IDENTITY THIEF | phan

one.

Dark.

That's all Phil sees when he opens his eyes.

He drives alone on a country road in the middle of nowhere, reaching to turn up the radio in hopes the swirling storm clouds above him were just figments of his imagination. He was on his way to his parents house, who lived just North of his own apartment in London. Harsh winds pressed against his car and he swerved, trying hard to maintain control.

"Funnel clouds reported above the town of Kettering. Wait- just in. We have reports of a touch down in Rushton. Current diameter 2 km wide with wind speed 100 km/hr. If you are in or near the town of Kettering, please take shelter. I repeat, if you are in or near the town of Kettering, take shelter. If you are in a car, get out and get as far down as you can. If possible, take shelter in the nearest home or shed-" loud sirens poured through the speakers of Phil's car, static creating shivers throughout his body. Branches of trees on either sides of the car were torn clean off the tree and hurdled towards Phil, making him swerve out of the way. "ATTENTION CITIES OF RUSHTON, KETTERING, PIPEWELL, FAXTON AND SURROUNDING AREAS. MULTIPLE TORNADOES HAVE TOUCHED DOWN IN AND AROUND KETTERING. PLEASE TAKE SHELTER." A voice yells from inside the car. Downpours of rain hit the car window and roof, making it hard to see and hear what was going on. Phil starts to look around him in hopes of finding a house, a shed, or any place he could hide from the storm. Instead, he could see a flicker of light farther down the road. It was coming closer; faster and faster until it was a mere 50 feet away. The stranger's car swerved into the ditch; the engine screaming as the front of the car ignited in flames. Phil felt his heart drop, pulling over fast as he falls out of his own car and hurdles himself towards it.

He pulled hard on the door handle to no avail, rushing back to his vehicle and opening the trunk. Phil grabbed a metal crowbar and hurried to the other side, careful the shards of glass didn't find their way to the boy who laid unconscious in the driver's seat. The interior of the car grew warmer and warmer as Phil unbuckled the boy and tugged on his jacket to try to get him out. He instead unlocks the other side, crawling back up the slippery ditch as hail the size of quarters smashed hard into his back. He opened the drivers door and pulled the stranger out and into his own car cautiously, then crawled into the other side. The wind screamed in his ears as he forcefully shut the door, turning his key and putting his car in reverse. Phil could see a faint swirling mass a couple kilometers down the road, coming closer and eating everything in its path. He inhaled sharply as he put the car in reverse, putting his hand on the back of the passenger seat as he tried to steer around broken down mailboxes and falling branches. Just as he reached the end of the street he made a reverse Y turn and put the gear in drive, accelerating up to 100 k/hr in hopes god would let him outrun the funnel. Just as he reached the town of Kettering, he looked back to find the tornado had switched courses and turned around. He let out a huge breath, reaching for his phone to find the nearest hospital. He eventually found one on the east side of the city, "KETTERING GENERAL HOSPITAL," it read. Phil parked the car and went around to the passenger's seat, carrying the unconscious boy in his arms through the door and to the front desk. The women behind the desk excused herself and returned with a wheel chair.

"Who are you? Family?" she asked as they walked through the quiet corridor.

"I'm Phil. His room mate," he lied. He'd gotten so good at lying these days that he almost believed himself. The women nodded, opening the door to room 205 and wheeling the boy in. Phil sat down in the uncomfortable hospital chairs next to the boy and held his hand as she excused herself.

He saw the tip of a wallet in the stranger's front pocket and he bit his lip, tempted to look through it to see if this beautiful boy in front of him had a name. The tips of his fingers found their way to the leather skin and he carefully removed it from the boy's ebony jeans. Phil opened it, looking through to see if he had a driver's license. In the back, behind a black card to Nandos, he found it.

DANIEL HOWELL.

That's who he was. He was Daniel Howell. A beautiful name for a beautiful boy. The boy's eyes slowly opened to reveal a sea of chestnut and cognac looking up at him. Phil leaned closer, astonished of Dan's beauty. Fluttering eyelashes opened to big brown eyes and freckles dotted his perfect skin.

"Adam? Is that you?" the boy croaked. Phil swallowed hard at the beautiful boy whose hand was entangled in his own and smiled down at him.

"Yes."