Sweat was dripping off my brow. My heart was beating faster than a professional drummer leading his troops to victory. The chase was on. I, an average fourteen year old boy named William Brown II, could not be expected to do much more than pass school, sleep, and eat, but today, the entire world depended on me. Doomsday had arrived and terrorist forces had stolen the plans to making antimatter bombs from the United States. Many of our nation's allied countries were now parking lots. I was the last hope for humanity. I had snuck into the terrorist's main base and had stolen the plans for making the one bomb that would surely destroy the entire world.

Hot in pursuit were two heavily armed terrorist jets firing forty caliber machine guns just behind my feet. My heart was just about to give out from the ten miles I traveled but I knew that I had to survive to make the future a better place. Ducking and weaving through overhanging tree branches, I snuck a quick glance back to see that the jets were right behind me! Just when I thought my heart was going to give out, an emergency supply of adrenaline surged through my body. I could be easily running at five miles an hour! I was on top of the world; getting away while the jets had to stay above the treetop canopy. I could see a cave opening about fifty meters ahead! I was so close and yet so far away but I wasn't afraid. No, I could make it. I had to make it. Humanity depended on me getting away. Just twenty five meters now! I was almost there!

"Oof!" I exclaimed as I tripped on a conveniently place tree root. Groaning, I rolled over and saw that the jets were now right behind me and soldiers were jumping out. My heart nearly burst from my chest. I got up to run but collapsed, all because of a newly sprained ankle. I could hear the march of the soldier's boots thundering through the ground like exploding landmines as I desperately crawled away. The sounds drew closer and closer as I grew weaker and weaker. Suddenly the marching stopped and was replaced by twelve high caliber guns cocking. Filled with dread I slowly looked back and saw the face of the terrorist leader. He grabbed my collar with his mammoth hand and lifted me up face to face with him. He struck me. Hard.

"Give me the plans sonny and I just might let you live," he said. His breath stank of twenty packs of cigarettes and stale Taco Bell.

Drawing the last of my strength I uttered, "I will never surrender to you filthy sons of ––"