Hiding Fugitive

When I was younger, say 19 or 20, I played an awesome game of hide and seek with friends. We called it "Fugitive" and our playing grounds were the yards and streets of our city at night. Two searchers would stay in a car, while the rest of us ran for cover. We'd be given coordinates, how far we could actually go in a given street grid, and then it was every man for himself.

Hiding places included bushes, trees, the walls of fences. We'd keep an eye on the searchers, who drove about with a flashlight. If they yelled, "Caught you" then your position was compromised and you had to join the searchers. Of course, if you were a hider first, the whereabouts of team members was known to you. Would you become one of the searchers or hope the hiders made it to the designated safe zone?

The best part of this game was the absolute feeling of being followed. The sheer adrenaline of staying one step ahead. Climbing a tree quick like a monkey or darting behind a wall just before the flashlight beam hit your retreating sneakers. My biggest downfall was my very pale skin, quite visible in the dark, but I made up for it with my long hair, practically black. Hidden in a copse of trees, I would crouch with my head tilted down, my sheet of hair covering my face, completely quiet and unmoving. The searchers vehicle would turn the corner, and I was off like a shot, closer to the safe point, but out in the open. I stuck to trees and bushes, mainly; ran when I could and hid when I needed to.

I've just come over with a ridiculous desire to play that game just now. Ah, the joys of youth.