.”


“Because if we stop he’ll find us.” She glared back at him. Why the hell had she helped him? Stupid old man got tangled up in the clowns, she should have just let him go. “Did he have any friends?”


She pulled him by his shirt collar. He was about an inch taller than her, so she tugged him down to her level.

“The clown.” She hissed as her eyes darted around the car. “Was he alone?”

“I think so.”

She let him go with a sigh. “You think, or you know?”

“It all happened so fast.” He shifted from foot to foot. “I was in my car, something exploded, and then the door opened up and they pulled me out. They dragged me to the subway before I even knew what was happening.”

She took a deep cleansing breath. “You keep saying they.”

“The big guy took me on the train.” He shrugged. “I don’t know about the others.”

“Why did they take you in the first place?”

“I don’t know.” He whined.

“Break times over.” She pulled him along. “The clowns aren’t as stupid as they let on, they’ve got a plan, and it includes you.”

“Why does it matter?” He shrugged out of her grip, but kept following.

“Then I’ll know how bad they want you.” The unmistakable pop of the car door opening put an extra pip in her step. “Duck down, move slow. Hunch if you have to.  He’s looking for someone your height.”

“How do you know this?” He shook his head as he slouched over.

She pulled the overcoat off of him and draped it over a sleeping tramp.

“What are you doing?” He stared wide-eyed at her.

“That jacket is too nice. He’ll be looking for it.”

The old man pulled some things out of the pockets and stuffed them into his suit coat.

“An old man in a suit one the subway.” She growled. “Yeah, no one will notice that.”

“I’m not that old.” He huffed as the moved along in their slouched shamble.

“Suit, car, and stim treatments to fight off age.” Mallory stole a look back at the front of the car. “Were they after a ransom? Grab the rich guy and hustle him back to whoever cares.”

“You seem to know a lot about his things like that work.” The tips of his ears went pink. “What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t.” She flashed a urchin grin. “Mallory. What about you?”

He hesitated. “Smith.”

“Fine, Mr. Smith.” She rolled her eyes. “Let’s keep you alive long enough to get you safe.”

“I have a panic button.”

She stopped. “You do?”

He held up his wrist, a little red light flashed on his wrist. “I pressed it the moment I got away from him.”

The lights on the train flickered, and then died a moment before the car lurched to a stop.

“Well shit.” She groaned.


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Filed under Mallory's Bad Day, Short Fiction

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