Back to Fall 2025
Fugitive
Rhett Milner | Fiction, Fall 2025
The boys gathered in the dark and wondered when it would start. They stood like crows in the parking lot, donning black shirts, black pants and — if they managed to snag a pair — black shoes. The oldest scouts of the lock-in stood to the side, out of earshot. Fingers drabbed in midnight gloves counted every present head. Younger scouts, chittering about dashing over ditches and lawns, laughed and shuffled their feet.
The Eagle Scouts huddled together in secret discussion, and Jacob watched them. He was a Tenderfoot, having just graduated from Cub Scouts during the ceremony at Camp Augustine. Then, the Eagle Scouts had worn their formal Class A uniforms, shiny buttons and olive sashes. But here, dressed like panthers, they stood straighter, smiled wider. Jacob imagined being one of them, older, taller, and better at everything. He decided he’d be kind but strict, serious about passing along the scouting traditions that had once been passed to him.
Next to Jacob were his friends. Ethan balanced across a yellow parking stop, arms fluttering like moth wings. He was short with spiky hair and always wore a shark tooth necklace. Sitting on the ground, picking at grass, was Cooper. He wore glasses and had jumped at every loud laugh since they left the church.
“Everybody! Listen up!” said Alex, chiefest of the patrol leaders.
The mob turned to face him. He had freckles, hair like straw, and a deep voice that rattled when he shouted.
“If you don’t already know, here’s the rules to Fugitive.” Fugitive. At the word, the boys bristled and buzzed. Jacob recalled the stories of ghillie suits sprinting through baseball fields and teens hurdling hedges in the long hours after midnight.
“Runners have an hour to make it to Senior High’s parking lot. You get a partner and a ten minute headstart. If either of you get tagged, you both become Hunters. Hunters ride in cars, so if you’re picked now, find a driver!”
“And don’t run through yards,” someone shouted. “Or they’ll call the cops.”
“Or shoot you,” said another. The older boys chuckled. Jacob looked at his friends. Cooper might be scared, but he was also the fastest, and Jacob wanted every advantage. They fist-bumped to seal the deal. Ethan begrudgingly partnered with Isaac, a husky boy they didn’t know as well. The Hunters were selected and prowled to their cars, younger scouts cackling as they slid into backseats.
“What’s our plan?” Cooped hushed.
“Run really, really fast,” Jacob said. It sounded cool. He wished he said it louder.
“Then we’ll lose our breath and get caught.”
“Well, we could always climb trees,” said Jacob. He was very good at climbing trees. He had just climbed the oak in his backyard, higher than ever before. If his parents saw him, they’d have killed him. He told this to Cooper so he’d know how good he was at climbing.
The troop drifted to the northern end of the parking lot. The lanes and avenues surrounding them were animated by streetlamps and orange porch lights.
“Ten… Nine…” Alex counted down.
Jacob noticed two teenagers standing nearby. He and Cooper could follow their lead.
“Six…five…” The crowd tensed like a compressed spring ready to pop.
“One!”
They were off, a rush of feet and mad shouts swarming in different directions. They skipped off of curbs, surging past fire hydrants and white fences. Clumps of runners broke away at different intersections. Jacob stayed close to Cooper, keeping watch of the scrappy teens in front of them, vision blurry as lights zipped around him.
The group went several more blocks before stumbling into a slower pace. Their deep breathing filled the street. Gray branches, decorated with red and yellow leaves, spread out over brown and white houses. With Jacob and Cooper were Ethan, Isaac, and the teenagers, whose hair fell in front of their eyes as they talked under their heavy breath. Jacob saw his friends, wide-eyed but stern, and fought a sudden urge to giggle. This was a great adventure he was suddenly in. He thought of his classmates. Most were smarter, stronger, or funnier than he was, but they didn’t have adventures, not like this. They were asleep as he and his friends journeyed through their dim, swaying town.
Several blocks later, the teens announced the ten minutes had passed. Jacob looked at the empty streets behind him. The scouts that taught him knots and canoeing during summer camp were now hunting him. But, he had these teens to guide them. They must’ve played it several years by now. If Jacob and his friends listened, they could lead them to Senior High’s parking lot, right under the lights so the others could watch them win.
After another block, they came to the rough edge of a field. A highway overpass rose above the other side. The land was dark, but open and bare. If they got spotted here, there’d be nowhere to hide.
“Hey,” said one of the teens. “We’re going to sprint across. We’ll give the signal when it’s clear.”
Jacob and his friends nodded and clustered by a green transformer. The teens shared a look before sprinting away. Several minutes passed.
“Did they say what the signal would be?” asked Cooper.
“They totally left us!” Ethan said.
“Just wait,” said Jacob. “Maybe it isn’t clear.” They felt another minute drain away.
“This blows!” Ethan said, and that settled it. They ran across the space on their own. The chilly, wild wind rushed into their ears and blew back their hair. The highway, humming above them as they went underneath, opened them to new streets. They stopped, unsure of where exactly they were. Jacob hoped the teens would be crouching somewhere nearby, scolding them for running without the signal. For a while, no one said anything.
“We should stick to this road,” Cooper hushed. “I think it leads to the school.”
“No way,” said Ethan. “It’s too busy, they’ll probably be swarming it.”
They decided to move several blocks to the right before continuing down more discreet streets. Above them, long poles cast down white searchlight beams. Slow and creeping, they jogged in the shadows, listening for approaching engines and avoiding deadly light. The rumbling of advancing cars would scatter them into rosebushes or behind brick mailboxes, where they’d hold their breath until it moved on.
Wary at every sound and bright flash, Jacob found himself somewhere new. These were not the same streets from Summer, when the high sun beat down on banks and bowling alleys on their way to the pool. It was more like those nights in January, when snow swallowed everything in quiet white. He filled his lungs with cold air. His feet graced the pavement. The houses around him were inhabited by strange sleepers, soundless and still. There would always be runners and sleepers, he realized. He’d pick being a runner every time.
They rounded a corner and a car was upon them. Doors swung open and quick bodies closed the spaces between them. Someone squealed. Jacob spun and ducked under a whipping arm. He ran across the street to a nearby park, someone coming up fast behind him. He jumped a curb and scurried through a patch of brambles. Once through, he tripped and collapsed onto cold, dead grass. He picked himself up. There was fierce shouting beyond the thicket he had wormed through. He ran to a nearby playground surrounded by tall oaks.
Without hesitating, Jacob jumped onto a low branch and climbed into the leaves. His chest burned. He hooked his hands and swung upwards with a ferocity that surprised him. Even as he climbed, he wondered where it came from. It was like some latent part of him was now awake and burning with purpose. He stopped and hugged the trunk, gasping into his sleeve. Shadows darted beneath him on the street, a world away, he heard an engine running. He didn’t look, but buried his face into his shoulder. Any movement could draw them to him. The sharp edges of the bark pressed into his arms and legs. He heard their steps fading.
When the car finally puttered away, he slipped down the branches until he reached the ground. He was in the heart of the park, far from any light.
“Cooper? Cooper!” he called out, hushed.
He heard the pitchy rhythm of crickets, wind moving through leaves, and nothing else.
“Cooper… Ethan?”
The fever dropped from his limbs to his stomach. He was alone. His heart thumped. The park grew bigger around him and he thought of terrible things stalking him in the dark. He felt cracks splinter through him. He had to move, find somewhere safe. Really, he wanted to lay down and cry. He made small, unsure steps towards the edge of the park. Twigs snapped. Leaves rustled. His ears tensed and wouldn’t ease.
Eventually, he pushed through a tall hedge and saw an empty road as he peeked out. There was a bright street several blocks to his left, the one they agreed to avoid. Ahead of him was an unfamiliar neighborhood, a deep wall of ink with black yards and null, hidden houses. He’d be spotted going down the busy street on the left. But, he imagined being with the others, telling jokes in someone’s warm backseat. He could always try again.
He took a step and suddenly thought of the Eagle Scouts. Daring and adventurous, they wouldn’t stop here. They’d keep going until they reached the high school or Hunters ran them down. They were once Tenderfoots, just like Jacob. They must have been scared and alone at some point too, but they chose to be brave when they could have chickened out. That’s why they were Eagle Scouts. Jacob looked at the yawning gloom ahead. It was waiting for him. In the distant air, he heard the hollow melody of a train horn. It sounded like a secret God calling out to him, one he hadn’t thought to look for. He leaped across the street, into the dark.
Jacob pressed on into the black and gray roads going on forever, cold air slicing through him. The windows of parked cars, like murky water, held Jacob’s shimmering reflection as he ran past. His was an odd shape, melting and fading, but it was truly him. What had awakened in the park stared back at him with new eyes. Eyes. There were eyes everywhere. On the other side of all the reflections, he was being watched.
Ahead of him, at a stop sign, he saw a slim, quick figure.
“Cooper?” he called out.
The figure turned and scampered towards him. Jacob eased and smiled.
“Where did you go?” he asked.
“I went around the park,” Cooper said. “They all went in looking after you.”
“I climbed a tree,” Jacob said.
“Nice.”
“They couldn’t see me or anything.”
“That’s cool!” With that, they broke from the moment and ran ahead. They glided through twilight burroughs, ducking behind maple trunks and wintergreen shrubs at the sound of coming cars. They moved as one under the raven sky. The hiding spots and approaching threats were evident, they hardly had to speak. To their right, between the crouching roofs, a blue glow like strange fire spread itself along the clouds. Jacob knew these were the lights of the high school’s track fields. They were nearly there.
“Did Ethan and Isaac make it?” Cooper asked.
“I think they got caught in the park.”
“Do you think they’ll let us go if they see us?”
Jacob didn’t think so. Their friends were Hunters now. They passed several houses before the growing grumble of an engine forced them into a driveway. They hid in a small stairway for several minutes as yellow and blue lights swept over the yards. Jacob dared a look through iron railings and saw several Hunters hanging onto a large truck. They had bandanas, cut sleeves, and legs twice as long as his. Pebbles under the wheels snapped as they drove away. As the night returned to its usual slumber, the boys left their cover for the last time.
The street was silent save the rattle of dried leaves and soft thudding of shoes. They made a turn and saw the blue lights of the school beyond a tunnel of night. Jacob’s heart rose to his throat and they sprinted for it, arms pumping at their side. They sucked in the autumn air and puffed out steam. Their faces, beet-red, cracked into grins as the end of the dark den mushroomed to meet them. They were flying now, flying and leaving the land behind. Then it came, blasting their world with white light. An engine behind them gasped. There was no emotion in the boys, only a jolt, the sudden shock of prey before a predator. The light clung to their backs like spiderwebs. They didn’t look behind, only pushed forward as another car on their right sped to meet them.
It all happened in a moment. The two cars centered in with cruel, mechanical ease. Inside them were fresh legs ready to run them down, fresh legs on the gas rushing in. Jacob and Cooper heard the horrific screeching of brakes and terrified shouts as the vehicles narrowly missed each other. The boys’ unbroken attention, however, remained on the final street slipping under their feet. Car doors behind them frantically opened. From the sidewalk, they leapt over a green strip of lawn and landed on the asphalt of the parking lot.
They doubled over, seizing with joy and immediate cramping. Jacob managed to grab and shake Cooper.
“We did it! We did it!” he shouted. They caught their breaths and looked up to see the scouts ambling in a milieu, bored and waiting for something to happen. “Didn’t we make it?” Jacob asked.
Someone checked their watch. “Three minutes left,” he said.
No one else said anything. No one offered them any congratulations. Really, they looked a little annoyed. Jacob watched the groveling mass swell. More Hunters drove in and joined the crowd, ending their search early as the final minutes whittled away. Ethan approached them wearing a small frown.
“Did you get caught?” Cooper asked.
“Yeah, you guys left me!”
“We had to!” said Jacob, suddenly upset. “Can’t you be happy we won?”
“Jeez, I was only joking,” Ethan said.
Alex emerged from his truck, slamming his door shut.
“Game’s over!” he said. “Who won?”
Jacob and Cooper raised their hands. Older boys with lean limbs and patchy beards did too, but they were few. Some of their shoulders were patted, a few whistled. Alex gave a thumbs up. That was all.
“All right, all. Back to church!” The crowd grouped into cars. Jacob stayed where he was and Cooper had to tug his sleeve. Together, they found a ride with a Life Scout named Hudson, whose car smelled earthy and sweet.
Hudson drove fast, and Jacob watched as the houses and trees blinked by. Lit briefly by the headlights, they sparkled with bright blue and cemetery green before slipping away. They even passed the park Jacob was alone in. The lights flooded through it, banishing the dark that forced him to be brave, and the space became small and unimpressive. Every mysterious and new thing was revealed and unraveled in the quick, passing flow. The streets and avenues, each one a fight to cross, all melted into one big irrelevance.
The crowd returned to the church. The older boys held a midnight council while the rest indulged in happy chitchat. Jacob stayed to himself, staring at scattered litter sitting in ditches and hearing useless talk of trading cards and raunchy movies. During the game, his whole world consisted only of the space between the church and the school, and all its inhabitants were either the prowlers in steel traps or those skittish few in hidden corners, dreaming of a bright, blue dream of a place. Now, he was in the other world again, one wider and slower where things didn’t matter.
The troop played one more game before calling it a night. Jacob and his friends became Hunters, seeing few Runners and catching none. Back in the church, they slept heavy and deep like dogs after a great chase.
Morning came, and with it the buzz of breakfast. The burly scoutmasters had returned, well-rested and oblivious. The boys cut at their flapjacks with plastic cutlery and drank orange juice from styrofoam cups. Conversations floated about college football and watching the Saturday game. Jacob hardly said a word. Ethan and Cooper noticed the strange turn in their friend and figured he was still waking up.
Jacob’s mind, however, was still on the night before. He thought of the glimmering neighborhood lights, the black sky above him, and the constant terror making each second burn with unique identity. He remembered winning, landing with both feet in the parking lot, feeling the immediate turn of being stalked and chased to suddenly free. It was like surviving a horrible nightmare and seeing the pink, fuzzy sunrise from a bedroom window. Breakfast wrapped up, and the scouts readied themselves for home, but Jacob lingered in that other world of light and dark, chase and hide, joy and risk, and wondered when he’d return.
______________________________________
Why is this piece your Trace Fossil?
“I'm the product of late-night runs through neighborhoods and dares given by older boys. Pulling details from the pool of memory, there is a trace fossil of me in perhaps every other line. In other ways, this piece is my apology as a writer. There are these rare, unexpected moments when the gray curtain of everyday trouble is pulled away, and when the silver dross of shallow expectations burns up. And then, for only a few glorious seconds, we get the true look of life and what really matters before it goes as quickly as it came. It fills us with such a yearnful hope we're driven to odd things, like writing about it or trying to get it back. It leaves us feeling like a stranger to the rest of the world. For me, this has made all the difference.”
Rhett Milner is a Disability Benefits Specialist at Community Alliance in Omaha, Nebraska. His work has appeared in The Headlight Review, October Hill, and Sagebrush Review. He is a BFA Graduate from the Writers’ Workshop at the University of Nebraska at Omaha and is currently seeking admission into graduate programs.
Back to Fall 2025
Fugitive
Rhett Milner | Fiction, Fall 2025
The boys gathered in the dark and wondered when it would start. They stood like crows in the parking lot, donning black shirts, black pants and — if they managed to snag a pair — black shoes. The oldest scouts of the lock-in stood to the side, out of earshot. Fingers drabbed in midnight gloves counted every present head. Younger scouts, chittering about dashing over ditches and lawns, laughed and shuffled their feet.
The Eagle Scouts huddled together in secret discussion, and Jacob watched them. He was a Tenderfoot, having just graduated from Cub Scouts during the ceremony at Camp Augustine. Then, the Eagle Scouts had worn their formal Class A uniforms, shiny buttons and olive sashes. But here, dressed like panthers, they stood straighter, smiled wider. Jacob imagined being one of them, older, taller, and better at everything. He decided he’d be kind but strict, serious about passing along the scouting traditions that had once been passed to him.
Next to Jacob were his friends. Ethan balanced across a yellow parking stop, arms fluttering like moth wings. He was short with spiky hair and always wore a shark tooth necklace. Sitting on the ground, picking at grass, was Cooper. He wore glasses and had jumped at every loud laugh since they left the church.
“Everybody! Listen up!” said Alex, chiefest of the patrol leaders.
The mob turned to face him. He had freckles, hair like straw, and a deep voice that rattled when he shouted.
“If you don’t already know, here’s the rules to Fugitive.” Fugitive. At the word, the boys bristled and buzzed. Jacob recalled the stories of ghillie suits sprinting through baseball fields and teens hurdling hedges in the long hours after midnight.
“Runners have an hour to make it to Senior High’s parking lot. You get a partner and a ten minute headstart. If either of you get tagged, you both become Hunters. Hunters ride in cars, so if you’re picked now, find a driver!”
“And don’t run through yards,” someone shouted. “Or they’ll call the cops.”
“Or shoot you,” said another. The older boys chuckled. Jacob looked at his friends. Cooper might be scared, but he was also the fastest, and Jacob wanted every advantage. They fist-bumped to seal the deal. Ethan begrudgingly partnered with Isaac, a husky boy they didn’t know as well. The Hunters were selected and prowled to their cars, younger scouts cackling as they slid into backseats.
“What’s our plan?” Cooped hushed.
“Run really, really fast,” Jacob said. It sounded cool. He wished he said it louder.
“Then we’ll lose our breath and get caught.”
“Well, we could always climb trees,” said Jacob. He was very good at climbing trees. He had just climbed the oak in his backyard, higher than ever before. If his parents saw him, they’d have killed him. He told this to Cooper so he’d know how good he was at climbing.
The troop drifted to the northern end of the parking lot. The lanes and avenues surrounding them were animated by streetlamps and orange porch lights.
“Ten… Nine…” Alex counted down.
Jacob noticed two teenagers standing nearby. He and Cooper could follow their lead.
“Six…five…” The crowd tensed like a compressed spring ready to pop.
“One!”
They were off, a rush of feet and mad shouts swarming in different directions. They skipped off of curbs, surging past fire hydrants and white fences. Clumps of runners broke away at different intersections. Jacob stayed close to Cooper, keeping watch of the scrappy teens in front of them, vision blurry as lights zipped around him.
The group went several more blocks before stumbling into a slower pace. Their deep breathing filled the street. Gray branches, decorated with red and yellow leaves, spread out over brown and white houses. With Jacob and Cooper were Ethan, Isaac, and the teenagers, whose hair fell in front of their eyes as they talked under their heavy breath. Jacob saw his friends, wide-eyed but stern, and fought a sudden urge to giggle. This was a great adventure he was suddenly in. He thought of his classmates. Most were smarter, stronger, or funnier than he was, but they didn’t have adventures, not like this. They were asleep as he and his friends journeyed through their dim, swaying town.
Several blocks later, the teens announced the ten minutes had passed. Jacob looked at the empty streets behind him. The scouts that taught him knots and canoeing during summer camp were now hunting him. But, he had these teens to guide them. They must’ve played it several years by now. If Jacob and his friends listened, they could lead them to Senior High’s parking lot, right under the lights so the others could watch them win.
After another block, they came to the rough edge of a field. A highway overpass rose above the other side. The land was dark, but open and bare. If they got spotted here, there’d be nowhere to hide.
“Hey,” said one of the teens. “We’re going to sprint across. We’ll give the signal when it’s clear.”
Jacob and his friends nodded and clustered by a green transformer. The teens shared a look before sprinting away. Several minutes passed.
“Did they say what the signal would be?” asked Cooper.
“They totally left us!” Ethan said.
“Just wait,” said Jacob. “Maybe it isn’t clear.” They felt another minute drain away.
“This blows!” Ethan said, and that settled it. They ran across the space on their own. The chilly, wild wind rushed into their ears and blew back their hair. The highway, humming above them as they went underneath, opened them to new streets. They stopped, unsure of where exactly they were. Jacob hoped the teens would be crouching somewhere nearby, scolding them for running without the signal. For a while, no one said anything.
“We should stick to this road,” Cooper hushed. “I think it leads to the school.”
“No way,” said Ethan. “It’s too busy, they’ll probably be swarming it.”
They decided to move several blocks to the right before continuing down more discreet streets. Above them, long poles cast down white searchlight beams. Slow and creeping, they jogged in the shadows, listening for approaching engines and avoiding deadly light. The rumbling of advancing cars would scatter them into rosebushes or behind brick mailboxes, where they’d hold their breath until it moved on.
Wary at every sound and bright flash, Jacob found himself somewhere new. These were not the same streets from Summer, when the high sun beat down on banks and bowling alleys on their way to the pool. It was more like those nights in January, when snow swallowed everything in quiet white. He filled his lungs with cold air. His feet graced the pavement. The houses around him were inhabited by strange sleepers, soundless and still. There would always be runners and sleepers, he realized. He’d pick being a runner every time.
They rounded a corner and a car was upon them. Doors swung open and quick bodies closed the spaces between them. Someone squealed. Jacob spun and ducked under a whipping arm. He ran across the street to a nearby park, someone coming up fast behind him. He jumped a curb and scurried through a patch of brambles. Once through, he tripped and collapsed onto cold, dead grass. He picked himself up. There was fierce shouting beyond the thicket he had wormed through. He ran to a nearby playground surrounded by tall oaks.
Without hesitating, Jacob jumped onto a low branch and climbed into the leaves. His chest burned. He hooked his hands and swung upwards with a ferocity that surprised him. Even as he climbed, he wondered where it came from. It was like some latent part of him was now awake and burning with purpose. He stopped and hugged the trunk, gasping into his sleeve. Shadows darted beneath him on the street, a world away, he heard an engine running. He didn’t look, but buried his face into his shoulder. Any movement could draw them to him. The sharp edges of the bark pressed into his arms and legs. He heard their steps fading.
When the car finally puttered away, he slipped down the branches until he reached the ground. He was in the heart of the park, far from any light.
“Cooper? Cooper!” he called out, hushed.
He heard the pitchy rhythm of crickets, wind moving through leaves, and nothing else.
“Cooper… Ethan?”
The fever dropped from his limbs to his stomach. He was alone. His heart thumped. The park grew bigger around him and he thought of terrible things stalking him in the dark. He felt cracks splinter through him. He had to move, find somewhere safe. Really, he wanted to lay down and cry. He made small, unsure steps towards the edge of the park. Twigs snapped. Leaves rustled. His ears tensed and wouldn’t ease.
Eventually, he pushed through a tall hedge and saw an empty road as he peeked out. There was a bright street several blocks to his left, the one they agreed to avoid. Ahead of him was an unfamiliar neighborhood, a deep wall of ink with black yards and null, hidden houses. He’d be spotted going down the busy street on the left. But, he imagined being with the others, telling jokes in someone’s warm backseat. He could always try again.
He took a step and suddenly thought of the Eagle Scouts. Daring and adventurous, they wouldn’t stop here. They’d keep going until they reached the high school or Hunters ran them down. They were once Tenderfoots, just like Jacob. They must have been scared and alone at some point too, but they chose to be brave when they could have chickened out. That’s why they were Eagle Scouts. Jacob looked at the yawning gloom ahead. It was waiting for him. In the distant air, he heard the hollow melody of a train horn. It sounded like a secret God calling out to him, one he hadn’t thought to look for. He leaped across the street, into the dark.
Jacob pressed on into the black and gray roads going on forever, cold air slicing through him. The windows of parked cars, like murky water, held Jacob’s shimmering reflection as he ran past. His was an odd shape, melting and fading, but it was truly him. What had awakened in the park stared back at him with new eyes. Eyes. There were eyes everywhere. On the other side of all the reflections, he was being watched.
Ahead of him, at a stop sign, he saw a slim, quick figure.
“Cooper?” he called out.
The figure turned and scampered towards him. Jacob eased and smiled.
“Where did you go?” he asked.
“I went around the park,” Cooper said. “They all went in looking after you.”
“I climbed a tree,” Jacob said.
“Nice.”
“They couldn’t see me or anything.”
“That’s cool!” With that, they broke from the moment and ran ahead. They glided through twilight burroughs, ducking behind maple trunks and wintergreen shrubs at the sound of coming cars. They moved as one under the raven sky. The hiding spots and approaching threats were evident, they hardly had to speak. To their right, between the crouching roofs, a blue glow like strange fire spread itself along the clouds. Jacob knew these were the lights of the high school’s track fields. They were nearly there.
“Did Ethan and Isaac make it?” Cooper asked.
“I think they got caught in the park.”
“Do you think they’ll let us go if they see us?”
Jacob didn’t think so. Their friends were Hunters now. They passed several houses before the growing grumble of an engine forced them into a driveway. They hid in a small stairway for several minutes as yellow and blue lights swept over the yards. Jacob dared a look through iron railings and saw several Hunters hanging onto a large truck. They had bandanas, cut sleeves, and legs twice as long as his. Pebbles under the wheels snapped as they drove away. As the night returned to its usual slumber, the boys left their cover for the last time.
The street was silent save the rattle of dried leaves and soft thudding of shoes. They made a turn and saw the blue lights of the school beyond a tunnel of night. Jacob’s heart rose to his throat and they sprinted for it, arms pumping at their side. They sucked in the autumn air and puffed out steam. Their faces, beet-red, cracked into grins as the end of the dark den mushroomed to meet them. They were flying now, flying and leaving the land behind. Then it came, blasting their world with white light. An engine behind them gasped. There was no emotion in the boys, only a jolt, the sudden shock of prey before a predator. The light clung to their backs like spiderwebs. They didn’t look behind, only pushed forward as another car on their right sped to meet them.
It all happened in a moment. The two cars centered in with cruel, mechanical ease. Inside them were fresh legs ready to run them down, fresh legs on the gas rushing in. Jacob and Cooper heard the horrific screeching of brakes and terrified shouts as the vehicles narrowly missed each other. The boys’ unbroken attention, however, remained on the final street slipping under their feet. Car doors behind them frantically opened. From the sidewalk, they leapt over a green strip of lawn and landed on the asphalt of the parking lot.
They doubled over, seizing with joy and immediate cramping. Jacob managed to grab and shake Cooper.
“We did it! We did it!” he shouted. They caught their breaths and looked up to see the scouts ambling in a milieu, bored and waiting for something to happen. “Didn’t we make it?” Jacob asked.
Someone checked their watch. “Three minutes left,” he said.
No one else said anything. No one offered them any congratulations. Really, they looked a little annoyed. Jacob watched the groveling mass swell. More Hunters drove in and joined the crowd, ending their search early as the final minutes whittled away. Ethan approached them wearing a small frown.
“Did you get caught?” Cooper asked.
“Yeah, you guys left me!”
“We had to!” said Jacob, suddenly upset. “Can’t you be happy we won?”
“Jeez, I was only joking,” Ethan said.
Alex emerged from his truck, slamming his door shut.
“Game’s over!” he said. “Who won?”
Jacob and Cooper raised their hands. Older boys with lean limbs and patchy beards did too, but they were few. Some of their shoulders were patted, a few whistled. Alex gave a thumbs up. That was all.
“All right, all. Back to church!” The crowd grouped into cars. Jacob stayed where he was and Cooper had to tug his sleeve. Together, they found a ride with a Life Scout named Hudson, whose car smelled earthy and sweet.
Hudson drove fast, and Jacob watched as the houses and trees blinked by. Lit briefly by the headlights, they sparkled with bright blue and cemetery green before slipping away. They even passed the park Jacob was alone in. The lights flooded through it, banishing the dark that forced him to be brave, and the space became small and unimpressive. Every mysterious and new thing was revealed and unraveled in the quick, passing flow. The streets and avenues, each one a fight to cross, all melted into one big irrelevance.
The crowd returned to the church. The older boys held a midnight council while the rest indulged in happy chitchat. Jacob stayed to himself, staring at scattered litter sitting in ditches and hearing useless talk of trading cards and raunchy movies. During the game, his whole world consisted only of the space between the church and the school, and all its inhabitants were either the prowlers in steel traps or those skittish few in hidden corners, dreaming of a bright, blue dream of a place. Now, he was in the other world again, one wider and slower where things didn’t matter.
The troop played one more game before calling it a night. Jacob and his friends became Hunters, seeing few Runners and catching none. Back in the church, they slept heavy and deep like dogs after a great chase.
Morning came, and with it the buzz of breakfast. The burly scoutmasters had returned, well-rested and oblivious. The boys cut at their flapjacks with plastic cutlery and drank orange juice from styrofoam cups. Conversations floated about college football and watching the Saturday game. Jacob hardly said a word. Ethan and Cooper noticed the strange turn in their friend and figured he was still waking up.
Jacob’s mind, however, was still on the night before. He thought of the glimmering neighborhood lights, the black sky above him, and the constant terror making each second burn with unique identity. He remembered winning, landing with both feet in the parking lot, feeling the immediate turn of being stalked and chased to suddenly free. It was like surviving a horrible nightmare and seeing the pink, fuzzy sunrise from a bedroom window. Breakfast wrapped up, and the scouts readied themselves for home, but Jacob lingered in that other world of light and dark, chase and hide, joy and risk, and wondered when he’d return.
______________________________________
Why is this piece your Trace Fossil?
“I'm the product of late-night runs through neighborhoods and dares given by older boys. Pulling details from the pool of memory, there is a trace fossil of me in perhaps every other line. In other ways, this piece is my apology as a writer. There are these rare, unexpected moments when the gray curtain of everyday trouble is pulled away, and when the silver dross of shallow expectations burns up. And then, for only a few glorious seconds, we get the true look of life and what really matters before it goes as quickly as it came. It fills us with such a yearnful hope we're driven to odd things, like writing about it or trying to get it back. It leaves us feeling like a stranger to the rest of the world. For me, this has made all the difference.”
Rhett Milner is a Disability Benefits Specialist at Community Alliance in Omaha, Nebraska. His work has appeared in The Headlight Review, October Hill, and Sagebrush Review. He is a BFA Graduate from the Writers’ Workshop at the University of Nebraska at Omaha and is currently seeking admission into graduate programs.