Busy day. ‘Nuff said. XD
This is the fourth part of Ransom, a story written by all you lovely people! If you’re interested in continuing, just shoot me an email or let me know in the comments. 🙂 Today y’all get to read a beautiful piece by Janelle Trillo, a great friend and writer! Let’s get started, shall we?
The Prompt
This is a series written by you guys! Interested in continuing it? Ask me for the last part, which you can read and then write off. (:
The Story
Dylan was now on his way to one of the most protected–and secluded–compounds in the entire country. A place that was well known, but always talked about in hushed whispers, even by the little ones.
He took the monorail to Drosat District, where he knew he could track one of the gang men to their compound. Besides it being the drug capital of the country, known around the world for its most cunning theft, and its many black market dealings, it was a city that was constantly growing and improving.
The governor of the city was a man who loved improving his wealth, which in turn resulted in bigger and better. But Dylan knew him personally as a devious man. Most times paying off the security force of the district for things he wanted kept under the carpet. And a few noticed him for his many dealings with the Crimson Fangs; the gang Dylan was hoping to find.
DINGGG!
“Next stop. Drosat District,” a feminine voice said over the com.
He pulled his straps tighter on his small backpack, slung the strap for his AR-15 rifle over his shoulder, and pulled his large black cloak over to conceal it all. He had stopped beforehand at a local gas station to apply some black clay to his face to conceal a look he knew was being hunted.
Holding onto one of the many metal polls of the monorail for balance, he waited.
His boy was strong. But just how strong? His mind quickly went into analysis and combat mode. Something his brain had done more times than he could count. He knew that walking through their front door would get him killed faster than if he tried a different option. But how–
The monorail doors finally slid open into the cool night air of a large metropolis city. Dylan quickly exited and made his way to a pawnshop on 39th Street. This was the perfect place to get some connections to the Crimson Fangs… that is, if he was careful, and didn’t get shot first.
After many twists and turns, he made it to 39th Street; though it looked more like a back alley than a street. He breathed a deep sigh, straightened his back, and walked purposely down the street. He stopped in front of a large pawnshop with the name ‘The Tin Monkey’ enblazened onto a scrap of metal bolted to the top of the low doorway by rusty nails.
What could possibly go wrong? He chuckled softly.
Just then, he heard shouting inside, a gunshot go off, and boots pounding their way towards him. He quickly jumped to the side of the doorway.
Dylan tried to contemplate if he should hide, or engage whoever it was. He quickly backed up behind a large metal bin and decided to hide instead. If it really was a Crimson Fang, then he could likely follow him back to his hideout. There was hardly any light in the alley, which helped in concealing Dylan–and for most people it would be hard to see too–but not for Dylan. He had expert vision in both daylight and in pitch blackness.
As the person exited, he could make out the black attire of the man. But what confirmed his suspicions was the golden emblem of a snake emblazoned on the front of his jacket.
“Fang scum,” he muttered under his breath.
Almost as if the man heard Dylan, he stopped and listened. Trying to detect the slightest motion. None. He turned around slowly…
Dylan instantly stopped breathing, and he tried to will his heartbeat to slow down.
But seeing nothing, the man continued on.
Dylan started breathing again. If I didn’t have to follow him, I would have already annihilated him and have sold his head by now. For there were many who would pay a high price for a live Crimson Fang.
But a head? Even better.
Though he knew if he wanted his son back, he had no choice but to follow the man. He pulled his sleeve up slightly to look at his gps/computer watch. With a few swipes and taps of his finger, he got up a hologram map of the District. After analyzing it for a few seconds, he tapped a button on the screen.
“Documenting. Route,” a robotic voice said from his watch. “Initiating. Silent. Mode.”
“Stay. Safe. Dylan.”
He chuckled to himself. He thought it interesting how his watch seemed to have taken on a personality of its own.
“I’ll try…”
Talk about a cliffhanger!! Thanks so much for participating, Janelle. 🙂
What’ll it be, folks? Will Dylan confront the Crimson Fangs? What happened to Norah? Is Slade ok? Who in the world is Crook 1? WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?!?!!?
Yes, this is me dying over my own snippet series. XD
Until next time,
Take courage, pursue God, and smile while you still have teeth!! 😀
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