|we've got a big big mess on our hands tonight|cal

[brynn abigail foster]

Abbie stared blankly at her gym locker for a moment, hearing the footsteps of the last straggling members of her squad receding down the hallway. She shook herself from her reverie, picking up her towel from the bench in front of her and heading to the showers. One of the very few benefits of staying so late was that one could shower alone, if they needed to shower in the locker rooms. Furthermore, they could use the stalls, rather than the disgusting shower-room. She sighed, hanging her towel on a hook and turning back to retrieve her her toiletries. As much as she hated locker room showers, she didn't have time today to go back home and shower.

She fidgeted with the dial for a minute before sliding out of her blue-and-white cheer uniform and stepping into the lukewarm water, her thoughts turning to the events of that morning.

"Abbie, Abbie!" her brother ran into the room, half dressed and looking thoroughly pleased with himself. She set down the carton of milk next to the bowl of lucky charms intended for him, and smilingly turned to put his arm into the other sleeve of his shirt, which, in his excitement, lay abandoned at his side. "Abbie!" He continued impatiently, entirely unable to contain his pride at doing so well, "Abbie, I found the bad man! The one yo told me to look for! I did it! Abbie, I found him for you!" All thoughts of breakfast cereal were immediately lost as she turned incredulous eyes to his. "Are you sure?" she asked slowly, barely believing her good fortune if it was true. "Of course I'm sure! I was running through the security footage from around the city, just like I do every morning, all the stuff that might have matches-" Here he paused to explain that he'd managed to run the image she'd shown him through some government software, so he wouldn't have to watch ALL the footage from the ENTIRE city- "and I saw him! He got in a taxi. I picked up cell transmissions and some other stuff from the same time and area, and I put together the audio background noise- well, I had to fidget with some of the recordings and amp up the-" "Ly..." Abbie gently interrupted, wanting him to get to the point. "Oh! Right. Sorry. From the sound I got and the video-from what I could tell, anyway- it sounded like he's headed for the country." He looked up at her, his eyes shining with pride as he eagerly waited her praise. "Lyle," She started, beaming, "You are the greatest brother a girl could ask for." She stooped to hug him tightly. "As soon as I take the bad man in and Alticor can deal with him, I'm taking you out for ice cream, okay?" "Really?" "Of course really," she laughed, "Now go get ready for school or you'll miss the bus." As he scampered off to his room, she turned back to his cereal, remembering her first months of training.

The water shuddered, startling Abbie ou of her thoughts for long enough for her to remember to finish rinsing her coconut shampoo out of her long red hair. With a little shiver of anticipation, she was amazed all over again at her luck. She'd been waiting for this day since she was fifteen.

Two and a half months at Alticor, and she could fire three kinds of guns, had learned the proper way to tail somebody, knew the most efficient way to slit a throat, and was fairly well acquainted with the ins and outs of her ability. They decided it was time to start teaching her about the sorts of people she'd be dealing with. Big people, small people, old people, young people, people who looked perfectly normal, and people who looked about as far from it as they could- everyone made the list. It had been a long day of learning, both combat training, and the slideshow on all the different people Alticor had brought in for testing, and who they intended to bring in. It was five that night, nearly time for her to go home, when that day's instructor said it was time to finish the slideshow. Now they were going to cover the people that Abbie wasn't allowed to interact with, as far as Gifteds went. After a few slides of your everyday shady looking people, and a brief explanation of why she was not allowed to engage known mind controllers or amneopaths in combat, they clicked to the next slide. The image of a pale boy with black hair and blue eyes filled the screen. She could tell from the picture that he was far from the type acceptable for a cheer-captain-to-be, but there was something captivating about him. Some sort of stubborn courage in his eyes, a sharp cleverness about the almost-smile he wore. Against all her Queen Bee instincts, she couldn't held but admit he was gorgeous. And then they clicked on. The next image, though undeniably the same person, was so startlingly different as to shake away nearly all of the initial attraction. The light was gone from his eyes, his mouth was stuck in a scowl, and his hair was far too long and bedraggled. "Callen Jones," The instructor said by way of explanation, "The first, most important thing you need to know about Mr. Jones is that if you see him, you are to call in his location immediately, then get as far away as possible, as quickly as possible." Abbie stared at the picture. He didn't look any worse than any of the other people in the slideshow. Why should he be any more dangerous than anybody else? "Two years ago," The instructor went on, "Mr. Jones' mother called us to offer her daughter to us for testing. We went to collect the girl and brought her back to one of our facilities for some standard testing. However, Ms. Jones was a frail creature, and during the course of our initial analysis of her abilities, her left lung collapsed, and, as we realized too late, even our best efforts couldn't save her. Mr. Jones, after learning that we had his sister, broke in to our facility, and, upon seeing his sister's autopsy being performed, caused quite a fuss here." She clicked o the next slide, where the image was beyond gruesome. It reminded Abbie of when she'd seen the movie "Watchmen" with her dad. She hadn't been able to shake the images from the movie since she was thirteen- the people ceasing to look like people and they blew out from the inside, splatters of blood covering everything around where they'd stood, the only things identifying them as once having been human the fragments of bone here, the wedding band there, a stray tendon dangling from the ceiling... And now she was seeing it, something that had really actually happened, though she was surprised to find that se looked at it with the same detachment as if it were a movie. Three pools of blood were on the floor, more splattered around each, and dripping from the ceiling above. In the center of the image was an operating table, a spotless white sheet nearly completely hiding the outline of a small body underneath it. "His ability," continued the woman, "As you can see, is nitrokinesis. We believe nitrokinetics cause explosions by rearranging existig elements in a way to make them combustible. In rooms void of combustible elements, the nitrokinetics we've studied are powerless." She clicked onto the next slide, the image similar in gore content to the prior. "Mr. Jones is highly dangerous, and is known to kill Alticor agents on sight. These three," she pointed to the three stains of red, "Were highly trained agents, and took all possible precautions. You are to avoid him at all costs, and let our trained teams handle him." the slide changed again, and the instructor droned on. Abbie could handle him. Her ability had to be just as dangerous as his. She could take him, and on top of that, if she managed to capture such a huge threat... Maybe she could bargain for her brother's permanent safety.

Abbie sighed as the water sputtered again. Why the school couldn't just fix their damn plumbing was beyond her. She propped her foot against the wall to shave her legs, and the resumed constancy of the water, however short-lived it might be, allowed her to return to her previous meditations.

That same night, after she was dismissed for the evening, she waited patiently for the instructor to leave. Making sure she was quite alone, she ran back to the file room, one of the very few rooms her Alticor keycard had allowed her access to back then. It took some digging , but before too terribly long, she unearthed the file from a filing cabinet that took some- ah- ingenuity to open. She skimmed over it, frustrated at how much of it was blacked out, to be read only by the head honcho and his cronies. Enough was, however, left to make her lock-picking worthwhile. Reassuring herself in her isolation, she turned to the copy machine, hurriedly scanning and printing the papers, and stuffing the warm copies in her bag. She tucked the file back in its place, locking it away again, and from there, her night went off without a hitch. All that was left was to see if Lyle could find him somehow.

"Ow!" Abbie cried out. Rolling her eyes at how distracted she was, she examined the little cut from her razor, quickly cutting off the blood flow until there were enough platelets to form a scab. Banishing her thoughts of the past, she tried to concentrate on not injuring herself any further for the rest of her shower.
She stepped out and dried off, wringing her hair out contemplatively. This was it. Two years of training, of waiting- and it all came down to tonight.

She couldn't lose.

She slipped on her change of clothes- pinstriped black shorts and a black tank top- and stepped out of the shower stall. A glance in the mirror had her rushing for her makeup bag, and after a few minutes, she deemed herself acceptable, and set to work on her hair. After the usual struggle, she pulled it up into a high ponytail and went back to her locker. Throwing her uniform into it and yanking out her duffel bag, she slammed the door shut, and, slipping on her well-worn Doc Martens, headed out of the locker room.

After a moment of rummaging, she pulled out her orange Coach wallet and a key ring, then continued on to the front of the school. She hailed a cab, and, directing the driver to a privately owned storage unit in the middle of town, pulled out the credit card that Alticor kept well stocked for such ventures. She fidgeted anxiously with the key for the entire twenty minute ride, her knee bouncing impatiently until she stepped out of the cab.

She walked quickly to the unit Alticor had stocked specifically for her, just like all the other units were for other agents. She unlocked it and punched in the code, tucking the key back into her bag as she watched the garage door roll up and reveal a probably illegal stash of weapons. With a little grin, she walked in, rummaging around for a few minutes. She deemed the rifle too big for her bag, and explosives just silly for the case at hand, and finally settled on a nice, compact hand gun and an appropraitely boot-sized knife. Casting aside a bulletproof vest as pointless, she toyed for a moment with the idea of bringing the wicked bright LED light her most recent instructor had assured her would blind anyone for at least thirty seconds, but decided againts it in the end. She could win without cheap tricks.

Grabbing the aerosol can of knock-out gas that she'd need if she brought him in alive (as she hoped to) a roll of duct tape, and a bag of zip ties, and a towelm she crammed everything into her duffel and locked up the storage unit, headed back to the road, and caught another cab, this time, to Carysville.

The sun was sinking quickly by the time she got to the little town, which was as close to the Woodley River State Park as the cab could get her. Paying the driver quickly, she stepped out, throwing away the remnants of her dinner- the bottle from her coconut water, the wrappers from her protein bars, the peel of her banana, and the foil the handful of iron supplements had come in- and pulling out her iPhone to get directions.

Her brother, fantastic as he was, had texted her halfway through the day to inform her that, by hacking some government satellite or another, had found that he was in the state park- only three miles from Carysville. And so she set off.

She reached the entrance of the park as the sun was sinking past the horizon, jittery as adrenaline flooded, unbidden, through her veins. She stepped onto the path, but, feeling too exposed, quickly moved into the forest, sticking to areas where the trees were large and the undergrowth sparse. She crept along for some time, until she came to a huge white birch tree. Deciding she'd find it again, she set her duffel down, pulling the gun from it and tucking the knife into her boot. It had been weighing her down for too long.

She'd barely taken five steps from the spot when movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention. It was past the treeline, and in the dim light, she almost missed it. Stepping closer to the edge of the forest, she made out a lithe figure making its way through the tall grasses, a mop of black hair appearing silvery in the moonlight.
"Jones..." She whispered, raising her gun. With a satisfying click, she proceded to level the gun with his head. Three... she counted down in her head, checking her aim, Two... His back was still to her, she realized with a smug smirk, One. And she pulled the trigger.

[callen lee jones]

Callen was pissed. It seemed like he was always pissed, though, so it wasn’t anything new. He had been closed off ever since he watched his sister have her heart cut out of her chest. Callen woke up again to the same nightmare he had had for the past year and a half. It was the exact replica of the moments that lead up to his sister’s death.

First he saw his mother in the kitchen, and then the next moment he was choking against the wall. The next second he was standing a few feet away from her, “I hope you enjoy hell.” He blew her up into a million pieces. Callen began to sweat. He was running to Alticor to find his sister. A flash of white and he was at the window looking at his sister being cut open in the chest. He screamed for her, banged on the window trying to get the attention of the man in the lab with his sister to prolong her life. It was soundproof and he was unable to open the locked door that lead into the room. He rasped his hands on the glass, but the man didn’t give him even a second look. Callen had to get in there. He had to or else his sister would die. If he didn’t get in there—he cut open her chest, also slicing through his thoughts. “NO! NO! NOT MY CALLIE! PLEASE! NO!” he hit the door with all of his strength. He wanted so badly to get into that room. His hands began to bleed from bashing on the door so roughly. “NO! I NEED HER! DON’T TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME! STOP! NO!” he cried out for her wishing that she could hear him. The man pulled out a scalpel and put it on her shadowed chest. “CALLIE!” he cried out for her over and over again. He needed her. She was all he had left.

The man made the incision in a v across her chest as Callen still screamed out for her. When he cut her ribs and placed them on the metal table next to him, he began to cry as he still screamed. He was taking away the only person he ever loved other than his father. He couldn’t understand why he would do something so terrible. Callen needed her more than ever. He knew he would never have her again in the moment he reached his hand into Callie’s chest and pulled out her still beating heart. “GOD! CALLIE, NO!” he turned from the door and felt his knees weaken. He rested against the wall and slid slowly down it until he finally reached the floor. He fell sideways onto the floor and just lay their sobbing. He had just lost his entire world in that one moment. He lost not only his sister, but his best friend, his angel, the one that saved him. She was the one that talked him out of drinking and smoking and doing completely idiotic things all the time.

After almost an hour of crying on the floor of the monstrous company, he finally sighed and knew he had to get out of there before someone came in and found him. He went outside and felt so furious, so outraged, that he wanted to make Alticor explode. He couldn’t though. His power wasn’t great enough yet to make an entire building blow up. She he waited outside the building for hours. He waited until the man he had seen cutting open his sister came out. Callen put on a poker face and went up to him. Before he would kill him, Callen wanted answers. He took him by the throat and threw him up against the wall almost exactly like he had done to his mother mere hours prior. “WHY DID YOU DO THAT? WHY DID YOU TAKE HER? WHY DID YOU KILL MY SISTER?” the man looked at him like he was crazy, which made him put his grip tighter around his neck. “Okay, okay. Just release me and I will tell you.” Callen tightened his grip around the man’s throat before releasing him ever so slightly. He didn’t remove his hand from his neck, but loosened it enough so that he would be able to breathe. “Tell me, or you die.” Callen said. He was going to kill him anyways, but he might as well get the answers he wanted out of this bastard. “For studying.” He held himself back from choking him again. “Studying what?” he said in a dark voice. “Blood, organs, brain, everything.” Callen’s lips went into a hard line. “Why did you choose her?” he asked in a monotone voice. The man didn’t answer, so Callen tightened his hand around his neck. He tapped on Callen’s hand and nodded, letting him know he would answer. “B-because she has a gift. And your mother gave her to us. How could we deny a gift like that?” He gave a dark chuckle, and Called released the man then threw his fist into his face. The man stumbled backwards and covered his bloody lip with his hand. Just then, Callen looked at him and without a word made the man explode right in front of him, making blood splatter all over his skinny body, From head to toe he was covered in blood.

At that, Callen woke up. He was covered in sweat and blood dripped from his lip. His breathing was heavy and his eyes were tired and red from the tears. He sighed, wiped his face, and threw his legs over his full-sized bed. He was still kind of living in the same old house where he had blown up his mother. Since no one could prove that Callen had killed his mother, he inherited the house along with the family car and all of the money. Having to be so far away from Alticor was tough though, so he bout a small place in the city. Most of the time, he never went outside until dark though, so people never saw him. He left the car back in Carrysville because it was easier to find a car than it was to find a person. He also didn’t think he needed it that much. Callen had gone into Carrysville to go to his old home. He decided to get rid of his newer place in the city because it was too much of a risk for people to see him there. It was good that he hadn’t sold his home. He had called a taxi to drive him there, and was soon on his way home. Everything in that house was the same. Everything except there was no more blood or body parts from his mother. He had settled in that night and gone straight to bed. He was utterly exhausted.

Callen walked to the bathroom and turned on the water. He stripped down to nothing and looked at himself in the mirror with a sigh. He could see the fury still in his eyes. It had been two years since his sister’s brutal murder, and Callen had killed a total of ninety one Alticor employees. He was still untouchable. No one had yet caught him because he always blew them up before they could do anything. He had become stronger and more in control over his ability since then, but still not strong enough to a building explosion.

Callen shook his head with a sigh and jumped into the shower. He went through the entire process without a single thought of his sister or Alticor. Instead his mind was completely blank. He had nothing to think about. The only thing running through his head was a song he was writing in his head. Music was one of the only things he used to get thoughts and images of Callie out of his mind. When he was done, he stepped out, and dried himself off with an old maroon towel. He tucked in one corner of his towel close to his waist and began his routine of getting ready for the day. It was what he called his day off. Today he was finally going to rest his body for a day to try to save up some energy. He had been fatigued lately to how much he had used his power. Yesterday had been one of his biggest jobs ever so far. He had gone after one of the top people in Alticor. After that was easily completed, he went after the lab workers and even a janitor. He didn’t care if you just started working there or if you weren’t one of the people ‘studying’ the gifted people. If you worked at Alticor, you were dead.

Callen got dressed in his usual attire, and went to the kitchen for food. He took a piece of toast with him to the living room, and on the way passed Callie’s old bedroom. He stopped, closed his eyes and sighed as he began to walk again. Maybe he was having all of these dreams because he was still in the same house that all of Callie’s things still lay. He had only gone into her room once after her death. It was the night of her death after he had come back to the house and cleaned up. He went into her room and began crying more for the loss of Callie. He had fallen asleep in her bed with red eyes.

After sitting in the living room for close to an hour, Callen was bored. He took out a cigarette and lit it with his black Zippo lighter. It was almost dark now and he didn’t really see anything to entertain him now. He could probably go outside and not worry about anyone at Alticor finding him because they all knew about him living in the city, they just didn’t know where. Callen took a deep drag on his cigarette, which he knew Callie would hate if she were here. He shrugged and stood up. Even if someone did find him, he’d just make them explode. It wasn’t really anything to him anymore than almost enjoyment. Sure it sounded sick and twisted, but they took away his sister. He didn’t care how sick or twisted it was.

Callen finished his toast and went outside. He figured a walk would clear his head a little, and the state park wasn’t far from here. In Carrysville, he didn’t really have to worry about people looking for him out here. Boshford was different though. In Boshford, there were fucking cameras all over the place, which was ridiculous. So Callen went outside with his cigarette and his hands in the pockets of his tight jeans. He held the cigarette in the side of his mouth so he wouldn’t have to use his hands. As he walked, he looked at his surroundings out of habit. He didn’t see anyone around because it was just about to be dark. He went into the park through the side entrance and walked along the paths. The cool air really did clear his head, because he wasn’t really thinking of anything at all. He just kind of felt like a drink.

Callen walked into an open stretch and took another deep drag on his cigarette. Out of nowhere, something struck the side of his head right in the temple. His cigarette dropped to the ground and Callen fell instantly after it with his hand clenching his head. “OW FUCK!” he said. He crawled behind a nearby tree and leaned up against it. He could see blurry figures and black spots in front of his eyes. He blinked a couple of times, but couldn’t see much more than shapes and black spots.

He stood and turned slightly around the tree to try to see a person anywhere around him. He could see where the open land turned into trees, and a small, blurry figure standing beside one. He coughed and focused his mind on that one figure that was now moving back and forth. Callen blinked and set his mind to making the figure explode. He blinked at the wrong moment and missed the figure by a few feet. He sighed and turned back to sit against the tree. He sighed and closed his eyes and wiped the blood that was running down his face. He started getting his vision back. He turned again with less blurry vision and noticed fiery red hair. He tried again to blow the figure up, but his vision was still too blurry and he missed it again. “Fuck.” He said. He stood and wiped his head again. Of course he couldn’t have a night off. He was beginning to get even angrier.

[brynn abigail foster]

As soon as he shouted, Abbie realized it wasn't the instant kill she'd hoped for. "Damn it!" she muttered, firing another shot shot, only to have it sink into the tree trunk beside his head.
She barely had time to reorient herself before the ground before the ground in front of her exploded, sending soil and rock everywhere. She flung her arm up to shield her eyes, losing her gun in the process. "Fuck!" she grumbled, hurrying back to her feet, irritated at the dirt on her new shorts. As soon as she regained her balance, she set off at a full sprint toward the field, another explosion missing her by inches and sending her stumbling to the side. Quickly adjusting her footing, but never slowing down, she realized the significance of his missing, twice.
She'd gone over his file enough to know that he didn't miss; she'd thrown him off, and she had to take advantage of that while she it lasted.
She reached the treeline in time to see him standing up as he wiped blood from his head. That's more like it. she thought, directing more of his blood to the cut, trying to angle the flow to get it in his eyes, hopefully buying herself more time.
"You're Callen Jones." Though intended as a question, it turned into a statement as she spoke it. She was speechless for a moment as she got a look at his face. It was still the boy she'd seen in the photos two years ago, the same blue eyes that had caught her off guard, but where there had been a charming willfulness, all she saw now was reckless malice.
Regaining her cold detachment, irritated by her momentary lapse of sense, she stepped toward him. "Look. I can fix that, or I can make you bleed to death from a fucking scrape. Personally, I'd recommend the first."she glanced around, trying to find something she could use to her advantage.
There had to be something.
The trees did her no good, and with no weapons immediately available, she realized she had nothing but herself.
"Unlike you, I'm not particularly in the mood for killing, but, unfortunately, there's a hell of a lot more at stake than morals." She glared at him, then added under her breath, "Than me, for that matter." She knew that if it weren't for Lyle, she'd never be here. She'd give anything for him. She looked around again, trying to buy time, even if it was just seconds.
It was times like these she wished she had a less subtle ability.
She stepped to the side as if to circle him, praying to whatever might be up there that this would work.
Squeezing her eyes shut for half a second she swung into a sharp roundhouse kick, rewarded by a gratifying think! as her boot made contact with his jaw. As her foot hit the ground, she was already launching herself at him, only hoping that the sudden force of her full weight hitting him would be enough to knock him off his feet. Her forearm poised to hit his throat, and readying herself to kick out the backs of his knees if this failed, she braced herself as she slammed into him.

[callen lee jones]

Callen’s eyes were closed as he pushed himself to a standing position against the tree. He wiped his head again with the back of his hand and a scowl set in place on his emotionless face. “You’re Callen Jones.” The girl said. He looked over at her and surprise struck him. “The fuck?” he said to himself disoriented still. No wonder she missed. She was a she. He pushed himself of the tree and looked at her up and down with still slightly blurred vision. She looked like a sixteen year old girl from what he could tell. Why the hell was a kid shooting at him? Before he could ask, she said, "Look. I can fix that, or I can make you bleed to death from a fucking scrape. Personally, I'd recommend the first." He furrowed his brow. He clenched his fists and stepped towards her. Her words stopped him from blowing her up on the spot. "Unlike you, I'm not particularly in the mood for killing, but, unfortunately, there's a hell of a lot more at stake than morals. Than me, for that matter." He growled under his breath and shook his head. “There’s really nothing stopping me from killing you right now. I could blow you up this second if I wanted to.”

He watched her step sideways, but didn’t think anything of it, but instead stepped towards her. Suddenly her foot came around and hit him square in the jaw making him stumble backwards. “You fucking kidding me?” he yelled. Next thing he knew, there was a forearm on his throat and he fell backwards. He chuckled darkly as he landed on the ground with the girl on top of him. He turned himself over so that he was now on top of her. He took her hands by the wrists that were frantically moving around trying to make it so that he couldn’t grab them, and put them above her head. With one hand he took both her wrists and with the other, he grabbed her throat. “Who are you? And why did you try to shoot me?” she wouldn’t stop wiggling underneath him, so he tightened his legs around her. He put his legs securely over hers so they couldn’t move much either. “Answer me, damn it! Before I start making your fingers explode!” Ugh! He hated women sometimes. And kids too. Now that his vision wasn’t blurred, he could tell she was older than sixteen, but not older than nineteen. Where did she come from and what business did she have shooting at him.

He hated that he didn’t just kill her when getting a hold of her. He should have. He just wanted to know who the hell she was first. Then he could kill her. Her face was familiar. He couldn’t find a memory from where, but then it struck him. This girl reminded him somewhat of his sister. Callen squeezed her wrists tighter with his hand and growled. She had the same blue-green color eyes. Jesus they were pretty. But only because they were like Callie’s. He didn’t want to think of her, he just wanted to get some damn answers. Why wasn’t she talking? “FUCKING ANSWER ME!” he yelled in her face. Blood spilled from his head and onto her neck. Fury was the only thing in his eyes, and his mouth was in a stern line. If she didn’t start talking soon, he would just get up and make her explode into a million pieces. His patience was already thin and she wasn’t helping any. “Are you from Alticor?” he asked. His hand tightened around her throat. God, if she was from Alticor. He almost hoped she was. He had somehow started to enjoy killing people from that monstrous corporation. He liked having the feeling of power and he liked getting his revenge. He knew it was slightly sick, but if it weren’t for those bastards, he would still have family left and he wouldn’t be so closed up.

Callen used to have a normal life. He used to have friends. He had girlfriends, everything. Now all he had was alcohol, cigarettes, one night stands, and killing. No one to love or to get love from. He was alone in the world. And he liked it that way. He didn’t want someone trying to change him when they found out how many people he had killed, and he didn’t want them to feel sorry for him when they found out about his story. They could all go fuck themselves for all he cared. The only thing in life that he needed was the things he had. He was fine alone.

[brynn abigail foster]

A self-satisfied smirk lit her face as he fell to the ground, but it was short-lived. Before she had time to react, he had flipped them over so he was pinning her to the ground. She thrashed violently, trying to shake him, or at least to prevent him from getting a better hold on her.
But he was far faster than she’d accounted for. She had expected someone who did their killing from a distance to be no match for her in a fistfight, but he’d gotten a hold of her wrists and wrenched them over her head in seconds, his other hand gripping her throat.
Gasping in panic, her breathing sped up as he snarled in her face, demanding answers. She bucked her hips, trying to wrench herself free, but to no avail.
She felt his legs tighten around her, and for a moment, she was struck by how muscular he really was. Deceptively so. No Abbie. You need to bring him in, not think about him like that. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the thought, but he did it for her by yelling in her face. ”Answer me, damn it! Before I start making your fingers explode!”
With every syllable, his grip tightened; she could feel the oxygen rasping through her throat, hardly making a difference.
Something passed over his features just then, a sort of puzzlement that turned into something she couldn’t place. For less than a second, she could have sworn she saw the young boy from the photo again. The way he was looking at her…
She squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze, and then it was gone, a darkness in its place that chilled her to the bone.
”FUCKING ANSWER ME!” He screamed, but by this point, she couldn’t if she wanted to. How did she let it get to this? She felt tears running down her face and his blood on her neck. She wondered how long she’d been crying.
She was feeling lightheaded when he asked in a low voice, ”Are you from Alticor?” And held her throat so tight she saw spots.
The world was fading to black like the credits in a b-list movie when she rallied all her strength to drain the blood from his hands and legs. As his grip finally loosened, she scrambled away, gasping noisily for air, her panting turning to sobs, despite her humiliation at crying in front of him. ”Please,” she sobbed in a voice that sounded like she was still being strangled, ”Just hear me out.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, wiping her face off and taking a deep breath. It was a matter of seconds before she’d recomposed herself. With a sniffle she continued, terrified of finding his hands on her throat again. ”Two years ago, Alticor showed up at my house- I don’t know how they knew, but they-“ She made a choking noise, blinking back more tears. ”Ever since mom left, dad’s at work all the time, so it’s always been just me and Lyle, and when they said- I practically raised him- he’s my best- my best friend-“ She gasped again for air, biting her lip till it bled in an attempt to distract her from her emotions. She took a deep breath, wondering if he’d understood a word of what she’d said, with how fast she’d been talking.
”If they’d said they were going to take both of us, I would have been fine. I didn’t know any better then. But… But they only wanted him. They were going to take him. My baby brother. He was only six.” She stared at the ground, unable to meet his eyes, ”So... So when they tried to take him away, I blocked the door and told them they couldn’t. I think I would have killed them if they tried. But they made a deal with me. They said as long as I helped them, they wouldn’t take Lyle. So I’ve been working for them for two years. And I’ve seen he things they do. And I hate it. I hate knowing that that’s what I’m helping. But… If I don’t, it’ll be my brother in those machines.”
She hesitated for a minute, turning her eyes from the ground to the stars. ”If it weren’t for Lyle, I would have taken orders and stayed away from you. But I thought-“ She paused, trying to reword her thoughts, ”They’ve been trying to get you for years. So I thought if I brought you in, I could bargain for Lyle’s safety even if I quit. All I want is for them to stay away from my brother.”
Her hands clenched into fists, her arms trembling from a combination of fear and shock. She couldn’t believe she’d told him, a perfect stranger, what she hadn’t been able to tell anybody else.
”Please,” she said softly, looking at him finally, her eyes wide, pleading- desperate. ”You have to understand. I…” She tugged at the hem of her shorts nervously, ”I know what they did to your sister. Wouldn’t you have done the same for her if you had the chance?”

[callen lee jones]

Callen’s grip tightened around the red head’s throat still when he asked her if she was from Alticor. He didn’t see that she was slowly blacking out. His hand suddenly felt cold, lifeless. He couldn’t feel it anymore. His legs felt just as limp and bloodless and his hands. The girl quickly jumped out of his grasp, and he felt his hands becoming warm as the blood rushed back into his limbs. She was crying and sobbing and gasping for air. He didn’t know he had choked her that badly; or maybe she was being a little baby about the whole thing. She seemed like the type of girl that didn’t like to get dirty, and with Callen, there weren’t any clean spots on you when he was through. He didn’t like girls that couldn’t handle him. He liked good sex, and good sex hardly ever happened with someone who couldn’t get messy.

Callen snarled and looked at the ground then back up at her with flared nostrils. He couldn’t believe he had thought of something like that after just being shot at by her. He wanted so badly just to kick the hell out of her, but Callen never hit a girl in his life. He only made them explode. She began to talk, and Callen listened intently to everything she had said. That she was only at Alticor to protect her brother. He could understand that, he just couldn’t understand why she had to pick today of all days to go after him. It was the one day he had off and the one day he didn’t expect anyone to find him. Next time he would be more careful and he would always be ready for someone to come after him. There was no way in hell he was going to let someone kill him before he could have his revenge on Alticor satisfactorily. He wouldn’t feel satisfied until the head of Alticor was killed by his own hands. He would do anything to be the one to make both Fender and Adcock explode. It had become his goal to kill them both. Maybe he could show them both a taste of their own medicine by cutting open their chests and ripping out their hearts, too, just like a scientist had done to Callie. That would make him content enough.

He didn’t know if he could kill her after she had said all of this. When she paused, his mouth was still in a hard line, and his eyes were still cold. Then she said something that made his blood start churning faster again. , "I know what they did to your sister. Wouldn’t you have done the same for her if you had the chance?” Callen immediately went up to her and pushed her against the tree. He put his face inches from hers. “HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT MY SISTER?” he yelled harshly. He bet she went snooping around about him since she had said earlier that she was supposed to stay away from him. Everyone was. If they didn’t they died. It was sensible. Everyone at Alticor knew his face, and everyone at Alticor was aware of his no-nonsense business. They knew he didn’t mess around about killing, and they hadn’t yet stopped him. They hadn’t found a way to not be blow to pieces by his power.

He guessed they hadn’t found anyone that had a force field yet, because he was sure that would keep his explosions away from someone. He just didn’t know yet. He intended to find out though so when he finally went up against someone with it, he would know how to react if his power wasn’t strong enough to go through it. He still needed some kind of training, but he didn’t yet know who to get it from. He should figure it out soon though.

No matter how much this red head knew about his sister or why, he didn’t think he could kill her. Because if he did, her little brother would be in danger. And even though he would never verbally admit it, she was right. If his sister were alive, he would have done the same thing. He would have done anything to keep her alive and safe. Callen sighed, but didn’t pull away but a few centimeters to ask in a cold, distant voice, “What’s your name?” his lips thinned as he waited for her to answer. If she didn’t do it quickly enough, he would choke her again.

[brynn abigail foster]

She'd barely said "your sister" and he'd slammed her against a tree, her head hitting the trunk with a thud. She cringed a little as he screamed, expecting him to either choke her again or back off after he'd shouted.
But he did neither.
He stayed inches from her; so close she could feel his breath on her cheek, she could feel heat radiating off of his body. Her heart beat picked up, and though she tried to tell herself it was from fear, something fluttered in her stomach. Damn hormones. she thought bitterly, trying to think of something else.
She was about to answer him when he pulled away from her, still pinning her to the tree, but not as close as he had been.
She shivered a little as the cool night air replaced his body heat, and turned her eyes back to him, determined to remain detached.
Again she was going to speak, but he cut her off. "What's your name?"
"Brynn." blinking surprisedly for a moment. After a moment of nervous breathing and trying to figure out why on earth she'd said that, she answered his first question.
"I know about her because I stole your file. Okay?" She glared defiantly at him, making his cut start bleeding again out of frustration.
"Now, will you please let me go?" She squirmed a little, trying to wiggle free of the hands holding her there, but he was too strong for her. She glared at him again. "Please?" She asked in an exasperated tone, more than ready to be done with this night.

[callen lee jones]

Callen’s lips thinned in anger. Why couldn’t people ever mind their own business these days. People were always getting into Callen’s business. Ever since he killed that first man at Alticor, people have been watching him like he was going to unleash on random people of the streets. They followed him on cameras, video, you name it, they had it on him. it was one reason he didn’t usually carry around his cell phone. Besides, it was useless. He could get someone else’s phone easily. He had become quite good at pick pocketing in the busy streets of Boshford. People were easy to steal from now. They were so oblivious and so into the electronic world that most people didn’t notice a hand going in their bag or pocket. And they were always in everyone’s business. Facebook made that easy. Which is why he never intended to get one. They were pointless. He didn’t want people looking at pictures of him, or people writing on his page asking about where he’s been for so long. It was all bullshit. He was alone for a reason.

When he backed away slightly, and finally said her name, he huffed. He wondered why she had a surprised look on her face. Why was she surprised at her own name? Kids these days. He scowled and stepped closer to her. “You stole my file?” he asked cutting off every sylable annoyed. He felt the blood rush out of his head more. She asked if he would let her go. “STOP THAT DAMN IT!” he yelled and wiped his head instead of letting go of her. The blood had clumped his long hair and it was running down his neck and chest. This girl was going to drive him to insanity, he could already tell. “Give me the file.” He said in a low voice. He wanted his file. He wanted to see what it said about him and what it said about his sister and her death. He wanted to burn its contents, burn away the final memory of her.

She waited a second too long to speak. “Damn it! Why don’t you ever answer? Give me the file.” He said again. He shook her a little and growled under his breath. He wanted to get the file and go home so he could read I and burn it. He never wanted the people at Alticor to have it again, and if she had the file, it could get back to them. Then they could add to it and add this red head to the killing list. He was about ready to kill her right now. But he needed the file first. He didn’t care about whoever she was protecting. She was already making him go insane. And if she didn’t give him the file, he would make her.

[brynn abigail foster]

Abbie continued glaring at him, folding her arms as her impatience mounted. When she told him she'd stolen his file, she couldn't tell if he looked more surprised or irritated. She grinned a little, but it was quickly wiped off her face as he started screaming about her making him bleed again.
"Maybe I'd stop if you let me go." She hissed, jerking her shoulders forward in a futile attempt to free herself. She was getting really sick of him holding her down.
Before she knew it, he was going off about the damn file again. She heaved a sigh, her scowl turning into an expression of exasperation, but, as she opened her mouth to speak, he cut her off yet again. He shook her, shouting in her face again, and her forced patience turned into infuriated determination. She resumed glaring, her jaw clenching as she thought every foul thought in the world at him.
"Is it a habit of yours," she snapped, "To not let people answer your questions?" She glared silently for another moment before kicking him in the shin with all her strength. As his hands slipped momentarily from her shoulders, she shoved him backwards, storming off toward the trees.
She paused and turned back for a moment. "Why the hell would you think I carried your file with me, anyway?" She shook her head, rolling her eyes, and kept going.
It took only a moment to find her bag, and even less time to push her things aside and pull the flashlight out from the bottom of it.
With a frustrated sigh, she started retracing her steps, trying to find the gun that had been knocked out of her hands.
"This night is going fantastically," she muttered.

[callen lee jones]

Callen’s lips were still set in an angry line when she finally answered him. “Maybe if you would answer more quickly and I wouldn’t have to ask you more than once.” He said through tight lips. His agitation was steadily increasing every second he was with this red head. If he didn’t get away from her soon he was sure to make her or a nearby tree explode. She still hadn’t answered his simple question, and he shook her a little, yelling in her face to answer him. It was ridiculous how long it had taken her to speak. It was like she had to think about every word before she spoke it. God it was annoying. Did she not know how to put an at least slightly intelligent sentence together?

He sneered at her when she said, “Is it a habit of yours to not let people answer your questions?” she glared at him. She glared at him. Was she joking? She shot at him and she was getting mad that he was mad! This had to be some kind of sick joke. “Answer the fucking question!” he yelled. He swore on his own life that he was going to explode himself from all the anger that fueled inside of him. This girl was useless! How did she end up at Alticor? He would probably be doing them a favor if he killed her right now. She was no more useful to them as a sitting duck. She couldn’t even aim a gun properly and kill him!

Suddenly, she threw her foot into Callen’s shin. His hand instinctively went to his leg and he bent over in pain. “Ow! You fucking—“ he growled and followed after her limping ever so slightly. Callen scowled and ran up to her grabbing the bag out of her hands after she muttered something rudely under her breath. He snatched it from her grip and began riffling through the items. He turned it over and dumped out its contents. Make up, a mirror, and what he could only guess was a tampon fell to the ground along with a few other random things he couldn’t identify. He didn’t see any type of paper other than a small notebook. Damn. She didn’t have it. Callen threw the bag onto the ground. “Where is my file?” he asked in a soft voice. He had to take a deep breath to calm himself so that he didn’t attack the girl. This night was going completely opposite of how he wanted it to.

[brynn abigail foster]

Abbie continued on, not looking back even as she heard him catching up to her. She ignored him, searching for her gun, until her bag was prized from her grip. She turned furious eyes to him as he rifled through her belongings.
She couldn’t believe it when he threw her bag on the ground, and even less when he proceeded to ask for the file. She stepped toward him, her jaw clenched tight.
”If you,” she practically snarled, ”would shut up for five fucking seconds, and listen to someone other than yourself,” she stepped toward him, fire in her eyes, ”you would know, I don’t have it with me.”
A muscle twitched in her temple, and she punched him square in the face, her scowl flickering into a momentary grin as he staggered backwards before she resumed her glaring, finally letting go and showing him just how dangerous she could be.
It was the same as it usually was- it took him a moment to realize anything was happening, then the look of confusion as he started to feel funny, then the clawing at the body that was no longer in his control. Finally, he fell to his knees, looking as though he were trying to tear the flesh off of his bones. He breathed noisily, clutching at his chest and screaming out in pain.
”That, Abbie said disinterestedly, ”Is all the blood in your body trying to get out.” She turned her back to him, looking for her gun again, and casually called over her shoulder, as if commenting on the weather, ”It should start coming out your ears and mouth soon. Maybe your eyes.”
”Stop… You fuck… ing… bitch…” He choked out, and she whirled around to face him, aiming a sharp kick to his ribcage. She could feel the blood inside him rushing to the spot as she made contact, and she turned walk away, only to find him with a tight grip on her ankle and a sadistic, blood-stained smile.
He yanked on her leg, sending her crashing to the ground with enough force to knock the air out of her lungs. She groaned, coughing uncomfortably, watching helplessly as Callen fell forward to his hands and knees, looking like a zombie just risen from the grave as he crawled toward her. Her heart raced with fear as he got closer, now an arm on either side of her waist and his legs over hers. All she could think was that he was going to choke her again.
He opened his mouth, panting as his veins crushed on everything inside him. She watched, mesmerized, as a scarlet ribbon fell from his parted lips, landing on the sensitive skin of her stomach where her shirt had been pushed up when she fell. She shivered as it slowly rolled down her side, leaving a hot line of color on her startlingly pale skin.
She blinked in surprise, closing her mouth and wondering when she’d opened it in the first place. Her eyes moved slowly up his body until they locked on his. They were the color of the sky in winter- when one could see the sky- and, bloodshot though they were, they said so much.
His hand slammed down next to her, missing her throat by less than an inch, and a little whimper escaped her lips. He licked his stained-red lips, staring at her intently.
”Stop it.” he rasped, his eyes, for once, looking almost desperate.
She sighed, and felt as his blood flow slowly went back to normal.
She reached up and knotted her hand in his hair, her knee slowly sliding up between his legs. She glared at him warningly, then said in a voice barely louder than a whisper, ”Don’t call me a bitch.”

[callen lee jones]

Callen wanted that file more than anything right now, and nothing was going to stop him from getting it. She didn’t have it on her person, so she must have had it back wherever she resided. “If you would shut up for five fucking seconds, and listen to someone other than yourself, you would know I don’t have it with me.” He growled a little and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could reply, she crashed her fist into the side of his head making him step back with surprise. Oh that was enough to get his blood pumping. He had never hit a girl before in his life, but he was willing to start with her. He had had enough bullshit for one night. He only wanted two things: the file, and to go home and burn it after reading.

He took a step towards her but was stopped by the growing sense that spiders were crawling inside of his body. He hated spiders. A little yelp escaped his lips as he clawed at his skin. Suddenly the crawling of eight little legs went to staggering pain. He cried out and fell to his knees, clutching his body. He tried to claw the pain away but it didn’t help any. His breath grew louder with each agonizing breath to where he could barely hear her speak. “That is all the blood in your body trying to get out. I should start coming out of your ears and mouth soon. Maybe even your eyes.” He looked up with her, fuming anger. “Stop…You fuck…ing…bitch.” He said through exasperated breath. The red head turned quickly with her body and kicked him in the rib cage. That was it.

Callen grabbed her ankle and jerked on it hard enough for her to tumble to the ground. She coughed and he gave her a heartless smile. He got on his hands and knees and began crawling his way over her. Inch by inch his smile fading into a deadly grimace. The blood running from his mouth dripped down onto her stomach. He watched sin take over her eyes, but it didn’t stop him from crawling onto her small frame. He slammed his hand into the ground and took a deep breath as her eyes now filled with fear. “Stop it.” he said in a deathly low voice.

Finally he was able to breathe again. He closed his eyes and let his head fall. He felt her hand grabbing his hair and her knee sliding between his legs. “Don’t call me a bitch.” She said almost so softly he couldn’t hear her. He opened his bloodshot eyes and took her arm in his hand. He threw it away from his head like it was nothing and rolled onto his back still catching his breath. His hand rested on his heart. “Don’t try to kill me again or I will blow you to smithereens. Got it?” he cut off every word with anger and tightened his lips. The strength it was taking not to just blow her up right now was amazing him. he didn’t know how he was doing it. First she shoots him in the side of the head, then she decides to punch him and kick him, and then almost kills him with her mind. And she was worried about being called a bitch. This was classic. He would honestly never forget the day he met the world’s dumbest and most hypocritical girl in the world. He wanted to go home now, get away from this girl.

Callen turned onto his stomach and pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. He finally stood and looked down at the red head still lying there motionless. He sneered and turned to walk back home where he could shower and rest. It was too bad he wouldn’t be able to sleep because he could really use it right now. Every step he took seemed like he caught his breath more and more. Finally, he was able to breathe steadily, normally. As he was walking, he noticed something black on the ground. He stopped and kneeled down to look at it closely. It was her gun. He almost laughed with irony. Callen picked up her nine caliber gun and turned to face her. “This is rich.” He said with a devilish grin. Without warning he threw it up high into the air and made it shatter in the air, sending shrapnel everywhere. One piece his him in the shoulder, but the rest fell much farther out. He turned and began walking again with a small sense of satisfaction.

[brynn abigail foster]

The second he rolled onto his back, Abbie leapt to her feet, warily watching him try to catch his breath for a moment before inching away. She scooped up her bag for what felt like the millionth time that night, and glanced over her shoulder to where she'd left the man, but he was no longer there. She wheeled around nervously, bracing herself for another attack, but instead, finding him holding her gun with a triumphant little smirk.
Before she could utter a nervous question, up went the gun, and with a bang like the Fourth of July, down fell the shrapnel.
She half-ducked-half-fell to the ground, pieces of metal lodging in her skin."FUCK!" she screamed, punching the ground beside her as she shoved herself back to her feet. She turned to face him, fury in her eyes. "Why the-" She started to shout after him, but clamped her mouth shut and breathed in sharply. Yelling was obviously of no use, and as great as it would feel to blow up at him, her extremities blowing up wasn't worth twenty seconds of screaming. Besides, she noted, her throat had taken enough of a beating for one night.
She looked frustratedly at the shards of metal jutting from her arms and legs. Luckily, nothing seemed to have gone deeper than a particularly unpleasant sliver would, but that didn't make it any more comfortable. After double checking her (relative) safety again, she decided that for now, it would be easier to stop the bleeding if she just left the shrapnel where it was, and that she'd deal with it when she had some peace an quiet and a box of band-aids. Preferably of the superhero variety.
It was with a grimace that she shouldered her duffel bag and set off walking in the same direction as her would-be enemy. As for now, she had no idea what they were to each other, be it enemies, allies, or indifferent. Her feelings were certainly mixed. So she stayed several yards behind him, walking quietly through the now-still night.

[callen lee jones]

How the fuck did he get himself into these kinds of situations?¬ It was seriously beginning to piss him off even more than he already was. He couldn’t seem to keep himself out of some type of spotlight for more than thirty minutes before another one decided to come along and shine on him. He really hated that he was in this situation with a gifted person, too. Really, he would much rather have someone that had no idea about his world so when he told them—or showed them, rather, they were scared so much that they almost shit themselves. He hated that she had some kind of power over him (not that he would ever verbally admit that little fact). He was much too prideful to ever admit that someone could be more powerful than him…no, that a woman could do it. And not only a woman, but one with fiery red hair that didn’t even know how to aim a damn gun well enough to kill him.

When the shards of the handgun had all finally fallen, he had already started walking back towards his house and he ignored her from there on out. Or tried to at least. He could hear her footsteps behind him, but didn’t bother turning to her and asking what she was doing following him. he waited until he finally saw his house down the hill and across the dirt road to finally turn around suddenly and glare at her. “What are you doing?” he asked between clenched teeth. He would be damned if she ever found out where he lived. Even though they weren’t really enemies (he honestly had absolutely no clue as to what they were), he still didn’t want a stranger that had tried to kill him to know his location. For all he knew, the bitch could slip up and tell someone where he lived or someone could even make her tell them. It was one thing he was afraid of, having someone make him talk about everything he had been through and everyone that he had killed. After all of this, he still didn’t have the satisfaction he wanted. He doubted that he would ever have it. At least that was until he finally killed the head of Alticor,

[/justify]

[brynn abigail foster]

Abbie trudged along behind him, cringing with each step that jostled the little piece of metal in her thigh. She tried her best to ignore the pain, thinking instead of far more mundane things, like the grocery list on the fridge, or the basketball game tomorrow night. Anything to keep her thoughts from the shrapnel she was carefully rerouting her bloodflow around. She was in a trance-like state as she limped along, hardly knowing where she was going until more harsh words were spat in her face.
"What are you doing?!" She could practically feel his glare on her, as if it were a physical thing. Her concentration broke only for a split second, but that was all it took. Blood started to trickle down her cheek, then down her arms and legs, a wet spot forming below the tear in her shirt as well.
"Dammit," she muttered, stoppering herself up again and quickly increasing the white blood cells in her system. "Oh," she mumbled, trying to fix herself and form an answer to his question at the same time. "I need to get back into town so-" she came to a dead stop, the color draining from her face. "Oh no." she whispered. After she'd either killed or captured the man, she was going to call Alticor to pick them up, just as protocol said she should. When she'd made her plans, she'd accounted for either her bringing him down, or being blown to pieces trying. Either way, she wasn't going to have to arrange a ride ahead of time. "I.. I don't have a way to get home." she said softly. She stared at the ground for a moment, her mind whirling. There wouldn't be any taxis out in a small town this late at night, and she certainly couldn't walk to a bus stop in this condition. She could hotwire a car, but Alticor usually covered that sort of thing up for her, and there was no way she could explain her situation to them.
Her options were growing more and more limited, and it was coming down to something she really didn't want to do.
She considered the puppy eyes for a moment, but figured he would see right through the crap. Instead, she braced herself for the worst, and blurted, "Do you- could I have a ride into the city? Please?"