from hunter to hunted

Those damn U-joints

"Yeah, I'm fine, this is the other guy's blood.'' Michael then threw the backpack against a clear table with some whiteboard markers. He then went to the shower to find the pajamas Izzy was wearing in the corner. Michael then got undressed and got into the shower. Blood from the other guys washed right off him. He then got out and wrapped a towel around his waist and got some stuff to wrap around his stomach.

That stomach wound was not helping at all. He unwrapped and cleaned the wound. He then re-wrapped it, making sure it was clean and tight. Izzy walked in on him, just wrapping up. He still sat in his towel. Izzy then quickly turned around, embarrassed.

"Is there something you need?" Michael asked.

"Yeah, does my wrap need to be rewrapped and cleaned"

"Yes, I was just about to get some pants on and get you."

Michael then got into sweatpants and T-shirt, and grabbed Izzy.

"You need to take your shirt off," Michael said in a professional but embarrassed way.

"I-I forgot about that," Izzy said, now also embarrassed.

"And so are you so I can rewrap."

"I don't have a bra."

"Oh, ohhhh," Michael said now knowing why. "Just wait one second."

Michael left and came back with a bra. "It was her bra, but it's unused, so you can use it."

Michael left to right behind the corner as Izzy put on the bra. Michael came back in.

"The bra is a little tight, and uncomfortable, is there any way we can get me some." Izzy said in discomfort.

"I'll give you the money can you can grab it in your size" Michael said, wanting to stay out of an embarrassing situation.

Michael then began to unwrap her stomach. As he did this, they both were embarrassed and blushing, Michael's face was especially red. He cleaned it for her, Izzy twitching a little. After he was done cleaning, he wrapped it back up tightly. When he got up to Izzy's level, they looked at each other slowly, they kissed, their lips locked, but both slowly backed up. They didn't know what just happened.

"You're good to go, Izzy."

"Thank you."

They sat there for a few moments. They both went to their beds, and slept, thinking about what happened.

Michael got up before Izzy and started to read through the files. He got out a phone, and snapped pictures of all the files. He documented their order, and then sprawled them all out. He looked for symbols, or phrases, something out of the ordinary, shared with most of these files.

No, wait, there was one. His own company, and its logo. What if it was this one? No, it couldn't be. Maybe it has a covered history. Something catches his eye. A little book, peaced together with notebook paper, and staples. It had a few notes. Something of a list of names, years and companies. The company names all looked familiar. Wait, those are all his company. He googles them all, just to see what that would get him. All but the last 3 and his own were names. The other 5 showed up. He knew exactly what he needed now. He got his composition notebook, and started writing everything he knew and thought he would need.

Izzy walked out to a very messy table. Izzy then asked, "When was the last time you ate?"

"When we were at the gas station," Michael said, realizing he hadn't eaten in 2 or 3 days. "I'm gonna get a can of something from the can room."

He went, and ate 2 or 3 cans of food. Izzy sat there, eating from a can. "When we move, do you think we can get some non canned food?"

Michael responded "I think we have a few MRE's here if you want one."

"No, I'm good," Izzy then finished.

Michael then grabbed 2 backpacks, put 3 MRE's in each along with a few hundred rounds of 9mm in both bags, a few hundred rounds of the 5.7 in 1 bag, and a couple of hundred rounds of 7.62x39 and 7.62x54 in the other. He thought that in closer quarters, an AKM was going to do better than a long DMR. He then grabbed the AKM with an underfolder stock and 30 round magazine. He threw 3 more into the backpack, fully loaded. He threw 3 P90 magazines into the corresponding backpack, fully loaded. He also threw 5 Dragunov magazines into the backpack.

He then put the files into the fireplace and burned them after making sure he could read every one off the pictures on his phone. He needed to run, and they would probably be finding him soon, finding her soon.

"You need to get on the dark blue suit," Michael had quickly said as Izzy walked out. "We are leaving, we are also ditching the motorcycles."

"First, I'm already ahead of you, I already have it on," Izzy walked up to Michael proudly. "Also, why are we ditching the motorcycles?"

"Well, I think they know we are on them." Michael pulled up a picture of them on their motorcycles. Izzy saw and looked worried.

He went back to the gun room and pulled out a Dragunov DMR. It looked sleek for what it was. It had dark stained wood furniture, and another 2x-8x scope. The sling was an old soviet sling from when this rifle was first used. He slung the rifle over his back.

"Lets go, grab your P90 and put it under your motorcycle jacket," Michael said, while making his slinged rifle comfortable. "Follow me now."

Izzy put on her motorcycle protective clothing, and put the SMG under it. They both went down a flight of stairs with a few bikes, trucks, and muscle cars.

Michael, under his breath, then said, "I love america and the fact that all of these can just sorta blend in."

"So you think sports bikes and some of the most powerful cars can just blend in?" Izzy looked at him like he was stupid.

"Hell yeah, even my heavily modded truck could, with the v8 in it." Michael said with a smile like one of a child in a candy shop. "Seemingly every car guy has something, for me, I have a lot of somethings."

Izzy just looked at him like he was nuts. "So what are we taking?"

"The truck with the bike under the topper" Michael said this, sounding like he had a plan.

"Do you care if I drive?" Izzy said, wanting some freedom after being locked up.

"Yeah, you can drive, I need to read anyway."

They found the truck with the bike, hidden by a topper. Izzy got into the driver side, and Michael into the passenger. She put the truck into drive, then pressed the gas pedal, making more power than expected. After that, she tested it, and started to drive, putting it on cruise control once on the highway.

Michael looked through the files on his phone. He needed more information on what was going on.

Izzy reached over and turned on the radio.

"Back to 100.3 country, where we have all the best country," came from the radio. A few country songs played quiet, as Michael read the files.

"Where are we going anyway, Michael?" Izzy spoke, realizing she had no idea.

"No idea yet, we just need to keep driving," Michael said, still focused on the files.

"So how long will you have me be driving?"

"Till you get tired, or need a break. Pull over any time, and I'll drive."

"No, I'll keep driving."

Michael then threw the phone between his legs, and exhaled heavily. "Why can't I find anything?" He took a round from a magazine that was on his waist, proceeding to fidget with the 9mm bullet.

2 hours pass by, as they stay on the road, but the front of the drive shaft then broke and dragged onto the road, as it bends and breaks the rear universal joint. Izzy slams on the break, hearing the clanking of the drive shaft. They get out, and Michael notices the bent drive shaft 200 feet away. He opens the back, only to find the tires had been slashed, and parts of the bike torn off.