The road brimmed with cars, whizzing one after another. Honks blasted through the late afternoon air. Footsteps hit the pavement as people walked in throngs on the pedestrian street, their chatter reaching the sky.

Milan bowed his head. He placed his hand above his eyebrows like a shield, as he scurried through the crowd. He couldn’t afford to be recognized. Their blue prison uniforms were bad enough.

“You know, you look more suspicious that way,” Eli said.

Milan stopped dead in his tracks. “You’re right. We do look suspicious. And we need to do something about it.” He pointed to a clothing store across the street.

Eli grinned.

The door parted open, and they entered the shop. Music blasted in Milan’s ears. Clothes hung on every row, as far as the eye could see. Milan coughed. Someone wore too much perfume, and it wasn’t him. And it most definitely wasn’t Eli.

“Welcome!” A woman in a beige coat approached them. “Are you looking for something in particular?”

Milan dropped his head, scratching it. He tried to look as casual as he could. “No, we’re just looking.”

“You’re wearing matching outfits,” she said with a smile plastered on her face and light gleamed in her eyes. “How cute! We’ve just received so many matching outfits in our store-”

“Thanks,” Eli said. “We’re dressed up as prisoners for Halloween.”

The shop assistant glanced sideways. “Uh, I… see.”

Milan groaned internally. They were in late Spring. Where did Eli get Halloween from? She had to open her mouth, didn’t she?

“Excuse us.” Milan yanked her away from the assistant, down to a clothing rack.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“I have a plan. We split up and find clothes to wear. Clothes that do not match. We put them on in a dressing room and put this uniform we’re wearing on top of it. Then, we get the hell out of here before someone messes everything up.” Milan poked Eli’s forehead. “And where’s your cap?”

Eli shrugged. “Probably left it behind when we ran from the cops.”

“Great. You need one that fits you, anyway. I do, too. We don’t want to be recognized.”

Eli pointed her thump up. Then, they went in their respective directions.

Milan dug through the clothes. The hangers screeched against the rack as he shoved the clothes to the side, one after another. He needed something simple, something that wouldn’t stand out.

He pulled out a white shirt and a pair of slim-fit pants and found a black, peaked cap lined on a shelf.

He didn’t look much different from before when he came out of the dressing room. Maybe a bit. He crossed his arms across his stomach. He had hidden the cap under his uniform shirt.

Where was Eli? Was she fooling around again? Milan tapped his foot against the floor. What was the point of asking questions he already knew the answer to?

Eli sprang out of the other dressing room. She pointed to the rainbow jester hat on the head, the four spikes peaking down like a hand of bananas.

Milan snatched the hat and threw it away. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said through his teeth. “We’re runaways, dammit. We already look suspicious enough. Just take a normal baseball cap, and let’s get out of here.”

But it wasn’t until later Milan realized he never should’ve said that. Not until they rushed out the door, and the alarm boomed in the shop.

Eli put on her new cap.

“Wait, isn’t that…” Milan’s eyes widened. “You took a designer cap?!”

“Yup,” she said and waved a fifty-dollar bill between her fingers. “I took this too. From one of ‘em customers.”

Milan’s mouth stood open. He had so much to say, but the words were stuck. But even if they weren’t, he wouldn’t have the time to tell them.

“Stop right there!” a voice roared inside the shop.

A man in a guard uniform and at least seven feet tall jogged toward them. His bald head glinted like an egg in the light.

Milan’s eyes drifted back to Eli. Or where she had once stood. She was gone, replaced by the wind.

Milan’s shoes bit into the gravel. Damn you, Eli. Damn you. Those were his thoughts as he sprinted through the pedestrian walkway, shouldering past the crowd.