I did it.

  I escaped.

  All of my years of planning finally paid off. I thought I would be sitting in a jail cell by now, but instead, I'm free, bitch.

  After I escaped, I ran straight into the forest.

  Tall green trees towered above me, letting in the afternoon sun.

  But as I was looking up at the trees, my leg got caught on the root of a tree. The bad thing is, I was running as fast as I could, so when my leg got caught, it pulled it even farther out of the ground, and the root snapped, sending me flying. I then made sure to land on my legs, because I could not risk a head or back injury while on the run from police, but as the sharp root flew down, I realized I was fucked.

  “OH SHIT, IT STABBED ME!” I screamed as I started to realize the blood pouring out of my lower leg.

  I then knew what I had to do: get the root out of my leg. It would hurt a lot, but it would be worth it, and I would hopefully still be able to catch my flight.

  “Let’s hope this works,” I said as I started to rip up my only long-sleeved shirt.

  I made sure to rip up the rest of my shirt and hide it, so I was just about to remove the giant piece of tree root when I realized I had to do it now, or I would get caught and go to jail for real. My hand wrapped around the jagged piece of root.

  It was slick with blood.

  I hesitated.

  If I passed out here, the police would find me in minutes.

  I clenched my teeth.

  “Three… two… one—”

  I pulled.

  Pain exploded through my leg like fire. My vision went white for a second, and I almost blacked out.

  I then covered the wound with one sleeve from my shirt and tightened it as much as I could. As soon as I was done tightening my makeshift tourniquet-bandage, I got back up and ran, making sure to miss roots and long sticks. The police realized I would’ve fled to the forest pretty quickly after I escaped, their red and blue lights with piercing sirens alerting anything nearby. The police also set up posts and heat radars to try to find me. Little do they know, I’m smarter than to run straight into their traps.

  Around five minutes after I made it out, I heard helicopters overhead. The heavy thudding of their blades rolled across the forest canopy.

  I froze.

  Slowly, I looked up through the branches.

  A searchlight cut through the trees, sweeping back and forth across the ground. It was strange seeing it already,it was still evening, but I guessed they wanted the highest chance of spotting me before night fell.

  Then something shot through the air and slammed into the helicopter.

  CLANG.

  The metallic crack of the helicopter breaking into pieces echoed across the forest.

  The aircraft lurched violently to one side. The searchlight spun wildly, flashing across the trees like lightning.

  “Oh, my god…” I whispered.

  Flames suddenly burst from the tail.

  The helicopter spiralled downward, smashing through branches and tearing apart the treetops before disappearing deeper into the forest.

  For a moment, there was silence.

  Then the explosion shook the ground beneath my feet.

  Most people wouldn’t know what to do in that situation, but I had been preparing every little detail of my plan perfectly for years. Flights, prepared to fly anywhere in the world, all first class, fitting every situation. Still, the part I wasn’t prepared for was the police searching and locking everything down within 5 minutes of my escape.

  When I had made it to the airport, the first thing I noticed was 2 ATM’s, I ran to the first ATM I saw, using my burner card that was hooked up to my new identity, and withdrew €50,000, but when the money was about to come out, it said that the ATM had shut down and wouldn’t allow any money to come out and ejected my card, so I ran to the ATM on the other side of the wall and thankfully nobody was there, so I put my card number in and typed €50,000 but it said that the max was €35,000, so the machine began spitting out stacks of cash.

  €500.

  €1,000.

  €5,000.

  The seconds dragged as the airport buzzed around me.

  €12,000.

  €15,000.

  €20,000.

  “Go faster,” I muttered under my breath.

  I was just glad it still worked until around €30,000 in, it said the ATM was shutting down due to “extreme criminal activity in the area” and would eject my card, so I thought I would get around 2,000 more euros until it just stopped ejecting money and ejected my card out, then blaring a beeping noise and played a message saying.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “This ATM is now closed temporarily due to extreme criminal activity in the area.” Then, saying the message in French and Spanish.

  Before I walked into the airport, I turned around, hearing the sound of speeding sirens getting closer, and realized that all the cameras would notice me, so I looked around to see if I had memorized everything right.

  Just as I memorized it, all the cameras in the same spot, the security, and the exits, just in case.

  I then also checked the board to make sure my flight wasn’t cancelled, or else I might as well just go straight to plan B.

  “Ok, good, still gate 9,” I mumbled to myself over the noise in the airport.

  Just as I realized that there were noises in the airport, I started hearing them. I heard kids crying loudly, lots of talking, and then a big group of people standing in front of a TV, which had 2 news anchors, talking about “criminal activity” in the area. I immediately knew it was about me and tried to get out of that area. I headed to the bathroom to try to get my wound cleaned out, but first, I found a store with medical supplies.

  “Hello, can I get a medical pack for deep wounds?” I asked nicely.

  “Uh, yeah, but you don’t look like you have a deep wound.” The cashier said snarkily.

  “Ok, listen here you–,” I cut myself off. “I don’t have a deep wound, I just want it in case I need it, Ok?” I replied.

  The worker then grabbed the medical pack and handed it to me. I paid with cash and headed to the bathroom. As I walked into the bathroom, I made sure nobody else was in there.

  “Hello? Is anyone in here?” I yelled.

  Nobody answered.

  I then locked the door from the inside and headed to the sink. I first opened the kit: gauze, tweezers, stitches, cleaning alcohol wipes, a big cleaning alcohol bottle, and many other things. I first grabbed the alcohol bottle and opened it. I then put it directly on the wound, and it hurt like hell, but I couldn’t let it put me out; I had to keep going, or I wouldn’t catch my flight. After toughing through the pain of the alcohol wash, I untied the shirt, got the stitches and alcohol wipes ready, and took it off. Blood immediately poured out of the wound and all over the sinks and mirrors, but it was going to bleed anyway. I then grabbed the alcohol wipes and took one out and wiped all around the cut. I grabbed the tweezers and went to work. I dug deep into my skin, my skin making a squelching sound as I pulled out big chunks of root. I then grabbed the stitches and pulled out more wipes and wiped my skin once again, and started stitching up my skin. I thought I was going to die, but at least my bleeding was calming down.

  As I finished up my stitching, I grabbed an emergency match from the medical pack, grabbed the alcohol, threw the open bottle, lit the match, and threw it. The bathroom was in flames in seconds. I ran out, and I headed to the last place anyone would think I would go, and walked to security.

  None of the TVs had shown my face or any news about me yet, so I knew I had to get through security and on the plane quickly. As I approached the scanner in the security line, I realized that nobody in this area had noticed the bathroom fire yet, and I was given directions on what to do and how to go through the scanner.

  “D'accord, madame, vous devrez retirer vos chaussures et vous assurer d'enlever tout piercing ou tout objet métallique de vos poches. Avez-vous du métal dans la bouche ou dans le corps après une opération ou un implant ?” The woman who looked like a police officer said as the TV started playing the news.

  “Bonsoir à tous. Nous avons des nouvelles récentes. Une tueuse en série vient de s'évader d'une escorte policière qui l'emmenait en prison. Il s'agit d'Amelia De Salvatore. Sa photo sera affichée dans quelques instants, afin que chacun puisse l'identifier.” The news anchors said.

  “Is that her?” A woman behind me said.

  “Is that who?” Another woman replied to her.

  “The serial killer that they are talking about on the TV.” She said, trying to gesture to her friend that it was me without me noticing, but I noticed.

  My heart felt like it was going to explode, I hoped they were talking about someone else, but nope, it was obviously me that they were talking about.

  “Girl, there’s no way in hell that a serial killer would go straight to an airport, and don’t you think that they would already have a photo of her up if it was her. Look around, there are cameras everywhere.” She said, replying to her friend.

  I then took a few deep breaths, I removed my earrings slowly and placed them in the gray plastic tray. My phone followed, then the small wallet from my pocket. The tray slid away down the metal rollers toward the X-ray machine.

  The woman at security nodded toward the scanner.

  “Go ahead, madame.”

  I stepped forward, trying to keep my breathing steady. The airport felt louder now — rolling suitcases, people talking, the distant roar of airplane engines outside the windows.

  Behind the officer, the televisions suddenly switched to a news broadcast.

  “Bonsoir à tous. Nous avons des nouvelles récentes…”

  My stomach tightened.

  I forced myself not to look at the screen as I stepped through the scanner.

  “…une tueuse en série vient de s'évader…”

  BEEP.

  The sharp sound echoed through the security lane. My heart dropped. The officer raised an eyebrow.

  “Ma’am, please step back through.”

  People behind me shifted impatiently. I could feel their eyes on my back as I stepped out of the scanner.

  “Before I search you,” she continued, “would you like to admit to having anything metal on you?”

  If the officer searched my bag, everything would be over.

  Prison.

  Trial.

  Life behind bars.

  I forced myself to keep breathing normally.

  “Oh—” I gave a small, embarrassed laugh. “I’m so sorry. I forgot to take off my anklet.”

  The officer’s expression softened.

  “Ah. That happens all the time.”

  Just as those words came out of her mouth, I heard in the background the TV anchors talking about how they just got a picture, and showed it on all the TVs in the airport, I turned around quick and realized it was a picture from just now, it was just me looking at the TV, but anyone could tell it was me and not some “other girl”.

  I then practically jumped into my shoes, grabbed every other object I had with me, and before I ran I also noticed that people started to notice the fire, and my flight could not get canceled, so I ran across the airport to my gate, my legs feeling more numb with every step, until I finally made it to gate 9 as an announcement played.

  “NEW YORK, USA, LAST CALL FOR BOARDING.”

  I went straight to the check-in, handed the nice lady my boarding pass, and headed to first class. But as I was walking through the gate, I couldn’t believe the jammer in my wallet worked, but good thing it did, because now I have my gun with my silencer.

  Around 2 minutes after sitting down, the plane's engines finally started to rumble. Then, seconds after the engines started rumbling, we started to move back, my body jerking in response. As we turned around, more of the airport came into view, and the sun shone brightly through the windows, making the airport look as if it were being engulfed by the sun. Just as I started to enjoy the view, we were moving, slowly but surely. We then approached the runway, the pilot turning the plane to make sure we were aligned with the centerline.

  The plane then went to a halt for a minute, then the engines rumbled louder than they had before, and we started picking up speed. I knew the police would just be arriving, and they were, but as I looked out the window, I realized the police were right behind me the whole time, their cars on the runway, trying to get the plane to stop. But by the time they got the pilot's attention, all the cars were too close to the plane, and they all flew up into the air, spinning and flying nearly into our engines, but of going into our engines, they scratched the plane a bit at the most, and I watched as they slowly flew into the ground, smashing, one by one.

  Until the last car hit the runway, and silence for a second, but then, the entire mountain of cars was engulfed in flames, and the bottom car exploded, sending body parts and car debris flying all over the tarmac. But by the time the cars’ debris exploded into the air, it was too late. The fire from the bathroom and the exploding cars had then caused the airport to be set on fire.

  But we were already in the air.

  The burning airport grew smaller beneath the clouds.

  I leaned back in the first-class seat, finally breathing for the first time in hours.

  I had escaped.

  The fasten seatbelt sign dinged.

  Then the captain’s voice came over the speaker.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we have just received an emergency communication from authorities.”

  My stomach dropped.

  “This aircraft has been ordered to return to the airport immediately.”