The Dark Hunters

Chapter 18

Livy POV

"Kid. Hey kid. KID! Liv wake up."
A rough shaking brought me to my senses.

I slowly open my eyes part way and see a blurry shape holding my shoulders.
"Dave." I manage to say.

"Good god." He says. "YOU HAD ME SCARED THERE."

I wince as the loud Dave comes back, but I give him a weak smile.

A voice I have become so familiar with, runs through my mind.

Midnight. We will run. To be together. Leave it all behind. Tonight. Sacrifice we will have to make.

My eyes fly open all the way. "Dave. Help me up."
"Ok kid. Slow down."

He grabs my hand and pulls me to my feet. I slump onto his shoulder as the blood rushes to my head. So dizzy. I put my hand to my head and Dave throws my other arm over his shoulder.

I leaned on him for a bit then forced myself away.

"Whoa kid. Take it easy."

He looks at me funny. He's finally noticed how hurt and bloodied I should be.

"Uh kid? Are you alright? How are you not like- almost dead."

Okay, time to go.

I pushed Dave down to the ground as hard as I could without losing balance, whispering, "I'm so sorry."
And I run. As fast as I can.
I jump over a log and wipe away a tear, as I ignore Dave's calls for me to come back.

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I don't know how long I have been running. But I haven't stopped.
The sky has turned a hazely gold. The sun is setting.

By the time I reach my house, night has fallen.

I quickly reach into my pocket and pull out my house keys. I shove the key in the lock and turn it.

A cold wave blasts me as I enter my house. I don't even take my shoes off.
I just slam the door behind me, and double- no triple bolt the door. Dave is bound to tell security I've run away. Then it won't take long for them to come here, and arrest me. I don't know how much time I have before they come banging on my door. All I know is, not long.

I race up the stairs to the third floor of my house. My room.

I dash in, and open my my closet, and pull out my backpack. A full, dark gray backpack. With a ton of hidden compartments on the inside. This is the first backpack I ever got as a Dark Hunter. On my first mission. When I was fifteen. Those were the good days. Not a care in the world. Nothing mattered to me when I was fifteen. Nothing but my job.

And to think, someone had been fancying me since I had arrived at the Dak Hunter agency.

Braden.

I push away the memories and grab some clothes. I put them into the big pocket of the backpack.

I look over at my desk and stop. On my desk is a picture of me, my mom, and my little brother, Kyle. Dad took the photo of us. I took it out a while ago. I must have forgotten to put it away. It should be in the family containment.

I rush to my closet and move all of the clothes and all the other crap I have in there, out of the way.

I trace my fingers along the wall, searching for a small indent. I find it.

I press the invisible button. A little section in the back of my closet, pops open. I gasp. All my family's heirlooms are gone.

Every Dark Hunter has these. Pictures, objects, feelings, even memories. We bottle them up and keep them in family containments. They hold all our- well our EVERYTHING that has to do with our families.

Each containment is stored in each of the Dark Hunter's houses. All in different places. Mine just happened to be in my closet.

We're not supposed to remember our families. Once we get chosen to be a Dark Hunter, we must forget anything and everything from our lives before- well, ALL OF THIS.

But I know. I know what my family is doing. I know how my family is doing. I know.

It is called an Unveiler. It's a small black sphere. About the size of my hand. I don't keep the Unveiler in my family containment though. I keep it with me. Always.

I reach into my pocket and take it out. I roll the raven-black sphere in my hand.

Unveilers are extremely rare, and hard to come by. I'm lucky I have one. The truth is, my mom gave it to me. Jessamine Foster. That is my mom's name. My dad is Thomas Foster. My younger brother is Kyle Foster.

The Unveiler can show you any person in the universe. Even people in another dimension.

I hold the sphere close to my lips and whisper, "Show me Braden Williams." I close my eyes, and when I open them, I see him. There. In the dark. Running through the thick green undergrowth. He is sweating, and carrying a backpack. He's muttering thoughts under his breath as he runs.

He's in a pale orange T-shirt and denim jeans.

I rub my palm lightly over the sphere and the image of Braden disappears.
I lay the Unveiler on the bed.

I shove the photo of my family, a hair brush, tooth paste and a toothbrush, into the back pack.

I walk back over to my closet, and I grab my black leggings, my one strap, black, war shirt, and my dark blue sweater.

The black war shirt covers my chest, and a black strap-like thing, covers part of my stomach, runs along my hip, and around my back, connecting with the top once more. Leaving the rest of my stomach and back bare.

I slip on my leggings, and grab a pair of knee high socks. I slip them on, and pull the dark blue sweater over my head. I pull on my knee high, high heeled, black boots. Each heel could extend a small knife. Luckily, they are good for running in too.

I walk back to my closet, pick out a wad of clothes, and chuck it into the bag.

I finally walk over to my weapons closet. I pull open the gray double doors, and sigh. I love my weapons closet. It's full of all my favorite weapons and fighting materials.
I just got the latest upgrade on it too.
I pull out two, foot long blades and slip them into each of my boots. Next, I pull out some kind of forearm blade holders. I am always forgetting what they are called. Some kind of cool fancy name that I can't remember.

My weapon of choice would be a bow and quiver though, but when fighting you never show your greatest strength. I figure I will make my own bow and quiver if needed.

I pull up the sleeves of my sweater and I secure each of those holders on each forearm, and slip a blade in each. I pull the sleeves back over the holders. I grab my black weapons belt and fasten it around my waist. There are three different compartments in my belt. One on the back, and two on each side.
I quickly put a couple mini bombs in one, and two communicators (walkie talkies) in another. Leaving the last compartment empty. I put a smaller blade in a loop in my belt, and not all too gently, I shove my sword in the other loop.

I wince as the sword cuts my leg. I swear softly, for forgetting to put the sheath on.

Suddenly, I remember my battle with Peter. How I absorbed some of his power.......

I put the sheath on my sword and I carefully sit down on the bed. I move my hand over the cut. I imagine it healing itself. I gasp in amazement as the cut magically sews itself back together. Using my finger like a needle, I hover my finger over the cut, and I sew it together.

I stare at the rip in my leggings.

The blood rushes to my head as I stand up. I only feel a little dizzy this time. I remember the weariness I had after I healed myself the first time. This time it's not as bad.