Left For Dead ||nh|| ||bk 1||

Prologue

The Sheriff was about to call it a night in the small town as he drove through the park, when he heard something in the dead silence. He wasn't completely sure what it was, but it sounded so quiet, so broken, that he felt the desire to check it out. Mainly because it could very well be someone in pain, and it was his sworn duty, as Sheriff of the small town, to check out all potential people in danger.

He kept his flashlight on the ground, skimming for whatever had made the sound. However, he was not expecting to trip right over them. He wouldn't of even noticed the boy, had he not let out a mangled yell. The Sheriff swung his flashlight over what he'd originally thought was a log or something, and saw that it was, indeed a person. He was completely caked in mud, but there was blood cuts gushing out of him.

The Sheriff took out his cell phone, praying he'd get service, even though they were only on the edge of the woods. He dialed 911, informed the lady speaking to him where he was, and the emergency, and was satisfied that within a few minutes of hanging up, he could hear the distant sound of the ambulance getting closer.

He glanced at the boy on the ground, and noticed his chest was barely moving up and down, so he offered his hand. When nothing came back, he kneeled on the ground, and noticed that the boy had his eyes completely closed. He quickly saw to it that he was both breathing, and his heart was beating. When he was satisfied that both were correct, he sat out to getting the boy out of the mud. He wasn't completely sure how to get the mud off without contaminating any evidence, but he knew that the EM's would clean his skin anyways, so the Sheriff took his handkerchief, and started to clean his face.

By the time the ambulance arrived, he had the boy's, because he couldn't be much older than eighteen, face completely wiped clean. Nothing else though.

The EMs asked the Sheriff a few questions, to which the Sheriff replied the best he could. While he was answering the questions, the other EMs were taking the boy, and hauling him into the ambulance, to transport him back to the hospital. They asked the Sheriff if he wanted to ride with, but he grimly shook his head no, because he had to get back to the police department, close up for the night, and then head home to his wife and kids.

At the hospital, however, once they transported the boy, the doctors went to removing all the mud-caked clothes. They were careful not to get fingerprints on them, and stuffed them inside a plastic bag, to hand over to the police later on. They then started to clean the rest of mud that was stuck all over his body.

When one of the doctors suggested that he had to of been in the park for more than one day, no one argued because they all saw the truth behind the words. There was no way he could of gotten so much mud caked onto his skin, and clothes. And the blood on his face, on his stomach, on his right leg, it was all dried and clotted.

They had a sworn duty however, a sworn duty to try to save him. And they would, even though each second his heart got quieter and quieter. Someone did a quick succession of chest compressions, and soon, the heart rate got back up. Not knowing when the boy had his last meal, they hooked him up to tubes, and started feeding him that way, getting him both solids and liquids into his body.

With their high-quality staff, even though it was a rather small hospital in a rather small town, it wasn't long before they were confident that the boy was going to survive. And, at that point, they sat out to try to find out who he was so they could contact any family members.

They checked everything. They checked anyone who had been reported missing in the past few weeks, they ran his fingerprints through a database, anything they could do to think of finding out who he was. But, there was absolutely nothing. And if there was nothing on this boy, then they didn't know what to do.

There had been no wallet in his pocket, no way of identifying the victim. For all they knew, he could be an absolute nobody, a homeless kid who'd lost his parents or something. There was just nothing there for them to do anymore with. All they could do was wait.

It was two days before he finally regained consciousness. They kept a good eye on him until then. When they asked him his name, he told them, Niall Horan. When they asked him what had happened, he said he wasn't sure. When they asked him again, he replied with the same thing. They asked him if he had any family. He said they all died. They asked how old he was. He said nineteen. They asked him if he was living with anyone. He said yes. They asked who, he said he couldn't remember.

And it went back like that, over and over, and over. Until they got one phrase out of Niall. One little phrase that changed everything, and made them completely certain that he was in danger.

"He left me there. I-I-I was left for dead."

Hahaha :D I hope you guys liked this...I'm really excited for this series. I REALLY am. It's been consuming my mind for EVER now. It's going to be what I live, breathe, eat. I'm not sure how often I'll update, but I'll try for once or twice a week. I WILL finish them. I promise you.

Anyways, hope you like the prologue. Let me know what you guys think of this one. Oh...and dedication to @aboutablake because he made the awesome freaking cover for this book :D