The Gang

If being on the run is stressful enough, try being on the run in a foreign country.


We were scaling the icy roads of Russia. Climbing walls and running across rooftops with our new gang. We had been training for this for a life time. It was like we were closer with our primates, the monkeys. No one was faster or more acrobatic than our crew.

But guns were stolen, and threats were exchanged, and the enemy was after us.


They were stronger than we were, but if we kept running, they would never catch up.


We panicked trying to keep our whole crew together. The slower ones got left behind. Our fingers were battered from constantly climbing in the 20 degree temperatures. We grew accustomed to barrel fires in alley ways with plenty of ways to escape if shit went bad.


We were always on our toes.


On our longest journey, the enemy chased us as far as the mountains. We climbed and hiked with little food and protection. Frost bite set in, but there was no going back. We arranged for a chopper to pick us up on the North side of the mountains. Jamie was the flyer; she was no expert, but she was the best we had. She picked us up with them on our heels. With Jamie's poor flying skills, and a broken helicopter, we couldn't fly too far. She dropped us off on an island off of Russia. It was sandy and warm compared to Russia, but we had no idea where we were.


We walked into some local shops to get some food and possibly a change of clothes. There were foreign fruits and snacks that we had never head of. The people were looking at us strangely so we, like always, moved quickly.


We noticed large vehicles loaded with men with guns pulling out of nowhere. We had to escape. Not knowing where we were, we ran frantically sand flying in every direction. The extreme temerpature changes seemed to mess with our heads, leaving us delirious and confused. We found ourselves trapped by high fences with barbed wire on one side, and the armed men on the other. We put our palms to the air knowing it was over. Every man had their gun cocked and ready aiming at our hearts.  One mad yelled at us in a unknown language, but then he said in Russian: Вы никогда не можете побежать достаточно быстро.

You can never run fast enough.

7.5.11
Influences
I have been watching shows with "gangs" in them lately
?