The Wrong Place at the Wrong Time

Chapter 1

~Hazel's POV

Rule number one: there are no rules, none at all. For twelve hours, there is a glorious period where people can do whatever they want without consequences. Every March 21st at seven O'clock P.M. to March 22 at seven O'clock A.M. humans are allowed to do what they want. As long as you don't try and kill a person with a ten raking or higher, or you don't use a weapon over a class four, you can do whatever you like. Murder, robbery, rape, and drug use will all be legal. All police services will be suspended for the night.

"Scarlette! Where are my 23 semi pistols?" I shouted to my best friend in preparation for tonight. In one hour, we will be roaming the streets looking for people on our kill list. Both of our parents have headed for Canada tonight, to avoid The Purge, leaving us to ourselves.

"They are on the yellow surf board, you idiot!" She shouted back at me from my room. I live in a small apartment with about three rooms, a small kitchen, a small bathroom, and a little balcony overlooking the end of the Santa Cruz Boardwalk. It is right above our small surf shop, that practically no one comes to.

I walked over to the only yellow surf board I have in the place, and find my pistols. Scarlette walked down the stairs and looked at me with a scowl.

"Hazel, you aren't even dressed yet. Do you plan on killing people in your pajamas?" She laughed, sliding a 200m submachine gun onto her back. It was a beautiful gun that I wanted very badly. She slid a 500 Cruiser Persuader Pump Shotgun so it was hanging across her chest, and she loaded extra ammo into a bag, along with medical supplies. I told her she needed to learn the basics of first aid, that way if one of us is hurt, she can bandage us up.

I walked into my room and pulled out my black clothing. I slipped a bulletproof vest on, and a "Too tough to die" Johnny Ramón shirt onto my body, black ripped skinny jeans, my favorite pair of Vince Camuto Richell Boots. I walked over to my weapon box, and pulled out my throwing knives. I strapped a holster around my upper thigh at arm's length. I pulled on the back sheath for my machete and slid the bad boy in there. I walked down stairs, and put my black leather jacket on, and slid my pistols into the back of my pants.

Scarlette was wearing a bulletproof vest, with a plain black tank top over it, black skinny jeans, and black ankle high boots. She had a golden necklace in the shape of a sword, and of course her weapons. She slipped on fingerless leather gloves, and pulled a wicked pair of brass knuckles on.

"Dude, those are awesome!" I exclaimed, looking at her. She smiled, and pulled what looked like a knife out of the brass knuckles. "You need to get me a pair of these!" I said walking towards the back, and unlocking my dogs' cages.

My two Rottweilers walked out, and followed me into the main room. They have been trained only to attack when I tell them to. I've been training them for a year, and tonight's the night I finally get to try them out. Scarlette walked over to them, and started to play around with them. They are completely harmless unless you say...

"Attack." I said with a smile, and watched the dogs narrow their eyes and growled at Scarlette. The dogs charged at her, and pinned her to the floor.

"Down!" She yelled at the two dogs, slapping them on the head. They whimpered and backed up. I laughed, and walked over to help Scarlette up. "I hate you." She mumbled brushing her back off.

"You better not hate me, in twenty minutes; I'll be able to legally kill you." I laughed, looking out the windows. The sky was dark, and I was preparing for my long night.

"When are Charlie and Alec getting here?" Scarlette asked readjusting her gun on her back. Charlie and Alec are... friends of a friend. They have been helping me through a rough year, and I don't know where I would be without them. I looked away from the window. "It's only been a year, Hazel. You have a right to be sad, and spend your days crying." She said coming towards me with her arms open.