Dawn's Pendant

10| route one

For a while, she stood where she was making sure she wasn't imagining anything. Her hands were engulfed in fire, red as blood and spewing wild from her pores. She didn't know where this power came from nor how to put it out. The best thing she decided to do was to stay calm and find a pile of snow. She ran to an old pile already mixed with nature's debris and plunged her hands into it. The sizzling in response sent a shiver up her arms. The snow eventually melted into water and soaked into the soil.

"Oh. My. Goodness?"

She leaned against a tree still feeling the hot energy swarming through her veins. Exhaustion claimed her muscles. Her dry eyes stared horrified at the driver Bart now a skeletal body burnt to crisps and ash.

I just killed a man! Her heart skipped with panic prepared to leave her hanging. She leaned her head against the tree to recollect her thoughts and whereabouts. The winter's chill began to bite at her cooled down fingertips.

"I need to get out of here," she croaked, but she couldn't move.

A buzzing sound seeped into the wood's silence. She tripled froze, expecting to see another goon appear out of nowhere with a gun locked and loaded to finish her off. Then, she spotted where it was coming from. The gunman's pocket. She climbed onto her feet and approached the unconscious gunman. She scrunched her nose at her handprints embedded in his coat and blistered chest. A faint line of smoke lifted from the bloody wound giving a burnt flesh odor that made her stomach churn.

I did that!

Fear and concern clashed, but she reminded herself that she was still in danger. Plus, he had shot her friend in cold blood and shouldn't receive a hint of her concern.

Quickly, to redirect the sudden need to vomit, she searched him for the cellphone and pulled out a tracker phone. She stood and read the identification: PRIVATE CALLER. She pressed the answer button and placed the phone to an ear. Holding her breathe, she waited for her kidnapper's boss to speak. Instead, the person was smarter than she expected for they said nothing. Just the distant sound of breathing was on the other end until they hung up.

The unconscious gunman began to stir and moan. She grabbed the velvet bag and sprinted back towards the car. As she hid behind a clutter of brush, the gunman woke up screaming in pain. Not wasting any time, she dialed 911.

"Hello, dispatch, what is your situation?"

"Hi, um is there some way I can get in contact with an agent in the CIA?"

"Excuse me?"

Christina massaged her aching forehead glaring at the gunman as he pressed a hand to his wound to stop the bleeding, grabbed his gun, and stumbled back to the car.

"I need help," she said.

"What is your name, miss?"

"My name is Christina, Christina Ammeen. Some men they-,"

"Wait did you just say Christina Ammeen?"

"Yes."

After a short pause the woman spoke, "An abduction report has been placed a few hours ago from... the CIA," the lady said with a bit of astonishment. "Can you please tell me your location? Are you with your kidnappers?"

"Um," she said watching the gunman grunt in pain and slide into the driver's seat. "He's leaving. He's injured."

"What happened to him?"

"Um."

I burnt him with my own hands, she wanted to say, but knew it would only make her sound crazy.