The TALONS Files: the chronicles of telepathic agent Ryan Dart

Not the Reception Ryan Was Expecting

4

Ryan closed the phone app and pondered the possible contraptions that Damon would dream up alone. In an instant, he shook his head as if to recover from a heavy blow. He had to think about what just happened. An envelope lied menacingly over his research paper's notes. Hopefully, there was an address written on it.

As if saving it from hot coals, Ryan quickly swept the letter from his seat. While he scoped the paper for an address, the weather fell into full typhoon mode. He ignored the tempest, searching for a place to deliver this envelope. Luckily, there was an address written in, what appeared to be, tidy female penmanship. The broad strokes of a sharpie were indecipherable, especially in the dimness of the darkened lot.

A memory suddenly caused panic; his mind recalled a time in middle school, when he stole a lunch from a kid. The brat was notorious for stealing lunches. The kid had also called Ryan 'Psycho' often. So, when Ryan saw the chance, after the child had nearly brought Ryan to the point of tears , Ryan stole a paper bag from the brat, and ran to the playground with it. When Ryan opened the bag, he discovered a bottle of prescription medication. The deed had earned him detention.

'What if I was wrong, and the card isn't in the envelope?' Racing his hands over the paper, he definitely felt the outline of a small SD card inside. His instincts served him well this time.

However, as he squinted and tried to hold the envelope at the best angle, hoping to catch the Street lamps rays, which were heavily distorted by the water logged windshield, he couldn't make out the address. In a flash, he cursed his shaken wits, 'what am I dumb?' and turned the dome light on. "There," he said aloud.

"114 Conesta Drive." The area was relatively close, although Ryan wasn't exactly sure where Conesta Drive was.

As Ryan entered the address in his phone, the car rocked with the gusts that drove sheets of rain against the car. Lightning flashes burst frequently as, at times, a flurry of bolts stretched through the sky. Sometimes the claps of thunder were deafening, as the longer rumbles reverberated through the car.

He debated whether he should wait, allowing the storm to blow through. Sighing, he figured it couldn't hurt. Little did he know, that would be a huge mistake.

As he waited, he checked himself in the mirror, as he had calmed for the time being. His appearance was roughly how he felt inside most of the time. He was frail and his slender face suffered from light acne. His hair was dark brown and short, save for long curls that ran along his neck, which contradicted his sapphire eyes. He was slightly taller than most kids his age, however, he was by no means imposing or threatening. Basically, he appeared that if mother nature kicked up a windstorm, like she had today, he'd be subject to being thrown about. That was exactly how he felt when approaching certain cliques in the halls of his high school.

As he waited for the rain to subside, he decided to phone his mother.

The phone rang a few times, and then she picked up, "What is it?"

She didn't sound harsh, but it just wasn't the pleasant tone he was used to. The sound of his mother's greeting turned Ryan sheepish, "I...I just called to tell you I'm a little late."

"Just trying you're new phone out, are you?" Her rigid voice cut through the storm's noise easily.

Ryan shook his head and sighed. "Seriously, I have to run an errand."

His mom's tone changed into concern. "An errand, at nine at night? What's wrong?"

His mother would freak out, had she known the truth. "Nothing's wrong, I just, well, I have some business to take care of."

"Ryan, you're sixteen years old. What kind of business do you have? God, you're not off buying something else now, are you?"

"No," Ryan said. "I'll explain when I get home. Trust me, You'll be proud of me."

There was silence on the other line, then she conceded in a very unsure voice. "well, Okay, 10:45, no later."

"Should work, See you then."

The rain slowed and, as Ryan placed the phone on his vent mount, he focused.

"It's simple," He said aloud to himself, "You go up to the house, knock on the door and explain, to whoever she is, that you received this in the mail."

He shoved the Impala in drive and crept from the parking lot, not realizing that his actions this night had already changed his life. Unfortunately, at this moment, he was making a glaring error.

* * *

When Ryan rolled through Conesta Drive, he caught notice of a running car parked on the street. It was a Mercedes, and as he passed it, no longer paying attention to maps, who indicated he had arrived at his destination, he noticed an enterprise rental car sticker on the back. He also caught sight of the slender greaseball behind the wheel. 'That's why they didn't chase me.' He thought 'They anticipated this move. I should have drove in the rain, I gave them a chance to get to the house. 'Fortunately, as he passed by, they didn't recognize him.

He glanced at the house and decided he needed a better approach. It was a little nuts, but he had to do it. He parked the car around the block, slipped the envelope in his hoodie pocket and started sneaking through back yards. Some of the lawns were pretty soggy from the heavy rains.  Others had fences around the back yard.  In one particular yard, an angry dog gave chase, as Ryan had jumped the fence.  The whole neighborhood was filled with the clamor of barking dogs.

Ryan ignored the raucous chorus, as he had reached the house, or at least he thought it was the house. The patio door opened to a back deck. He could see, by way of the glass doors, that there was an empty kitchen with lights aglow beyond the deck. He had a plan, he would simply knock on the back door and hand the woman the disc. She might be a little startled, but hey, it would be mission accomplished.

He sifted through the grass as the wind had become noticeably cooler. His eardrums were actually becoming sore from the cold winds. He debated whether he should raise his hoodie, but decided that would look too villainous. He grabbed the letter as he reached the stairs of the deck.

That's when he heard it. Something jostled a bush behind him. The next thing he knew, he heard a loud shriek. After that, his head felt the force of something metal colliding with his skull. The world spun and he could feel himself falling. He went unconscious before he hit the ground.