I twisted my hair into a ponytail, tucking it under my cap and lowering the brim. Then I took a final look around the room full of strangers, wondering which of them would help me escape, and which would try to kill me. I would get justice for my parent’s murder, I promised myself, or I would die trying. I kept that thought firmly in my heart asI kept my head low, and slowly began to push my way through the throng of people.
The enormous ballroom was dimly lit and the setting sun cast shadows that seemed to crawl away from the exposed windows onto the walls. Black and white tiles covered the floor, and a large banquet table was placed neatly beside a solid oak podium, under a massive grandfather clock at the front of the room. Blood red paintings spotted the walls with colour, while waiters in penguin like suits busily offered desserts to the wealthy and sophisticated guests.
An uneasy murmur of anticipation was heard throughout the room, as hundreds of special agents eagerly awaited a hooded speaker to approach the podium and address the crowd.
“Greeting’s ladies and gentlemen,” a bulky man began in a raspy voice. “It brings me great sorrow to announce the death of two of our most cherished agents, Victoria and Christopher Miles.” The room broke into a disoriented, grief stricken buzz, as many people began to cry noisily.
I had to avert my gaze at the reaction to my parents’ assassination. The man at the podium removed his hood, and bowed his head respectively I froze at the sight of the man who took my parent’s life. It was like the ground was snatched from underneath me, and I could barely breathe.
The man held up his hand to silence the crowd and continued, “Mr. And Mrs. Miles were murdered.” He stated this fact with a cold calculated tone my father would have used when he was trying to keep a secret. “All evidence gathered at the scene indicates that the assassin was not a professional, and was in fact their seventeen year old daughter.”
Outraged and sceptical guests shouted at the man, but I heard nothing except his raspy voice shouting over the others. “The girl’s name is Serenity Miles, 5 foot 4 inches.” He continued my description completely ignorant to the low murmur of shock in the crowd. “Light auburn hair, brown eyes, and is most likely traveling alone. I want anyone with information on her whereabouts to report to me directly. Serenity Miles will be brought in dead or alive.”
I had to get out of there, now.
“She’s just a kid!” I heard someone shout as I made my way to the door.
“Your orders are dead or alive,” the man bellowed, “and that’s final.” He gazed harshly around the room, until suddenly his eyes locked on me.
I didn’t hear a word leave his lips, but I seen him mouth “shoot” before three consecutive shots were sent soaring in my direction. My left arm began to burn sharply as I dropped to the floor just inches away from the door. Shouts filled the room as agents ran in every direction but mine. It couldn’t end like this; I thought to myself, I had to escape.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed my good arm and dragged me swiftly out the door and into the chilled November air. I stumbled on the stairs as I was dragged away from the building and into a black SUV, faster than my legs could carry me. I buckled myself in as the engine roared to life and sped away from the outraged shouts of the arena.
I glanced at my companion, not sure if I could consider him my rescuer, or if he was bringing me to my death. Perhaps, I mused, it would be the same outcome either way. “Who are you?” I asked wearily.
“Does it matter?” was his curt reply.
I shrugged. “Maybe not, are you going to kill me?”
He glanced down at me and smiled. “I think you do a well enough job at getting yourself killed, you don’t need me to do anything.” He shook off the dark hood of his jacked and I finally got a good view of his face. He had a defined jaw, intense green eyes that seemed to pierce the night, and a mop of overgrown brown hair hung in his eyes. “My name’s Josh and I have a plan.” He stated.
“And I’m supposed to trust that you’re not gonna hand me over to that Neanderthal?”
He shrugged nonchalantly, his lack of emotion started to seriously irritate me. “I saved you from being shot into Swiss cheese; I think you can trust me. Besides,” he added “I’m the only person you have right now.”
“Why are you helping me?” I asked sceptically.
“Because, I know exactly what you’re going through.”
I thought about what that could mean. What could make this care free guy’s voice turn so hard? I decided not to push the subject, I was just glad that someone understood at this point, for the first time since my parents died, I wasn’t alone. “So what’s the plan?” I asked.
Josh stopped the car and reached under the seat. He tossed me a gun and opened the door. I followed him silently into the night until we reached the edge of a forest. He held a finger to his lips and gestured for me to listen. I strained to hear in the silent night. Soon I could hear voices, and my blood ran cold.
My eyes went wide and my knees buckled beneath my weight. Josh caught my elbow and steadied me. He stared in to my eyes like he was searching my soul.
“Are you okay?” He sounded concerned.
I nodded numbly not trusting my voice. “What’s the plan?” I repeated wearily glancing around the dark.
His face broke into a grim smile and he gestured to the woods.
“Run!”
