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Their footsteps thudded on the sidewalk pavement with surprising speed. Under different circumstances, they would have marveled at the lack of rhythm. Their footfalls were so frequent that the noise was almost constant. Their panting, however, was in perfect unison. Air rushed into ten lungs and quickly rushed back out. Inhale, step, exhale. Inhale, step, step, exhale. Inhale, step, step, step, exhale. Until one pair of lungs forced a respite.
Carl slowed to a near stop. With his hands on his narrow hips, he heaved air into his lungs. He held his eyes tightly shut for several seconds, walking on with stumbling steps. “Why did we… go to the forum… tonight?”
Up ahead, Rachel turned around. She ran back toward him. She was barely out of breath. Her years of cross country running served her well.
That bitch, Carl thought. She could run around the world carrying her luggage and be just fine. He didn’t think to blame his slower pace on the four corn dogs he’d eaten earlier.
“We all decided it was most expedient to go when they were all together. Who knew it tonight was feeding night?”
“This is no time for perambulating!” Pamela screamed as she caught up to them and yanked on Carl’s arm. “Come on!”
Carl took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and made to take another step. But his right shoe was encumbered by a huge wad of still-moist gum. Shit! he thought in a panic. I’m gonna die because of some asshole’s gum. He yanked his leg upward and stepped out of the reach of the long fingers of an unnaturally tall woman with white-blonde hair.
Brick in hand, Rachel swung a roundhouse and banged the brick down onto the woman’s head. She brought it back up for another swing, but the woman went rigid and fell stiff into the gutter. The thick titanium chain around her neck made a loud clank against the pavement.
The sight of the blood and matted hair stuck to the weapon made Carl’s stomach turn.
“Damn, Rachel. You’re like, the Slayer of our group.” Antoine said between breaths.
“Thanks. I think.”
“What does that make me,” Carl whined, “the Xander?”
“The Xander. That sounds kinda cool.” Rachel said.
“I’m pretty sure he doesn’t think it’s a compliment.” Pamela said.
“It’s better than being the Fred of our Scooby Gang.” Serena said as she approached.