Magic Storm

Chapter 2- things that go Crash in the night

The window shattered as a boy with messy black hair crash through it, shattering glass everywhere, and the boy ended up trapped in the thick red curtain that covered the window. Storm was awake almost instantaneously, her gold eyes flared with the sense of danger. She moved silently towards the struggling figure that had just crashed through the left window.

Inside the curtain the boy was struggling wildly and coughing because of all the dust coming off the old curtain. Finally he heaved himself out of the red velvet curtain and out into the old, cluttered, library. Tired and exhausted from running the boy took a few steps before collapsing on his back in front of Storm.

Storm took a moment to asses the intruder. The boy was around 16 her age, a tad taller than her, had messy black hair that stuck out in random directions,he wore a pair of ripped-up baggy pants and a baggy black shirt. But what Storm found most surprising was the pair of sparking cobalt blue eyes that she found staring back into her own wolf gold ones.

Just then the sounds of gunshots and shouts made Storm look away from the cobalt blue eyes of the boy. But she didn't even have to ask to know, this boy had brought The Nonsalvationer's lead killers to her house, she felt her blood run colder than liquid nitrogen. The Nonsalvationer's lead killers were called the head-choppers, their leader was called The Chop. The head-choppers were ruthless killers that were also the best trackers in the country, they were feared by every-one. Once the head-choppers were sent to kill you there was no escape, they would find you and they would kill you. Storm knew the head-choppers had taken her parents and The-Chop had been in charge of killing them.

Natural instinct told Storm to run, flee, scream, hide, freak out, anything but stay put. She pushed those instincts down and tried to remember all the preparation she had made in case something like this happened. Tapping into her inner survival skills Storm knew to move fast, leave nothing to chance, and leave no one to tell of her existence.

Storm glanced down at the boy, she knew she didn't have the heart to kill him, so he would have to come with her. Storm snapped int action then grabbing her small book bag and stuffing it with things she would need. She tossed in a dozen or more wheat cakes, two cups, a set of matches, a couple of jars filled with survival and battle charms, a couple of spell books and magic books, and the old magic book that she had hidden the ring in. She also tossed on a couple of shirts she could use for bandages.Upon her return from running all over her house for supplies, she was surprised to see the boy standing up and hobbling towards her, he wasn't putting weight on his left leg.

"I..... There's the head-choppers coming... you....run", The odd boy managed to say between ragged breaths.

"It's okay. Come on we have to get out of here", Storm coaxed.

Then Storm moved next to the boy and put her right arm around his waist to help support him. The boy put his left arm around his neck and the two of them quickly hobbled towards the door. Storm pushed the door open and the two of them hobbled out of house 412 and into the thundering rain. Soon the pair was at a hobbled run as they darted down the dirt path that led to the bridge.

Storm's heart pounded heavily in her chest as she tried to help the boy keep up as they ran towards the bridge. Storm heard the voices behind her become louder every passing second, she couldn't move fast enough, she knew they would never make it to the bridge in time. Storm  could feel the ground shake as the head-choppers approached and she knew her only choice was to hide. Using her free hand she whipped rain from her face and pushed the boy into the brush lining the path. Storm let her force carry her into the bushes along with the boy.

They both hit the ground with a soft thud and lay still, neither daring to make a sound in case the head-choppers heard it. Storm could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she lay on the rain soaked ground, surrounded by dozens of thorn, berry, bramble, and other odd bushes. The trees were only a couple of feet from where she lay, but any movement now would easily alert the head-choppers, so instead Storm lay deathly still barely daring to breath.

Storm listened to the pounding of the head-choppers feet as they neared their hiding spot. In her head she tried to calculate her chance of living, which was decreasing every second. 98%.... 83%.... 76%..... 49%..... 31%....

12%...

They had a 12% chance of living, and the percent slowly decreased as the thudding of the head-choppers steadily grew louder...