Under Different Stars Read Online Free PDF Page A

a second later, Kyon strides menacingly toward Luther.
    Luther tightens his grip on the gun. “Blondie, you’re about to get capped. Stay where you are!” Luther stresses the last few words, but Kyon continues to cut the distance between them. Not thinking at all, instinct takes over when the loud report from the gun sends a burst of adrenaline through me. Running out the cargo doors, I look over my shoulder just in time to see Kyon stagger back from the bullet entering his shoulder. Pausing, my heart lurches painfully in my chest as Kyon reaches Luther, picking Luther up off his feet and throwing him back into Jimmy on the stairs.
    Seeing Forester and Lecto look in my direction, I don’t waste any more time, but run full out into the alleyway between the buildings. Running down the dark, snowy street, the sounds around me muffle. All I can hear is my heavy breathing. Entering the busy sidewalk, I cut through the crowd of people waiting to get into the club. I run like a butterfly, dodging between parked cars and traffic to get to the other side of the street. Glancing over my shoulder, Forester emerges from the alley, spotting me.
    I whimper before darting down the street and turning onto Clark when I come to the corner. Ducking into a head shop, I look wildly around for a place to hide amongst the racks of t-shirts and shelves of old vinyl records. The clerk doesn’t even look up from his comic book as he sits on the stool behind the counter.
    “There’s a back door—straight through, behind the black curtain,” he says in a bored, monotone voice.
    “Thanks,” I breathe. I find the back door leading to a parking lot. Sprinting to the next street, I go north toward Wrigleyville. Running flat out for about a mile, I have to revert to a fast walk as I pinch my side, trying to relieve the stitch in it while looking over my shoulder. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary behind me, I enter a diner that has a payphone. Pulling change and a wad of singles from my pocket, tips from my job tonight, I insert the change into the payphone before dialing Enrique’s cell.
    “Yeah?” Enrique answers.
    “Enrique? It’s Kricket. Listen, I need your help. I’m at Leo’s Diner in Wrigleyville. Can you meet me?” I ask, hearing the desperation in my own voice.
    “Yeah…okay. What’s the 411, Kricket? You sound like you’re trippin’,” he replies.
    “Just…can you hurry, Enrique? Please?” I plead, trying to remain calm.
    “Yeah, of course. This new club is filled with Abigails anyway…lame. Can I bring Michael?” he asks.
    “Yeah, just hurry,” I repeat, peering through the glass doors of the diner.
    “Okay. I’m on the way,” he says. Hanging up the receiver, I walk into the diner. Finding a seat near the back, away from the doors, I sink onto the bench seat, picking up the menu and hiding my face behind it. When the waitress comes over, I order a coffee.
    Glancing at my watch every few seconds, relief pours through me when Enrique and Michael push through the doors. When Enrique sees me, he grasps Michael’s hand as he leads him to my booth.
    “Two coffees,” Enrique says, holding up two fingers to the waitress before turning to me, “Girrrl, ‘sup with you?” Enrique asks, his eyebrow rising in question. “You got a braid on one side and your hair’s just hanging loose on the other side. I gotta say that I’m not loving this look—it’s very Cher meets high school cheerleader.” He’s dressed for the club; his dark eyeliner makes his brown eyes appear almost black.
    “And never the twain should meet, in my opinion,” Michael adds, sitting next to Enrique on the opposite side of the booth. He shrugs out of his Burberry coat, keeping his meticulously wrapped scarf in place. “Where’s your coat? It’s arctic out there. All we need are penguins and Nanook of the North.”
    “I know, right?” Enrique agrees, not letting me answer. “I should get one of those Russian fur hats, but faux fur,