from hunter to hunted

Damn, It's Been A Long Day

"What are you doing?" Izzy looked tired.

"Ohh, you will see."

After about 30 minutes of walking, Michael went up, and knocked on a house's door.

"I heard you have an old bike for sale that works well?"

"Ohh, Yeah, those old japanese bikes never die," an old biker walking towards his garage said. "She runs just like the day I bought it in '82."

"And I can only assume you have taken good care of it?" Michael asked.

"Well of course, I love the old thing."

"Why are you selling it then? And for so cheap?"

"She served me well the last 40 years, but I'm no longer in my 20's," the old man smiles, opening the garage. "I can't really ride anymore, I rode up onto my limits. I got all the fluids changed yesterday, and all other maintenance done."

"You didn't have to do that," Michael told the old man.

"I know how some of you youngsters are, I want the bike to last, just do me a favor."

"What's that?"

"I know you aren't a normal teen. Your walk is too military, and you obviously have plenty of experience on bikes," the old man took a deep breath. "Try to keep the bike in one piece, and maybe sell it cheap or even give it to someone else that's beginning."

Michael looked dumb founded "H-how?"

"Don't worry about it, another thing is your pistol. No highschooler normally carries a firearm."

"You seem to have some experience," Michael looked at the old man.

The old man chuckled, "Just don't take any jobs from the Russian-american organization, they have a sniper that they send to whoever crosses them."

"I'll keep that in mind. I'm unsure of the name of who I work for, right now, I'm actually getting hunted by them."

"Just hope they don't have the sniper, for your sake"

"I hope they haven't found a replacement for me."

The old man laughed, "So you were that kid."

"Yeah." Michael handed the old man the cash "I put in a little extra for the maintenance you did."

"You'd better get going." The old man took the cash and put it in his pocket "good luck, get going, and at least get her a helmet."

Michael got to the bike and started it up. The old 650 engine started off with a roar. The yamaha 650 maxim logo was still as shiny as if it was from the show room.

"Thanks for the bike, Izzy, come on, let's go."

Izzy gets on the bike, and wraps her arms around Michael "Where now?"

"We need helmets." Michael said like that was obvious.

They rode the bike down to a motorcycle and ATV shop, grabbed some basic safety gear and a phone mount. Michael got an address put into the phone's GDS. After an hour of driving, he threw the phone into a car with the windows rolled down, and started off in another direction.

"Where are we going?" Izzy was so confused.

"I got my bearings, and they probably already got the location of the phone. There is a possibility of anything, so we have to be careful."

"So where are we going?"

"About 3 hours west of here, the direction we are going, is where you are going."

"The safe house and this friend?"

"Yep."

"And you trust him?"

"I do."

"Alright, alright."

"It has been a while, so keep your gun on you."

"Well, I'll keep that in mind."

They drive off, driving several hours, reaching a small town. Michael drove the bike up the driveway of an old looking house. He shut off the bike, and kicked the kick stand. Walking up to the house, he had his hand where it could reach the M9 within a second.

When Michael knocked on the door, an older man came out "How's it going kid?"

Michael eased up, seeing the 40 year old man. "It's been good, John."

"I heard you need someone kept safe?"

"Yeah, I do, she should never have been part of this mess."

"How important is she to you?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I just would like to know."

"If you must know, before this, we were just classmates, though we have some sort of bond after all that has happened."

"I'll keep her safe here, what's your plan?"

"I have no idea, all i know is i need to get a few weapons"

"I'd give you a few, but I don't have any here" the guy looked over at Michael, trying to see what he even had "do you even have anything?"

"I just have this" Michael pulls out his m9.

"That's not a whole lot of firepower."

"I know, that's my problem at the moment"

"What does the girl have?"

"She doesn't have anything."

"Well, I'll take her in, and you get a move on it, alright?"

"Alright, you'd better keep her safe, or i'll finish my job"

"I get the point, Izzy, right? Come on in"

Izzy, hesitantly, walked into the house. The door closed, and Michael headed off on his old bike. He started going, he didn't know where he was going, only that he needed to get far away and attract his old company.

He found the house he had originally put in his gps. It was an abandoned farm house. Several years ago, he had tracked down what he could of his family. This would have been his home if not for his kidnapping.

"Home sweet home" Michael said sarcastically to himself, and smiled.

He kicked down the door, taking a second kick. He walked in, and saw the house like the day his parents disappeared.

He pulled the m9 out, and did a sweep thru of the whole house. It was empty, the only footprints he could see were slightly smaller versions of his own.

He sat down at the old wood chair at the kitchen table and got out the 1911. He looked at it, taking the bullet he tried to fire out. The primer had a full indent.

He walked to the front deck, chambering a new round into the old gun. He pulled the trigger, and the .45 went off. "Old ammo",Michael uttered to himself.

He went back inside, looking for anything. Nothing, no more guns, no more ammo, and the food was beyond expired. He took out an MRE and started to prepare it. He needed some food before any sort of fight. He knew he needed to make those close quarters combat, as he did not have the necessary deer for any sort of long range.

He went through the house, sitting trip wires with old fence wire. He memorized the lay out, and how he set all the wires. He needed every advantage.