Wow. I'm amazed. It's been five years and there have only been twenty missions, twelve close-calls, and three deaths. This calls for a celebration. Later.
Right now it's time I have to tell you another story. I had a hunch that you guys just wouldn't be satisfied with the stories of our heros' beginning spy adventures. I was right, as always. I've been getting loads of fan-mail stating that the reader's favorite part of my books was when Elijah was shirtless. I can't blame you.
It's now time to tell the tale of another member of our favorite spy squad. I, of course, am talking about none other than Isaiah. You know, the little brother. The boy-genius. The cute little 5 year old you all had grown to love. Well, he's back, and better than ever. Maybe.
All I know is that the boy definitely has even more snarky and sarcastic dialect with him. You can count that as a fact. And you all know how Isaiah loves facts.
~~~~i~~~~
If you, the reader, happen to have not read my first books about the Spy Squad, then I should probably set a scene for you:
It was a Saturday, if I do recall. October 9th. You know, Lief Erikson Day. The year was 2021.
Imagine New York City. You know, tall buildings, busy streets, sidewalks on both sides of a street no matter where. Now imagine it after doomsday. Okay, so it technically wasn't doomsday, but, you know, the city was literally in ruins. The tall buildings were chipping away and all shades of gray. The busy streets were now littered with broken-down old cars, the sidewalks cracked and crumbling at the corners into piles of big cement chips. The sky was always gray, no matter what time of year, no matter what time of day. Except at night, when the sky is so black a single light on the street seems like some sort of unnatural, alien substance. And no mater where you are in the city, the buildings around you seem to be a sort of barrier, like a tall, gray, decaying wall.
You'd have to be either really stupid or just plain crazy to still be living there. The first hint that you shouldn't be there would have to be the miscellaneous bullet marks you'll find on cars, sides of buildings, trash cans, etc. Obvious remnants of good ol' gun battles. They're really popular, you see.
Let's pretend that you're watching this as a movie, it'll make things a whole lot easier. The camera is just filming the run-down street, when all of a sudden, you hear the pitter-patter of feet running. You hear the footsteps sloshing through puddles, jumping over debris, pounding harder when running. The camera angles downwards and you see four pairs of running feet. Feet with legs. Feet with legs with hips. Feet with legs with hips connected to torsos, which attach to necks, then heads. Until you see four shadow-consumed figures running through the streets like an obstacle course. A very dangerous one.
You probably are wondering who these mysterious figures are. So I'll tell you.
The tallest one is a man named David. He has spiky-cut dark hair, but we'll call it deep brown. His eyes are hazel, though you wouldn't be able to tell from the view the stupid camera's giving you. His tan skin is obviously paling from being in the dark New York for such a while now. He moves quickly for such a tall strong guy like himself.
The next is the leader of this small pack. It's Elijah. His once ebony black hair has toned down a bit to a duller type of color, but nonetheless black. His blue eyes pop out because of all the black he's wearing. He's not as tall as David, but he's just as strong. You can't really tell he's all that muscular when he has loose clothing on, but when he's shirtless (which is actually quite often), you'll clearly see his very noticeable abs. He tries not to brag, but you have a body as good as his, it's a shame to watch it go unnoticed.
