Fynn woke to a strange sound in his home. He looked over to see his wife Kelly, who wasn't wakened. Her shoulder length, red hair, was all a mess on her pillow and face; along with one of her arms draped across his naked rippled chest. Slowly he picked up her limp arm and put it by his side, as he did this he swore that she could sleep through an explosion.
Reaching under his bed, he felt for the hiding spot in the box spring for his gun. Kelly didn't know about this. Quietly checking the clip flipping off the safety, Fynn threw the covers off and steeped out of the room.
Leaning up against the door of his bedroom, as he started walking out and closing it behind him, he looked around real quick then put the gun to his side. Walking on the balls of his bare feet, he quietly walked to the next door and slowly pushed it open.
This room was dark, but bathed in pink with little ponies prancing around the walls. The ponies were coming from a moving nightlight on a bed stand, next to a little girl with rings of red locks that were covering her pale skin, and her little hand lying limply off the bed. This was Megan's room.
Fynn walked over to the night light and turned it off. Megan, just like her mother, could sleep through anything. He picked up her limp arm and put it under her covers, moved the curls gently away from her face, and gently kissed her freckle laced fore head. Again, quietly, he walk out of her room and closed the bedroom door.
There was one more door he wanted to check before he went down stairs; to check the rest of the house. At the same time he wondered where Jackson was. He walked up to the last door and pushed it open. The room was dark. What little light that came in was from the open door. It showed a room that had clothes strewed all over. The door had pushed a book pack behind it. This looked like what a boys room should look like. In the corner was a bunk bed, but as he walked in, he could see that there was no one under the crumpled covers.
His first reaction was to call for him, but then he heard a noise outside the bedroom window. Fynn walked to the window to see what it was. It was Jackson, the family Rottweiler, running after a ball that was thrown, but by who? To Fynn's relief it was Tyler. Their teenage son. The poor boy suffered from insomnia and Jackson was a great companion to Tyler; on nights like this.
Fynn, surveyed the back yard and then he saw Him. . .
YOU ARE READING
4 of a Kind
ActionWhen the government requires anything done that needs out of the box thinking, they would always turn to 4 of a Kind; a group with unique and outrageous skills. But with the Freedom of Information Act was passed, the government wanted them erased...
