She looked up as she ran down the dark street. An old clock tower loomed above her, reminding her that time was running out. How did I get into this? Jenna thought to herself as she clutched the gun in her hands. It was too late to back out now. The lives of her family and friends now depended on what she did in the next forty eight minutes. She started to slow down as she neared the small shop on the end of the street. Tucked away in a corner of the window was a folded piece of paper with her name on I. as she opened it she realized it was a map. It led towards the hills about five miles out of town. Everything he had told her was now beginning to make sense. She took a left and ran to the end of the block. A black Porsche was parked at the end, just like he had said. She jumped into the car and slammed on the gas.
The dirt trail she followed was unfamiliar and rough. She couldn't help but feel that she was being watched, even though she could see no one. The large pond was now coming into view. She dimmed the lights and came to a stop, quietly stepping out of the car. A small creek ran along the trail she was to follow. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a muddy lump lying on its bank. Jenna slowly edged towards it, still holding the gun in her hand. She turned the muddy heap over to see the face of her dead brother. It had begun. She backed away in horror and continued to run down the dirt path.
An old wooden house was starting to come into view, she slowed down, being careful not to make any loud noise. Stopping beside a large oak tree, she checked the ammunition in the gun one last time. She could feel her heart pounding in her ears. None of this seemed real. It was like a nightmare, and she was hoping desperately that she would wake up any minute now.
Jenna slowly crept towards the side of the house. She could hear the squeak of footsteps on wooden floorboards. Then the slow creak of a closing door. She slid towards the front door, being careful to duck under the windows. She paused and listened. No sound was coming from inside anymore. She kicked open the door, aiming the door out in front of her. She looked just in time to see a shadow disappear into another room. Carefully, she made her way towards the room. The gun was now shaking in her hand. When she looked inside the dimly lit room it was empty. She slowly backed up and turned to see the shadow looming over her. It began to raise something up in its hands. She darted into the empty room and watched as an iron rod smashed into the table she had been standing by. Needle like splinters flew everywhere, showering the hallway and room. A man in his early thirties appeared in the doorway. He began to raise the heavy rod again. She quickly lifted the gun and pulled the trigger. It was like someone had grabbed the man by the shoulder and was shoving him back. He fell back into the wall, loosing his footing. He grabbed his shoulder in agony as he tried to stumble towards the kitchen. Jenna followed him but kept her distance, not knowing if he had another weapon.
Mounted lights lit up the living room and kitchen. Dusty pictures lined an old desk standing against the wall. A picture of a father with two children was closest to her. More pictures of the kids were laid out everywhere, but there was no mother in any of them. Letters were scattered all over the desk. She turned one over to find an unpaid child support bill. She looked at the man who was now lying on his back with his head propped up against a cabinet. His face matched the ones in the pictures.
She didn't know what this man had done. She didn't know what this man had done. She didn't know why he was out here in the middle of nowhere. All she knew was that he had a family, just like she did. She figured he was willing to do anything to provide for and protect them, just like she was doing at this very hour.
The image of her dead brother reminded her why she was doing this, and what happen if she didn't. walking over towards the man she stared back into his desperate eyes. She swore to herself that this would be the last time she ever picked up a gun. Images of her family and loved ones flashed before her as she raised the gun one last time.