N I N E T E E N
"Ten stitches on your forehead," The doctor points the the right side of my forehead, "And a bit of surgery in your side with fifty stitches," He points to the center of my stomach, "Everything else is fine." The doctor finishes with a smile.
"Thanks, Doc."
"It was a pleasure, Mr. Smith." I shake hands with the doctor, then pull on my grey hoodie, heading out of the hospital. So, apperantly, I am not that far from London. I found a map in the lobby after my stitches and surgery, before the doctor came out to talk to me. Turns out I am in the city of Jacksonville, which is only about and hour or two away from London. It's unheard of because it is in the middle of a forest, but it can be easily found.
Pulling my hood over my head, shoving my hands in my pockets, I walk down the dimly lighted streets, back towards the tellie. I dial in Woody's number after placing a quater in the slot. The phone rings twice before he answers, "Hello?"
"Hey, Chris, it's Dan." I whisper, afraid Cameron or one of his minions are watching me.
"DAN!" Woody shouts, "GUYS! DAN IS ON THE PHONE!"
"What?" I hear Kyle speak up in the background. He doesn't sound as jumpy, cheery, or bubbely as he normally does.
"Let me speak to him, Woody!" Will says.
"Guys, come on. I only have five minutes on the line."
"Alright, mate," Woody says, "Here's Will."
"Dan?"
"Ya?" I start chewing my bottom lip, bored, and kind of worried. Because right now, it feels like I am being watched.
"Where are you? We are coming to get you, now. We are worried as hell because your step-sister and step-brother were murdered, and we have a feeling that all this revolves around you."
I roll my eyes, "Shut up, Will! I know what happened! I was on the phone with them when it happened!" We are both silent for a little while, until Woody breaks it.
"Well, Dan, where are y-" The line is cut and a long, soft buzz comes through the phone. I pound on the box, trying to fix it, but then look up slightly to see somebody in all black standing in front of me from the other side of the glass.
I slowly move the phone back to the box, hanging it up, keeping my eyes on the person in front of me. The dark person holds up a pair of scissors and a wire. Damn. I scowl at them, suddenly getting pissed. Clentching my fists, I can feel the veins start to rise in my hands and neck. I hear a low chuckle, the same one I heard on the phone when my step-sister and step-brother were murdered.
That's it.
I burst our of the telephone booth, striding over the the person. Before they can start running away, I grab them by the wrist, tightly. Now that I stopped them, I pin them on the brick wall, punching them over and over in the face. They start to let out painful moans and growns. They try stopping me, but fail. I start to knee them in the stomach, causing loud wheezes to esape their lips.
Blood flies out of the dark hood, still not revealing themselves. I reach a hand out to pull their hood off, but they grab my arms, and stab me in the leg with the scissors. I let out a whimpish yell, bringing my hands down, and pulling out the scissors. After I throw them on the concrete, I look up to see that they have fled.
Shaking my head, still pissed as hell, I look at my leg. It isn't bad. The cuts aren't deep, thank god. I do not want to go back to the hospital for just some measly cut. I shake it off, standing up, grunting slightly.
I swear on my life, I will do anything to kill Cameron and his posse, and keep my bandmates, the rest of my family, and Darcy safe.
No matter the risks.