Instinct

Chapter 1

I fumbled with the business card that was in the pocket of my sweatshirt. The sharp corner on the small card dug into the flesh of my thumb, leaving a small trail of blood behind. My hand instinctively jerked back from the painful sting of the paper cut and I pulled my hands out of my pockets to suck on the wound. It had been days since I had received the peculiar card, and I had not dared to call the number printed on the bottom, but was intrigued enough to always have it with me.

I opened the old wooden door in the back of the craft store and walked into the staff room to clock in and change into my uniform, which consisted of a disgustingly vomit green polo shirt, khaki pants and a tan colored apron. I said a quick hello to the store manager who was in charge of today's shift and settled in behind the counter putting on my best smile as customers began to stroll in. A women in her early thirties came rushing over to the counter I stood behind. She had this look in her eyes of panic and excitement.

She didn't seem to be married, for she didn't have a ring, but her age suggested that she has settled down into a relationship. Based on the expensive purse she carried, which stuck out like a sore thumb between her cheap casual clothes and her laid back vibe, I confirmed my thought on her relationship status for only a boyfriend would get a girl an expensive purse out of a desperate need for a anniversary present.

She didn't seem that artistic so I curious about why she was in the craft store. But from the look in her eyes I assumed she was probably babysitting a niece or nephew and needed something to occupy them with. The excitement in her eyes made me think that she has always wanted a family and that hopefully taking care of the kids would convince her partner to take the next step in the relationship and even try to have some kids.

I am pretty good at learning a lot about a person by one glad or interaction, however I wouldn't say I am always spot on. 7/10 times I am correct though, and this time I am right again.

Before she even has time to open her mouth I point her in the direction of the children's crafts. She takes a look at where I am pointing and nodded her head as a thank you before rushing over to the aisle.

Once she was out of sight I turned around and leaned against the counter, I had only been at work for 20 minutes and yet my feet were already killing me. I took out my phone to see if anyone had messaged me, and of course no one had. I didn't have any friends at school and if my Nanna needed me she would just call. I stuck my phone back into my pocket and my fingers grazed against the card once again. I decided to examine it, running my fingers over the crisp black ink and along the tattered corners the card had from being shoved in my pocket.

Wanting to know more about the mysterious card I decided to do some research. I pulled up Google into the cashier computer (the Internet use on the computers was for checking coupons and sales through out the store chain) and typed in the area code of the number at the bottom 703. The results from Google said it was the area code for Northern Virginia. That information didn't help at all so I did some more research and looked up ECPT, Google directed me to an article about a new FBI program that had a lot of controversy. The article talked about how the ECPT or the Elite Criminal Profiling Team, should be shut down for the members of the project were all teenagers and exposed to the horrifying cases of serial murderers.

Everything started to make sense, from the area code which I assume is from Quantico Virginia, where the FBI headquarters is located, and this new information about the ECPT. But why me, why was I picked out to be recruited for this "elite" team. I wasn't special, I was nobody. I was just a sad girl who is still grieving over her mothers death, what do I have to offer the FBI.

"Excuse me? I've been waiting to be checked out for like 10 minutes." Laughing, a voice on the other side of the counter said, "are you high or something, you've been staring at the screen forever and I don't think I've seen you blink once" the voice said in a amused tone.

"What? um sorry just one second," I said while quickly closing down the browser and pulling myself together, putting on a fake smile. "How can I help you" I looked up to see a boy around my age standing across the counter. He was tall and fairly skinny, his blond hair was swooped over the side in an emo fringe and he wore a striped sweater with some dark blue jeans. He had piercing blue eyes that looked back at me with concern.

"Are you okay?" The boy said, knitting his eyebrows closer together, in concentration.

I widened my smile trying to make it as convincing as I could, "I'm fine sir, is this all you're buying?" I said in a cheerful voice scanning the notebook and pens the attractive boy purchased.

"Uh yup, just this" he said still staring at me with intense concentration, and not quite believing my lies.

"Your total is $16.90, would you like to sign up for our rewards program? You get 10% your next purchase for just signing up"

"Do I look like the crafting type to you?" He said lifting one eyebrow up in amusement. "I know you can tell I don't craft." He said as he handed me his credit card.

"You're right. You wouldn't be someone who crafts, it's just something we all have to say,"

"Well what do you think I like to do then?" He said daring me, as if he knew I would get it wrong.

"I-I don't know." I said handing him back his debut card. I had just realized that I couldn't read him like I could others. He was a complete mystery. I handed him his receipt and a pen to sign with.

He took the pen, his long fingers grazed the top of my hand, sending shivers down my spine, The boy swiftly signed the bottom of the receipt.

I handed him his bag and said "thank you for shopping at Candy's crafts, we hope to see you soon," he gave me a lopsided grin and put two fingers to his forehead as a solute before walking through the front doors.

I looked down at the signed receipt, in messy half cursive have print writing was the mysterious boy's name, Luke Hemmings. I looked further down the paper to see he had written something at the bottom. It said.

You should really call Agent Irwin, it will be good for you. P.s. Maybe work harder on our fake smile, it looks too, well fake.

My heart started to race and I felt sick. How did he know about the card?