The Young Blood Chronicles

The Phoenix

Patrick's hand trembled slightly; he was biting his lip as he flipped the lock on the silver briefcase open. Him and the guys had no idea what was inside, just that it was important. Important enough to be in a locked briefcase AND to cause an army of God knows who or what to come after them. But they were stuck with it now. There was no turning back.

"Are you sure you don't want to just take it to the police, guys?" Patrick's hand was resting on the handle, about to pry it open. "We can't get into any more trouble."

Pete sighed, rolling his eyes. "C'mon, just open it. It can't be too bad."

"Yeah, if it's not big or anything we can just take it to the station." Joe piped up.

Patrick glanced at Andy, who simply shrugged. The singer exhaled, before reluctantly lifting his hand up, opening the briefcase. Almost instantly, Patrick's eyes narrowed due to the bright light.

"Holy shit!" Patrick heard Pete exclaim as his eyes began to adjust. Patrick rose his hand to his mouth in shock. This was too important to leave to the authorities. They would have to take it to Brendon to see what he knew (he was the person who told them about the briefcase in the first place).

With all of the boys still in shock, Patrick slammed the case shut and the room dimmed. "We have to take it to Brendon."

"Yup."

"I'll do it." Pete volunteered, but Andy shook his head.

"Nah, you'll make it obvious that you're carrying something of value." The redhead looked over to Patrick, who was still wide-eyed. "Patrick? How about you?"

He looked down quickly, but nodded his head. "Yeah, that seems best." Patrick looked up and reached his arm out to grab the briefcase, but Pete grabbed his wrist.

"Hold on." Pete darted out of the room, and for a minute left the three remaining in silence. The moments went by slowly, each millisecond seeming like thirty. But Pete came back with silver handcuffs clinking in his hand. "It's so they can't take it from you."

Joe scoffed. "Why do you have handcuffs?"

Pete barely paid attention, unlocking the cuffs and attaching one to the briefcase. He opened the other one and put it around Patrick's left wrist. "You don't wanna know."

Patrick took another deep breath, his left hand gripping the handle of the cold metal case. He nodded to the guys. "I'll take it over to Brendon. Text you when I get it to him."

"Good plan."

"And if something goes wrong?" Andy asked worriedly, his eyes flashing over to Patrick, and then the case.

Pete looked up and sighed. "You'll know. I'll send the bird. Keep an eye out for it."

Andy breathed out and nodded. "Go," he told Patrick.

Patrick curved his lips slightly, sliding the briefcase off the table, his body tilting slightly at the added weight. His eyes darted back up to the boys. "Wish me luck."

--OoO--OoO--

Patrick's heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest as he speed-walked down the pavement, his ankles beginning to get weak. His left hand- now anxious and shaking- held onto the briefcase handle for dear life, and he began to break out into a sweat on his forehead.

The neighborhood was unusually silent. All of the other times when he would walk through the small development the kids rode their bikes, played kickball in the streets, doodled all over their driveways with sidewalk chalk. His ears would be filled with the sounds of children shouting scores and bike chains creaking. But nobody could be seen- or heard today.