Fugitive Novels & Stories

All I have to do is make it to the airport, and I will be free. I can finally get away from him. I can stop feeling the paralyzing fear that he’ll barter me to a creature who will finally go too far and kill me. I made sure not to leave any clue of where I was running to. I paid cash, changed my appearance and got a fake ID to use until I reach my destination. It’s going to be a long trip, to a foreign land, but I’m ready. I didn’t expect to go where I’m going when I took a chance and sent a piece of myself and proved what I’ve suspected all along. Something told me that this is the place that I have to go to. It was almost a compulsion that I couldn’t deny. “Es hora,” It’s time. I think.

I opened the door just a little. The frontman spoke first. “We’re looking for a dangerous fugitive,” he said. His voice was flat. Too flat. His badge rested on his jacket, but the font was wrong. The shine was wrong. It looked printed, not official. “What kind of fugitive?” I asked. “A violent one,” he said. “You may have seen him. He’s injured and he might seek medical help.” His eyes moved past me, and he tried to look inside. I blocked the doorway.

Sending our triad into the liminal spaces between worlds to chase a shadow felt like inviting catastrophe. But the image of that oily thread slipping in and out of our repairs wouldn’t leave my mind. If we let it stay there, gnawing… “It’ll keep testing seams,” I finished aloud. “Every time we overextend or argue or hesitate, it will tug. And eventually something will give.” “Exactly,” Selene said. “If we can’t drive it away, maybe we can pen it in. Force it into a shape that’s predictable.” Ronan frowned. “You want to… build a cage for something that eats discord?”

I used the thick, low-hanging hedges and dense undergrowth as cover, scrambling down the uneven terrain. The sound of my breathing and the crunch of dry earth beneath my feet were deafeningly loud, but within two minutes, I hit the bottom of the hill, a small, dark alleyway leading to a winding residential street. I was out. I was a fugitive. My personal phone and the secure satellite device were still locked up inside the house. I had no money, no ID, and no way to contact Benjamin. I had only the flash drive and the name: Maxim Kovacs.

"David Foster, former head of the FBI Portland field office and a former Pentagon soldier. He became a fugitive for committing acts of terrorism on the Portland State University and was involved in crimes committed by his father, Thomas Woods alias Matthew Patt—an international fugitive sniper for decades—and became an accomplice to Nicklaus Hunter, one of the global elites who killed a famous model and the wife of the Greenlake Group tycoon owner decades ago." Evan's head jerked back after reading the information. He looked at Nathan with furrowed brows. "Seems like he's a high-profile fugitive."

In fact, I had every right to know. “Are you a fugitive?” I asked him directly. “Did you commit a crime, and now you’re running from the law to avoid punishment? Because if you did, then you need to leave. I am not going to involve myself in aiding and abetting a criminal. Not when I am determined to get a fresh start at a new life here.” I watched the man pause before responding, no doubt trying to come up with the best answer, the most valid excuse to give. He swallowed before speaking, “I am not a fugitive,” he said in a not-so convincing manner, “at least, not in human terms.”

By law, I am also a fugitive. “Seriously?” He completely turned to me, surprised. “Doesn’t he hate you for, I don’t know, ruining his life?” “He does.” I shrugged. “It doesn’t stop me from loving him, though.” He eyes me meticulously. “Are you allowed to say that, Fallon? Are you forgetting he’s a fugitive, one of your government’s biggest enemies?” Another shrug. “I’m an enemy of my government now, too, if you’re forgetting. I ran away, remember? I’m a deserter.”

This was a tactic used for assassination, and the people they used were usually fugitives outside the borders. Whoever it was wanted Hunter killed! Nathan quickly took out his phone to call Gavin. “Help me find some men, Gavin. They’re people from Castia who have recently come to North City.” Gavin sounded a little bewildered over the phone. “These foreigners are usually fugitives, Mr. Langley. What would you want them for? They’re all murderers.” “They attacked a Langley.” Nathan’s cool reply sobered up Gavin immediately, and his tone became much more focused. “I’ll get it done, Mr. Langley. Don’t worry, I’ll send you news as f

Her eyes were sad and distant. "You are a very beautiful young woman. You are valuable. You were stolen. You are not a slave. You were stolen, your life was stolen from you, and now you are taking everything back. There is nothing wrong with you. As for the fugitive status, we are working on it, and if it means breaking the rules for your sake, I will do it. Liam isn't the only one with power here, Sophia. Alpha Christian will take your name off the fugitive list whether he likes it or not. Don't you ever refer to yourself with those words again. You do not strike me as weak. So do not start talking like one," I said, and she lo

"So I am not a f‍ugitive?" "You are a 'perso‌n of interest'⁠ who‍ is cooperat‍ing with‌ the investigat​i‍on," Giovanni cor‍r⁠ected. "Y⁠ou are⁠ free to‌ move.⁠ But St. Clair... he h‍as mov‌ed⁠ f⁠as⁠t⁠." "How‍ fast?"