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Summery: Something fishy is going down in the States; hounds have been appearing left, right and centre-but something is seriously wrong with them. A Government agency is on my tail and they'll do anything to stop me finding out their secret; they'll track me across the Country, torture my friends and even threaten my family. This means war.
Dead end. Shit.
“We have you now!” One of the Americans chasing me calls out from the front of the alleyway; there are four of them, all wearing black suits and shades. I desperately look for a way out and spot the ladder of the fire escape.
“You sure? Better grab me just in case.” I tease and they all come charging forward; I use one of them as a step and grab the rung of the ladder. It takes second for me to reach the top and I bolt it up the stairs to the roof. Now how do I get down?
“Hurry up!” One of them calls. They’re already making their way up-that was quick. I rush back to the fire escape and kick back the first guy that appears, he falls over the railing and his buddies stop to watch him hit the ground. Ouch. My legs spring back into action and I sprint to the other end of the roof, there’s nowhere to go but down; my aim is perfect and I land in a dumpster with ease-hitting the lid so it would close after me. Don’t get me wrong, it stinks, but I’d rather be in the dumpster than out there with them.
Don’t breathe…I mentally gag. Not even through your mouth.
I’m in there for ten minutes when I decide it’s safe to come out; the suits seemed long gone and I make my way back to my hiding place. I couldn’t tell you how long I had been in America; the days and weeks suddenly started to meld into one, but I know I’m in Detroit. I shiver as I stroll through the snowy streets, no one takes any notice of me in my short sleeves, thin pants and trainers; but I prefer it that way, it makes it easy to slip around the back of an old building and inside. I’d found it out of luck while wandering through the snow but it doesn’t completely shelter me from the cold; I lay down on my pile of cardboard and look up at the wires hanging down from the ceiling with a sigh.
I miss Edge.
Dad had finally told us about the ‘outside’ labs, he wasn’t sure how many there were-or where they all were-but he knew for certain there was one in America; he decided that we should split up and look for the labs alone then meet up again in England when we had done so. We had a year to do it and then we’d go looking for each other, and too keep each other safe we couldn’t tell each other where we were going. Edge hated the idea and now he hates Dad; we had a fight too before we left. I shiver again and close my eyes and somehow manage to drift to sleep.
Click.
What the hell was that? There’s something cold on one of my wrists and when I force my eyes open there’s a pistol inches from my nose; I follow the arm up to a young man with brown hair just past his ears and blue eyes-nice blue eyes. He has a thick coat on that is unzipped to show a white shirt and blue jeans; his brow furrows at me and he lightly tugs on my arm, cold metal touches my skin again and I notice we’re cuffed together.
“Get to your feet slowly.” He says calmly and I comply, turning slowly and getting to my knees then we rise to our feet together.
“Who are you? And how did you know I was in here?”
“I think it’s obvious who I am.” He raises his cuffed hand. “I saw fading tracks in the snow and thought there might be a drug deal going on in here.”
“Well you were wrong-it’s just me and I’m just trying to stay out of the snow.”
“I’m taking you in just in case.”
“Not until I see a badge.” I place my free hand on my hip. “And why the hell did you cuff me to you?”
He flushes. “My badge is at home and I’m going to call for back up back at my car.”
I get ready to take his pistol, it does look like a standard Police issued pistol but with the laws America has anyone could get that particular type. I grab his wrist and freeze; there’s someone in the other room-nearer the front of the building, I hear a gun cock and dive onto the officer as a hail of bullets puncture the drywall. “Move!” I hiss and pull him to his feet and out of the back. “Where is your car?”
“My car? Out front.”
Almost slipping in the snow I drag him to his car-a Ford Crown Victoria- and raise a brow. “Please tell me that isn’t your standard issued car.”
“It isn’t.”
“Good.” I climb across the driver’s seat and into the passengers, dragging him in too. “Now drive!”
“Why? Who shot at us?” One of the back windows explodes and he starts the car without another question. A black van is quickly on our tail and catching up; someone or something leans out and shoots out the back window.
“Give me your side arm.” I order and he looks at me like I’m crazy.
“I’m not giving a civilian my side arm!”
“Trust me, I’m no regular civilian.” I take it from him and carefully take aim, the trigger goes back and the thing topples out of the window. “Can you give me the key for these!?” I raise my cuffed arm. “I can’t aim properly.”
“I can’t.” He flushes again. “I just remembered as I cuffed you that the keys were still on my nightstand.”
He was joking, right? “Are you a rookie or something!?” The comment causes the blush to deepen and I instinctively duck as another shot goes off. I’ll just have to make do until I can get out of the cuffs. I take careful aim again and wait until we’ve rounded a corner to shoot; I take out one of the front tyres and the van spins out of control on the slushy road.
“Who the hell are you!?” The guy glances at me.
“Marshall, and don’t slow down-not yet.” I order and slip his pistol back into his holster for him.
“Marshall? That’s a weird name for a girl.” His brow furrows and I’m tempted to pull the pistol out again. “So who were they?”
“Don’t know…” I look back out of the shattered window. “But they’re probably part of the same group that’s been chasing me all freaking week.”
“I should call for back up.” He reaches for a radio and I yank his hand back.
“No-no more cops.” I glance around the car and raise a brow at him. “I thought this wasn’t your standard issued car.”
“It’s not.”
“Yet you have a radio in it.”
“It’s for emergencies.” He admits. “Kind of like this one. Look, it’s my day off but I always carry my gun and cuffs with me.”
“Just not the key.” I roll my eyes.
“Well if I call for back up they can un-cuff us.” He shoots sarcastically.
“And then you’ll haul me in-so no.” I shoot back. “Just drive home, un-cuff me and then I’ll go.”
“Go? Go where? I found you in an abandoned building and they did too-you’ve got nowhere to go.”
“I’ll manage.”
We sit in silence for the remainder of the drive and surprisingly he does take me back to his place; when we arrive it begins to snow and we have to jog a little ways to his apartment building. He lives on the third floor and his place is cozy, it has a small black sofa a few feet away from the TV, a kitchen with all the necessities, a bathroom a short walk down the hallway and after that the bedroom. It has a basic bed with dark blue sheets that are thrown about the bed, a chest of draws and a night stand with a lamp and alarm clock.
“Nice place…” I mutter. “Now are you really a cop or is this how you lure unsuspecting girls home?”
“I’m a cop.” He opens the night stand draw and takes out a badge-it looks authentic-then the keys to the cuffs with a grin. “But what would you do if I wasn’t?”
I grab his wrist, duck under his arm, twist it behind his back and draw his pistol with my free hand-tucking it under his chin. “This, so don’t try anything funny…”
“I won’t, promise.” He chuckles nervously and I reverse the maneuver but keep hold of the pistol; he un-cuffs me first then I spin the pistol on my finger and offer it back to him; he takes it and studies me.
“My name is Jamie…thanks for the save back there…”
“No problem.” I nod and head back through the rooms to the door; he follows me and tells me to wait. “No, whoever those guys were they probably ran your license plate through a system and are heading here; I have to leave and so do you-go somewhere safe.”
“You can’t.”
“Why not?” I snarl and he points to the window; the little flecks of snow have quickly turned into a huge blizzard. Shit. “Fantastic…” I can’t risk going out in that but at the same time I can’t stay in this guy’s apartment-cop or not, he could be trouble. I can feel him studying me again and I shudder-I have to leave.
“Just stay for a little bit…besides…you smell like you need a shower.” He smirks and every nerve and muscle in my right arm is telling me to punch him.
“You hide in a dumpster and see if you come out smelling like roses.” I growl.
He just chuckles at that. “Take a shower, get warmed up and wait for the weather to pass-then I’ll let you go on your way, I promise.”
There’s something about him…something in his eyes that tells me I can trust him; I study him and reluctantly agree. “Just until the weather clears up.”
There you have it, chapter one of the sequal...which i can't think of a name for! Idea's appreciated.
See you all next time!
