Crossfire

Chapter 1

Gunshots rang out steadily in one of the unkempt backstreets, situated in the fishing town of Oric. Fallon Hudson was crouched behind her wounded Dodge Neon, shivering from both the biting night air and the icy flush of fear.

She tugged the black cardigan on her shaking shoulders tighter around herself and wished she'd brought her cellphone, which was still sitting idly on the kitchen table, same as when it had been given to her.

The sky turned to pitch black, dotted with white stars, but the moon was covered in think grey clouds. Puzzled, Fallon recalled the events that had her hiding behind her stingy old car, in the firing range of men with guns.

Fallon had finished up her late night shift at the Lookout port supermarket, just outside of Oric. Luckily it wasn't a school night, as her mother would have told her off for being out so late.

She'd fueled up the Neon at a Seven Eleven, before deciding to take the back streets home because they were considerably quicker.

Now, she'd regretted her decision, caught in the middle of what looked like a territorial gang fight with a bullet lodged in her front left tire.

Fallon was stuck, cornered with few options of escape. On one hand, she could rise from crouching position and ask politely to be able to go. A bullet ricocheted off the dusty warehouse behind her.

Definitely not a smart idea. On the other hand, she could attempt to change the tire and drive off. Either way, she was going no-where with a punctured tire.

The men were shouting now, in a strange and distant language. She see there were four shooters in dark clothing, hiding behind dumpsters and empty oil drums on the far side of the alley. All of them shared a fair complexion and a multitude of tattoos.

On the side closet to her, there were six olive skinned men with dark cropped hair. Fallon barely made there faces out, they were ducking and weaving behind buildings and abandoned vehicles.

They were closing in on the middle of the back street, were the Neon was pinned against a wall. One of the fair skinned men stepped forward, light hair and crooked teeth. A black snake tattoo coiled up his neck.

Then man shouted out sentences in the foreign language Fallon had heard earlier, and she recognized it almost instantly from the last holiday she'd taken with her parents as a family.

They were speaking Italian, rather yelling it at each other. The fair skinned man was taunting his opposition. A single shot fired from one of the olive skinned men wearing a red blazer.

Fallon shrieked, but at the last second muffled it with the sleeve of her cardigan. The fair skinned man fell in a heap onto the pavement, a dark liquid pooling around his chest. They hadn't seemed to notice Fallon's muffled cry, but one olive skinned man wearing a baseball cap had turned his gaze to the Neon.

Fallon pulled herself as far as she could behind the Neon, the wall pushing against her back. Several more shots sounded, and Fallon felt as if she would never escape, especially if the man in the baseball cap were to tell his friends.

Perhaps he would have mistaken the shriek of that of an animal, but she knew the chances were extremely slim.

Screeching tires caught her attention, another vehicle came to a halt beside the Neon, the roar of the motor was unmistakable.

A shadowed figure crept closer the Fallon, careful on conceal themselves. A large hand covered her mouth. Fallon's heart went from zero to sixty. She struggled fiercely as they other hand of her attacker lifter her off the ground with ease.

Fallon screamed as she heard the bullets whizzing past her ear. She was shoved into the passenger seat of a black Mustang.

Before Fallon could even probe her joints to move, the man in the baseball cap floored the gas, wheeling the Mustang out of the backstreet and onto the highway.

Fallon grabbed for the door handle, adrenaline pulsing through her veins like fire. Even though the speedo sat at a hundred kilometers an hour, she wanted out of this car and away from the stranger whom sat in the drivers seat.

The door was locked, courtesy of an electronic auto-lock on the drivers side.

"Who are you?" Fallon said, panic climbing the back of her throat.

The man pulled the cap from his head and raked a hair through his hair. Fallon noticed that he wasn't a man at all, he could not be more than two years older than herself.

Dark disheveled black hair, olive skin and deep brown eyes that flicked to her a few times. The boy smirked slightly.

"I think I'm the guy that just saved your life," he said, in a deep smooth tone, with a hint of accent.

The Mustang rounded a corner, silence filled the cab as Fallon deliberated what to do next.

"You need to turn around. I have to go back for the Neon," Fallon said and she meant it.

The check for this weeks wage was sitting in the glove box, and the keys still hung in the ignition.

The Neon had taken Fallon three years to save up for.

"Forget it. I'm not going back into an active gunfight for your car," he said, agitation lacing his voice, "Just what in hell were you doing anyway, charging into the alley like that?"

Fallon gulped, she really hadn't tried to find trouble tonight, but it was to late for that now.

They were nearing a red light and the boy handed her his baseball cap.

"Pull it over your eyes," he said commandingly.

Fallon accepted the cap.

"Why?" she asked timidly.

"Red light camera. You really don't want those guys from the alley coming after you," he replied, pulling up the Mustang.

Fallon did as she was asked, and they were off again. The boy reached into the back of the car and pulled out a bottle of water. He uncapped it and held it out to Fallon.

If only she wasn't so thirsty, she may have rethought her decision. Fallon gulped the water down greedily.

"Where do you live?" he asked, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the road.

Fallon didn't like the idea of giving a gun wielding criminal her home address, but otherwise she would have no way to get home, considering the other option was walking.

"Shoreline drive," she said quietly, looking out the window.

Soon enough the Mustang pulled into her neighborhood, Fallon directed him into the driveway of a small two story house with white paint and blue balconies.

The boy cut the Mustangs motor. All the lights were out in the house, Fallon's mother would not be home until at least four a.m. Lilith Hudson was a nurse at the Oric hospital. She had mainly night shifts, work well into the early hours of the morning.

Fallon's none-identical twin brother Finn was on a business trip with her father. Lucky for her Finn wasn't home, otherwise he would be asking a bucket load of questions on who the guy in the 'Stang was.

Then, he would probably beat the poor guy up, like he did to any boy who took interest in her. The boy opened the passenger side door, giving Fallon an impatient look.

She walked up the driveway slowly, looking back at the boy, who was leaning beside the drivers side door. Fallon dove into her pockets for the keys to the front door.

The lock clicked open, and she move to say good-bye to the boy. Slightly dazed, her vision became blurry. Before Fallon knew it, the ground had slipped from under her. She fell in a crumpled heap on the foyer carpet.

The last thing she saw was the boy abandoning the Mustang and running up the driveway.