• Chapter 1
    The Mysterious Man

    A low voice creeped out of the alleyway. My spine tingled and I backed up to a near by building. The city of San Diego was full of life. The cars raced on the busy streets with exitment.

    The Brick wall was cold on my back, and the wind blew soft gusts of warm air onto my smooth face. My long blonde hair flowed in the breeze, as I listened to the mans low voice talk on the phone.

    A small echoing "click" raced out of the alleyway signaling that the phone had been shut. My feet flattened against the pavment. Just then, I heard the man's low raspy voice, this time, it wasn't on the phone.

    "Hello there." The man said quietly.

    "Hello..." I whispered back in fright.

    "Do you want to die tonight?" The man's frightful voice rang in my ears as my heart raced.

    "Me?" I said fantly.

    After this remark, the city became so quiet, I couldn't hear the cars honking their horns, or people having conversations at the nearby diners. All that I could hear was the man tapping his foot and his slow steady breathing.

    My breath deepened when I got enough courage to step off the wall and stand there for a moment thinking.

    I turned and looked around the corner to see a tall man in a black jumpsuit, with a dark baseball cap, and sunglasses. In front of the tall man was a tattered lawn chair with what looked to be a person sitting in it.

    My stomach started to churn when I saw the boy in the chair. Duct Tape covered his mouth and strapped his arms and legs down to the chair. His torso was covered in ropes that were tied to the back of the lawn chair.

    "Well do you!" The man in black shouted.

    The boy in the chair started to cry, an attempt to scream for help was muffled by the layers of Duct Tape. The man just kicked the chair and laughed.

    A small salty tear rolled down my face as I watched the boy, asking myself to look away. The boy looked to be about 14 or 15 years old.

    The man in black reached into the pocket of his jumpsuit and pulled out a small gun. My heart raced in horror.

    He pointed the gun slowly between the boys eyes, "Well too bad."

    I was frightened and my heart beat to the point where it was getting harder to think, the only things I could think of were being in that boys place.

    "Stop!" Tears began streaming down my face. All of the city noises came back.

    The boy in the chair had a few moments to spare and he tried to shake loose.

    The man in the black jumpsuit looked at me in shock. "How dare you interupt!"

    The man lowered the gun from the boy and pointed it at me. Just then my heart felt like it stoped beating.

    I heard a muffled gunshot. My mind tried not to think of being shot. i woke up to the sound of cars honking their way by. I opened my eyes to find a small stream of blood going through the bottom of my shirt and onto the ground.

    i slowly picked myself up noticing the man was nowhere to be found. I shuttered in pain as I saw the bottom of my stomach had a small bullet lodged in its side.

    I placed my hand over the hole, and tried my hardest to get up. I looked up and saw the ropes had been cut, and the Duct Tape was laying in the seat of the tattered chair.

    I heard a noise behind me so I turned around and saw the ripped jeans of the 15 year old boy.



    Chapter 2
    New Friends, New journeys

    When I got up, I got a better look at him. He had brownish black hair, and brown eyes.

    Looking down at the bullet, he reached in his pocket and pulled out a pocket knife.

    "This may hurt alittle." He said, placing his warm fingers on my stomach.

    When the bullet came out he placed it in his pocket with the knife. When the bleeding stopped, we went to the police station. We told them everything, I even showed him my wound. I got very frustrated, because the cop sent us away, he also gave us a warning for lying to someone who works under the law.

    When we arrived near my house I started to panic. There were police cars, fire trucks, and ambulances in our driveway.

    At the moment I forgot about my stomach and started running towards my home. My only relatives were my mother and father.

    There was yellow Crime Scene tape everywhere. I looked into the door and saw blood all over the couch and the walls.

    The bullet hole started to hurt again. I saw two body bags come out the door on stretchers. I fell to my knees and cryed.

    The boy came over to me and told me not to cry.

    "It was him wasn't it?" I said with hatred in my voice.

    "I think so..." he answered.

    "I just don't know why they, I mean he, is doing this."

    "Well for one, it is a 'they' and two, they are from a special organization." He continued. "They are kind of like hitmen."

    "So they are like a mixture of both?" I choked.

    "I believe so." The boy said with a serious look on his face.

    I was stumped. "Well how are we supposed to stop a mixture of a hitman and a murderur?"

    "You ask too many questions. Lets go to my house now."

    The boy grabbed my hand and we began to run to his house. Down a long city road then to an abandoned path. There were no houses along the small path, at the end of the path we came upon a small cabin with a lovely deck and chairs on the front porch.

    "How many people live in this house?" I asked the boy curiously.

    The boy put his head down. "O...Only one..."

    I stopped asking questions. When we walked to the door of the small cabin, he opened it to reveal a small living area. In this area there was a couch, a love seat, a small end-table on the other side of the couch, and pictures of the woods on the walls all around the room.

    I got a short tour of the cabin seeing the kitchen, the bathroom, and his room. Then I sat on the couch in the living room while he went back to his bedroom.

    He came out of his room and dropped some nice neat folded clothes next to me on the couch.

    "Those are recently washed clothes if you would like to get cleaned up."

    I got finished taking a shower and I walked slowly back out to the living room. I saw the small couch folded out to make a bed.

    "The bleeding wont stop..." I lifted up part of the shirt to my hand pressed against my old bloody shirt crumpled up and pressing on the wound.

    I layed down on the bed. I started to tremble when he set a cold cotton swab on the bleeding wound. Rags were set on my stomach to stop the horrific bleeding.