"...I Used to Read Word Up Magazine!"

Around 2:45 A.M. scintillating blue and red lights illuminated the room; the flashing strobes made the shadows of still objects dance. Narby is awakened by the sound of a police officer barking orders through a bullhorn; he was asleep on a couch.

"This is the sheriff. Please evacuate your homes immediately; bring only your personal belongings, no pets! This is an immediate evacuation of the area; evacuate your homes immediately!"

Narby jumps off the couch and frantically begins searching for items scattered throughout the room: a pill bottle; ring of keys; bag of weed; 10 mm pistol; his backpack. He grabs all the items and then hightails it towards the back door. Just as he's about to open it he sees the flashlights of the officers through the window blinds.

"Fuck!" he whispers. He quickly ducks and quietly crawls down the hallway into the master bedroom and waits; in the silence he listens to the advancing officers. As he waits, he slowly and quietly slides open the window in the room.

"Felton Sheriff Department! Open the door!" -Boom- The back door is kicked in by the sheriff officers.

During all the ruckus Narby jumps through the screen, rolls over the small brick wall that separates the houses and slips into the backyard of the house next door unnoticed.

Narby knows this move bought him an extra twenty seconds max, so he jumps over the pool floaties scattered on the ground laying in front of him, and lands with a smooth barrel roll; much like the unnecessary move used by the action hero in the movies. He pops up and casually walks to the wooden gate that leads to the front of the house and blends in with the crowd of retreating residents who are evacuating their homes as ordered.

Meanwhile, the Sheriff officers searching the house have now realized that the screen is busted out and that someone has recently escaped.

"Spread out, set up a perimeter and block all points of exit! Call in the helicopter!" The squad scrambles furiously out of the house and towards their awaiting vehicles behind the house: the engines growl to life in a vigorous fashion echoing throughout the neighborhood; the wheels screamed and screeched as they barreled down the dark alley; their sirens echoing in the distance. The thundering blades of a helicopter can be heard approaching.

"Ground, this is Eagle. ETA 3 minutes, over."

Narby blends well: he is wearing dark blue jeans with gray sneakers, a white graphic t-shirt, and a black hooded sweatshirt; his backpack, is black with gray straps. With his neutral colors he doesn't standout. He shuffles along with the members of the neighborhood as they file down the sidewalk. He sees the old ladies that frequent Mrs. Caldwell's house; they like to play the card game Bridge. Two of ladies, Mrs. Caldwell and Evelyn look stressed by all of the commotion of the sudden forced evacuation; and are struggling to get Mrs. Hayes into the vehicle. She recently hurt her hip. Narby, seeing an opportunity in the moment, jumps to help them get her safely into the minivan. Evelyn drives a blue 1991 Dodge Caravan; with racer stripes.

"Hey ladies, let me help you get her into the van. It looks like you're having a little trouble here." Narby takes Evelyn's spot, since she is the smaller of the two trying to support Mrs. Hayes into the minivan. Evelyn looks at Narby and shares a warming smile.

"Oh, what a sweetheart! Thank you so very much, you have such nice manners." Evelyn continues to smile as she slowly makes her way around to the driver side door. Her frail figure makes him wonder if she is even capable of driving, but he sets his focus on securing Mrs. Hayes into the vehicle. Once he has her into the seat, he realizes that there is no seatbelt.