For dverse, a 144 word flash fiction including the line ‘When far away, an interrupted cry’.
I have a good head start but they are crafty, sneaky, and they never tire. They’re onto me; I have to get out. It has to be after dark despite the curfew, because nobody just walks out of the city. I’m risking a bullet, but I have a plan.
Nights are always dark now, in these sad times, and the days are not much lighter. The air is full of smoke and fumes and dust from the buildings that fall down periodically from neglect. I know a house by the perimeter wall, abandoned and boarded up. Another unsafe dwelling. And the cellar door opens onto the outside.
The city is behind me now. I listen for my pursuers, when far away, an interrupted cry, mercifully short, tells me the trap has sprung. They might be crafty and sneaky, but I am the fox.