Fannec Records - Book 1: Outlaw - Chapter 5

The realization hit him like a punch to the gut: the smugglers knew his name and where he lived. His attempts to remain hidden were growing desperate as the pursuit closed in. The joviality and relief bled from his face, replaced by the icy grip of fear.

A bead of sweat trickled down Robert’s back as he sprinted toward his van, the dust kicking up behind him like a miniature sandstorm. His lungs burned, his legs seemed like they were made of jelly, and one hurt like hell, but he didn’t dare stop. A perverse thought crossed his mind that he’d never had to run this much in one day. It was almost funny, almost.

His eyes darted back and forth as he searched for a way out of this mess and slowed to a jog, trying to think about his situation. “I should’ve taken those improv classes.”

Robert’s mind raced, trying to devise a plan to throw the smugglers off his trail. As much as he wanted to drive straight home and bury his head under the covers, forgetting about the competition, he couldn’t risk leading them there. And he had no idea who else might be looking for him now.

“Okay, okay, think…” he said, “I need somewhere to hide. Somewhere… unexpected. Like a… like a… hair salon! Yeah, no one would ever think to look for me there.”

He shook his head, chuckling at the insanity of the idea. But as ridiculous as it was, it sparked another idea that just might work.

“Not a hair salon, but what about just traveling to Zorath and never returning?”

A little voice nagged at him in the back of his mind, warning that this plan was reckless. But he had no other choice. He’d have to take the risk if he wanted any chance of slipping away from the smugglers.

“Alright, abandoning my entire life it is. Who knows?” A grin spread across his face. “The repo men won’t find me either; two birds, one stone! At least then, this whole escapade wouldn’t be a total loss.”

With that thought in mind, Robert sped toward his rented van, determined to evade his pursuers and prove that he could handle whatever life threw at him. He approached his van with unease, noticing several nondescript cars parked near and around it. The vehicles were innocuous at first glance, but he spotted hidden markings etched into their sides as he drew closer. The faint insignias appeared to be some symbol, and Robert assumed they were here for him.

“Just what I need, more trouble.”

Before he pondered the implications further, heavy boots and authoritative voices filled the air. A group of men and women in black tactical gear swarmed the area, led by a man with an intimidating presence. His broad shoulders and muscular build gave him a commanding aura, while the stern expression on his face left no room for levity.

Robert recognized the uniforms and insignia as the SLPS. “What do they want with me?”

The leader of the SLPS stood out among his peers, not only for his imposing stature but also for the intensity that radiated from him. As he barked orders and surveyed the scene, it was clear that he was a man on a mission who would stop at nothing to achieve his goals. He was all business, and something told Robert he didn’t want to find himself on the wrong side of this man’s wrath.

“Move!” The leader’s voice was a deep baritone, as he gestured for his team to fan out and search the area. As they moved, Robert ducked behind a tree nearby, hoping to remain unseen. The tree was next to a small forgotten power terminal, the kind used to track power for buildings that Robert could hide behind.

Robert forces his erratic mind to conjure up a strategy, but he is so exhausted that all he can think about are the words: I want to sleep.

Fate has other plans for Robert.

“Escort Mr. Fannec to his van,” the planet of a man ordered one of his officers, his voice as unyielding as his rigid posture. “He’s not free to leave yet.”

Robert’s stomach sank as he realized he was no closer to escaping the mess he’d found himself in. He only wanted to get to the spaceport and put this complete debacle behind him.

“Outstanding,” his mind was racing with sarcastic quips in a desperate attempt to keep his growing anxiety at bay. “Who needs a gym when you’ve got the SLPS breathing down your neck? And how does everyone know so much about me?”

As an officer gripped Robert’s arm and led him toward his van, he couldn’t shake the gnawing fear that had taken root in his stomach. He knew he was innocent, but proving that to the authorities would be difficult. Robert had no way of demonstrating that he wasn’t involved with the criminals they were seeking, and he worried about what would happen if he failed to convince them.

“Of course. Who wouldn’t believe the word of a man out of breath, running from an abandoned mining facility to his van that’s parked alone in the desert?”

His fingers twitched, without his consent, as he fought the urge to run, knowing that an attempt to flee at this moment would only make him look more guilty and get him nowhere. Instead, he focused on putting one foot in front of the other, feeling the oppressive weight of the situation bearing down on him like an invisible yoke.

“Easy, Robert,” he forced a chuckle. “Play it cool and hope for the best. What could go wrong?”

As they reached the van, the officer released his grip on Robert’s arm but remained close, ensuring that any thoughts of escape were squashed without remorse. He glanced around, his eyes darting from one stern-faced SLPS officer to the next, each more imposing than the last.

“Alright, Fannec.” The officer beside Robert was unimpressed by the human. “Stay put, and don’t make any sudden moves. We’ll decide what to do with you soon enough.”

“Fantastic.” Robert rolled his eyes as he leaned against the van. “Just when I thought my day couldn’t get any better. I might as well start planning my grand escape now… or perhaps I should just accept my fate and start practicing my innocent face?”

Despite his efforts to maintain a brave façade, Robert couldn’t deny the mounting fear that threatened to consume him. As he stood there, trapped in a nightmarish blend of uncertainty and dread, he wondered if he’d ever find a way out of this.

The lead officer let out a sigh as he approached Robert. “My name is Commander Marcus Kane. Answer our questions, and we’ll get you on your way.”

“First,” Robert shot back, his nerves making him more defiant than he would’ve liked, “it’s Robert, and second, I doubt you’d believe me even if I told you everything.”

“Try us,” the mountain of an officer said, folding his arms.

“Look,” Robert struggled to keep his voice steady, “I wanted to get to the spaceport. I didn’t know anything about the smugglers or their plans.”

“Who said anything about smugglers?” The officer raised an eyebrow, not buying it. As Robert glanced around at the skeptical faces surrounding him, he knew that sharing his story would be an exercise in futility. He needed to devise a new plan that would allow him to escape this mess unscathed.

“Fine,” he said, feigning resignation. “I’ll tell you everything… But can I grab something from the van first? I need some medication if that’s okay,” he hoped it was a convincing tone.

“Make it quick, no funny business,” the officer gestured for the others to step back.

“Generous,” Robert said under his breath as he pretended to fumble with the van’s door handle while scanning the area for potential escape routes, attempting to be covert. His eyes landed on the shipyard in the distance, a chaotic jumble of rusted metal and decommissioned vessels that held promise.

“Alright,” he took a deep breath. “Shipyard it is.” The shipyard had once been a bustling area of activity, with a hive of workers repairing and maintaining vessels, loading and unloading cargo, and readying the ships for departure. Its metal structures glistened in the afternoon sun, and the sound of past hammers echoed in the air. Now, it looked left for dead.

As the SLPS officers watched from a safe distance, Robert climbed into the van under the pretense of collecting his belongings. While it may have looked like he was waiting, he was strategizing how to make his escape when the opportunity arose.

He counted down from three. With a burst of adrenaline-fueled energy, he threw open the van’s door and sprinted towards the shipyard, leaving the stunned officers in his dust. He ignored all the pain - the warning signal that he shouldn’t be doing any more physical activities.

“Hey!” One of the officers shouted, recovering from his surprise and remembering to sound like he was in charge. “Freeze!”

“Sorry, fellas! Can’t stick around for story time!” Robert’s voice was tinged with fear and exhilaration.

Robert could hear the Commander give orders but couldn’t determine what they were.

As he dashed across the uneven terrain, Robert marveled at the sheer absurdity of his current situation. Hours ago, he’d been an ordinary guy with a simple goal: to reach the spaceport and check into a competition. Now, he was a fugitive from both an organized crime outfit and the people he’d hoped would protect him from said organized crime outfit, and all because of a faulty safety system at an abandoned facility.

Fear and excitement coursed through his veins like liquid fire. Hope surged as he neared the shipyard, daring to take root in his chest. “Maybe this plan will work after all.” He scanned the area in desperation for any signs of activity.

“Never a dull moment, eh, Robert?” he said, laughing without humor, as he vaulted over a low fence and disappeared into the labyrinthine shipyard.

Robert was moments away from surrendering when he remembered stories of how the SLPS had treated their suspects, beating them into submission and throwing them in jail cells like animals. He clenched his jaw and tightened his fists, resolution fueling him to stay the course.

“Fannec, you really need to work on your cardio,” Robert said between labored breaths, feeling the burn in his legs. He pushed himself harder, determined not to get caught.

He prayed for people to be staffed at the shipyard that he could mingle with. The thought of blending in with a crowd of workers was far more appealing than playing a game of hide-and-seek with the SLPS.

Robert had heard tales of agents who were so single-mindedly determined to prove the guilt of a person they ignored or even destroyed evidence that pointed away from their target. He had heard of agents trashing reputations and ruining careers without a second thought.

“Come on, Robert, think positive! You’ve gotten this far, haven’t you?” Urging himself, trying to drown out the negative thoughts. Despite his best efforts, however, doubt continued to gnaw at the edges of his mind, making it difficult to concentrate.

“Stay focused,” he chided himself, shaking off the uncertainty and forcing his attention back onto the task. For the moment, at least, he had given his pursuers the slip.

“Alright, Step One, complete.” He took a second to allow himself a brief respite. “Now, to find a suitable hiding spot.”

Robert traipsed further into the shipyard but found no soul or sound of life. The grease, metal, and ozone aromas tickled his nostrils, making it appear that this place had been inhabited not too long ago.

He formed a sly smile, thinking of the progress he was making.

His eyes darted from one derelict ship to another, searching for any sign of life among the decaying wrecks. Though he longed for the comforting presence of other people, something was soothing about the eerie stillness that enveloped him.

A gentle breeze blew through the shipyard, carrying distant memories of his childhood. Remembering his mother’s words during trying times was a habit he had formed, as he would close his eyes and let her wisdom guide him through difficult moments. “Take courage from the storms, for they will make you wise. And if you ever feel lost, the stars shall guide your way”.

The vast shipyard sprawled before Robert like a graveyard of forgotten dreams. Derelict vessels lay scattered in various states of decay, their once proud hulls now marred by rust and corrosion. He knew he would find the perfect hiding spot within this maze of metal and machinery.

“Alright,” he said, “time to play hide-and-seek with professional people finders.” The thought made him smile.

“I should’ve taken up a career in espionage instead.” He darted behind a load of piled crates, unorganized and stacked in a chaotic fashion. The oil and rust aroma filled his nostrils, reminding him of some of the equipment he worked with at the industrial farm.

Robert’s eyes flitted from one potential hiding spot to another, assessing the merits of each as fast as he could. A tarp-covered mound here, a cluster of landing gear there. All were viable options, but none suited his needs.

“Come on, shipyard.” This was the most physical activity he had had since childhood. He ducked beneath the arching curve of a massive hull. “Give me something to work with here.”

He could hear the distant sounds of SLPS officers closing in, their voices punctuated by the occasional squawk of a radio. He knew he couldn’t stay in one place for long. Given the circumstances, it was inevitable that they would locate him, given enough time.

“Ah, finally!” He spotted an open hatch on a battered old freighter with a star with six sharp points painted on the side, worn down by the desert environment. With a silent prayer of thanks to whatever divine force governed the cosmos, he scrambled up the vessel’s steps and slipped inside.

The ship’s interior was dark and cramped, filled with the musty scent of disuse. Robert could feel the cold metal floor beneath him, slick with condensation and oily residue. Trying to suppress a shiver as he crept through the gloom of the derelict spacecraft, he grumbled: “Couldn’t have been a luxury cruiser or something.”

Voices echoed through the shipyard outside, growing louder and more insistent as the SLPS officers drew near. Robert’s heart pounded in his chest; each beat a frantic drumroll urging him to stay hidden and silent.

“Please don’t let them find me,” he begged, pressing himself against the ship’s wall. “I just need a little more time.”

The voices grew closer still, their tones sharp with urgency. Robert knew that they would soon begin searching for the ships themselves. He needed to find a better hiding spot and fast.

As the SLPS officers continued their search outside, drawing nearer to his hiding place, Robert hoped his desperate gamble would pay off. He whispered to himself to think while searching the dark interior of the vessel and then sat in the pilot’s seat, brainstorming potential options.

“Alright, Johnson, we’ll handle it from here,” a gruff voice reached Robert’s ears through the thin walls of his makeshift hiding spot. The SLPS officer sounded impatient and distracted as if he had bigger fish to fry. “Get back to the mining facility.”

“Roger that, sir,” came the somewhat disappointed answer.

Robert felt a flicker of hope. The search team was being pulled back, which meant he might have a chance to slip away unnoticed. He’d been running for what felt like hours, or at least an entire season of some terrible reality show, and his legs were starting to feel like overcooked noodles. Spaceport Express, all aboard the pain train!

“Okay, gotta stay cool,” he said, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “I’ve seen enough spy movies to know how this works.”

Robert’s experience with undercover operations was limited to binge-watching late-night holovids while eating questionable takeout food. In the real world, he needed to prepare for the stress of evading capture by trained law enforcement officers.

“Come on, Fannec,” he chided himself, trying to steady his nerves. “You can’t let them find you. Think, what would Bruce Jaymes do?”

The thought of the suave secret agent character only made Robert more conscious of how ill-suited he was for this kind of situation. Bruce Jaymes would never be caught crouching in the cockpit of an old derelict ship, sweaty and disheveled and trying not to hyperventilate.

“Great, now I’m feeling insecure about my ability to hide from the authorities. Never thought I’d see the day.”

Robert took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus. He needed to stay alert and listen for any sign that the SLPS officers were on his tail. If he could remain hidden long enough for them to give up and move on, he could make it to the spaceport and escape this whole mess.

“Whoever said ‘live every day like it’s your last’ clearly never spent an afternoon playing hide-and-seek with a bunch of trigger-happy cops,” he tried to inject some humor into his dire situation. The joke fell flat but gave him something else to consider besides his impending capture.

“Alright, time to channel my inner chameleon,” he adjusted his position to be as invisible as possible. “Just blend in, Fannec. Be the ship.”

Robert closed his eyes and tried to imagine himself melding with the cold metal beneath him, becoming one with the aged vessel. He couldn’t shake the ridiculous notion from his mind, but then again, he couldn’t believe that he had somehow ended up a fugitive.

Robert felt his hopes sink to the pit of his stomach at the thought of being captured. He imagined cold, steel bars enclosing him in a cramped cell with no hope of escape.

As if in answer, the faint footsteps echoed through the shipyard, drawing ever closer to Robert’s hiding spot. He tensed and prayed that his luck would hold out a little more, give him a bit more time.

The SLPS officers’ footsteps grew louder, their voices echoing across the shipyard as they fanned out, searching for their quarry. Robert’s pulse quickened, his breaths growing shallower and quicker with each passing moment.

Although he was scared, a wry smile formed at the edges of his lips at the thought of playing hide-and-seek again. “If I survive this, I’ll make it onto the Galactic Hide-and-Seek Championship roster.”

Robert peered around out a nearby window, glimpsing an officer approaching, her flashlight sweeping in a pattern through the fading daylight. Forcing himself to remain as still as a statue, he held his breath, hoping that the shadows would be enough to keep him hidden from view.

The officer moved on from the area. As he began to relax, he started to feel the adrenaline fade and exhaustion set in. A soft rustling noise drew his attention to the seat beside him. He leaped out of his chair, his eyes widening in terror as he realized he might not be alone.