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On the Run

A Short Story

By TestPublished 2 months ago 3 min read
On the Run
Photo by Saad Chaudhry on Unsplash

Jean Pearson turned around a corner as the wheels of the Mercedes squealed. The streets of Paris were damp from the rain, but he was on the run.

The police officer followed him quickly.

I've got to lose him. I've got to lose him.

He went around the next corner quickly, dodging him.

The officer behind the wheel lost him as he sped up onto a freeway, camouflaging himself with other vehicles and driving so fast he risked killing himself: 100 km/h.

Shit. Shit. I have just killed a man.


The previous evening


Jazz played in the background as Jean Pearson drank a gin and tonic.

The club was filled with gentleman of high accord dressed in pressed black suits over white shirts, complemented by matching ties, shoes polished to the nines.

Ladies in cocktail dresses sat next to them, drinking fine varieties of wines.

The furniture was basic but elegant: wooden chairs and stools filled the place, and the walls were crafted from brick.

A woman with shoulder-length black hair shining underneath the lights and a flattering red dress walked up to him with a man dangling drunkenly from her arm.

"Hello," she reached out a hand loosely, "My name is Isabel." She looked star struck at the sight of Jean but, then again, the woman would have been starstruck by nearly anything or anyone: Jean had been watching her, and this was her fifth glass of champagne.

"And this," she pointed at the man, "is my husband Alain. We're Isabel and Alain Mercer."

She held out a finger with an absurdly large diamond ring plastered to it proudly.

"Come. Come with us. We'd love to have you over for dinner."

Jean Pearson checked his watch.

"I've got to get home to the misses, but I'm sure an hour or so wouldn't hurt. She's working late tonight anyhow."

"Good. Good."

They entered a very nice red car and Alain drove them to his apartment home.

"Isabel doesn't work. She's my housewife," he teased.

"Yes. Yes. I love it. He buys me fancy things to keep him company," she chortled through her lighthearted reply.

By Leilani Angel on Unsplash

They parked at the apartment.

The two merrily exited the vehicle.

It's a wonder they got us here alive.

Jean Pearson thought to himself.

Isabel prepared a quiche with mushrooms and spinach. She then plated the food and provided each guest with the meal.


"Thank you in French," Alain said, "Americans always come here without knowing the language," he scoffed, forgetting himself.

Jean took a bite, "Absolutely delicious, Miss."

"She's absolutely delicious, isn't she?"

"Oh stop it, Alain!"

Isabel was blushing heavily.

During the course of the meal, Alain's fists bulged along with his Adam's apple as he continued speaking, "These Americans are always taking advantage of us! I cannot believe it! Then they have the nerve to make fun of our language. Unbelievable! Absolute shits, these Americans."

His eyes became beady as he looked aggressively at Jean.

Jean put his hands up in surrender.

"Don't look at me. It's the country, man. The government. We Americans hate the government as much as anybody else. They're shits. They really are. Bastards."

Alain chortled, "That quick to turn on your own, are you? Good to know. Did you know my grandfather was killed by a group of Americans? Now. I want my revenge."

He put his bare hands around Jean's throat and squeezed.

"Stop, stop it, Alain, STOP!" Isabel screamed.

Jean choked Alain back, and he was stronger, and faster, so the man died. He shot the guy in the chest for good measure.

"I'm sorry, Isabel. I am. Self-defense really," He muttered as he exited.




Now, Jean was on the run from the cops. He knew he'd be in the slammer for not cooperating with the authorities.

He also knew he wasn't supposed to have a gun, and he wasn't supposed to shoot a dead man unnecessarily. Bad form.


Jean was able to escape from the cops for years until, finally, a particularly coy officer caught him.

"Jean Pearson. You are under arrest for refusing to cooperate with this investigation, and for using undue force during the murder of Alain Mercer."


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