3

THE MAN WAS clad in a blue and black uniform with a walkie-talkie shifted onto the right shoulder. He had an assortment of instruments on his belt and a ID tag that said 'Jonathan Will'. He had heard that name before, definitely. One word rang in his head: Police. The man grabbed him by the waist and tried to hoist him into his car with blue and red streaks on the side.Well, he didn't get Jake in his flash automobile at first, because Jake grabbed the wing-mirror. Before the policeman could notice, though, he ripped a bit of metal off it. "Wrecking the car now, are you?" 'Jonathan' grunted. He'd finally managed to get both of them in the car now. He started the ignition. The engine growled in the background as Jonathan intoned,"A lot on the records: Jake Wilson, age 15, committing crimes for someone to earn money. Now tell me," he said, turning to him while now brandishing a pair of handcuffs,"who is that someo-" He stopped because Jake had smashed him over the head with the wing-mirror-plate, sharp edge down. The policeman fell, clutching his head. He whimpered a "no!" but Jake didn't even hear.
          "That should give you a 'split'-ting headache" Jake joked. And he gave him another smash on the head, just to be sure, then opened the door and ran outside.

His feet made nearly no sound as he looked around. He stared up and down the wooden boards and walls of the house. No lights, he thought. Good. He laughed and whispered, "Not that anyone would be up at three anyway." He took in a deep breath of the fresh, cold air. So different from HQ... He snapped back to consciousness.  Come on, he remembered. He walked to the door. Locked, of course. He walked round the whole building before finding a small window slightly open. He tried to find any hand or footholds. None. He figured he could just reach the windowsill if he jumped high enough. He tried once - but his hands scraped against the wood. The second time his hands found nothing but air. The third time he grabbed the windowsill! Yes! The metal scraped off a layer of his skin. He panicked and started to swing. He'd now managed to get one leg on the cold metal. With one last pull he went up and over. He shoved his bloody hands in his pockets. He looked around and found he was in a small dark room . On the other side was a rectangular object. He  walked over to it and found a body on it. Then it struck him that he had climbed into a bedroom. There were shelves beside the bed and on one, a giant crystal. Aha, he thought. Being careful not to make a sound, he picked it up. Just then he saw flashing lights from outside the window.  He ran to where he had come in, and looked down. Better get outta here... Jonathan will be on my tail soon.
          But he was wrong. In the police car lay a man slumped over his seat.
          Unconscious.

click here for chapter 4