I WOKE UP TO THE SEARING PAIN IN MY ANKLE. Light illuminated the room, clearly coming from my leg. I glanced at the window, and only the faint glow of the moon light seeped through the windows. It was still the dead of night, most probably.
The pain had turned from a searing one to a burning one - one that seemed to seep into my flesh, eating at eat as if someone had poured acid on my ankle. I clutched it, squeezing it hard, in a futile attempt to slow the pain down. I bared my teeth, biting down hard to prevent myself from screaming. And then I couldn't take it any longer - I shout for Jaycob, my Cepan. I yelled his name over and over again, the previously eerily silent house now filled with my piercing cry of pain. I heard footsteps, and the door was thrown open, and Jaycob rushed in.
The first thing I noticed about Jaycob is that he had a kitchen knife in a tight grip in his left hand. His eyes darted around the room for about a second, until he noticed the glaring light from my ankle. His gaze fell on me, and he dropped the kitchen knife onto the floor. It fell with a thud as he rushed towards me. I let out a growl, and the light died down. Steadily, the pain subsided. Everything returns back to its normal state - my screams no longer filled the hallways, the light no longer shone in the room, and there was no more pain.
I was taking heavy breaths - much too heavy for my liking. My heart hammered against my chest, so loudly I swore I could have heard it beating. Jaycob turned on the lights, and that was when I saw it - we both saw it.
On my ankle was a symbol, now a scar permanently etched into my skin and flesh. Number Three's symbol. It was now my third scar - marking the death of Number Three. Jaycob stares at it at first, and then his eyes widen in panic. We both knew what that meant - Number Four was next, and we needed to get out of the town, out of this house, far far away. It was time to run off again.
That was what we did the last two times. Actually, it was what we always did every time we sensed something strange or dangerous. We would take off, leaving everything behind - including our temporary identities that we had taken up when we were in that town. The Magodorians were now one step closer to finding us. Number Four was the only thing that stood in their way.
Jaycob shot a frantic glance at his watch, seeing that it was only one o'clock in the morning. "Sleep, get some rest. Tomorrow morning, we leave. Right away." He said, before sprinting out of my bedroom and up the stairs - probably to pack a few things. And there he was, leaving me in my room, leaving me worried and scared. He probably didn't mean to, because I was sure he was worried and scared as well, and possibly panicked. I tried to calm down, to steady my breathing, to relax. I forced my eyelids shut, hoping that I would drift off to a peaceful sleep that night. But of course, that didn't happen. I was kept awake for at least three hours, due to the thoughts and questions cramming into my head. That night, those things haunted my dreams as well.
THE NEXT MORNING, JAYCOB WOKE ME UP. He had a backpack slung across his shoulder and was already dressed. He urged me to go take a shower and get ready. I did so, but in a very groggy manner because I didn't exactly get much sleep the night before. In the bathroom, I examined my new scar on my ankle. I had to admit, it frightened me a lot. That scar confirmed that Number Three was dead. Somewhere out there, Three had lost his or her life. And Number Four's life was at risk now, as well.
Something odd about me is that most likely the other Nine - or Ten - Garde don't know about me. I'm the "Unknown One," as Jaycob usually referred to me as. The reason why? I'm Number Eleven. I was placed on a ship - a second ship, which carried me, Ten, our Cepan and some other things I couldn't bother to remember - which was separated from the other one, the ship that carried the nine Garde. I was still put under the spell - or charm, whatever you want to call it, really - and I, like the rest, could not be killed out of order. In other words, I would be the last Garde to die at the hands of the Mogadorians, with Ten in front of me. As to why I was put into a second ship with Ten and not placed in the ship with the other nine Garde, I don't know. Jaycob hadn't told me yet, and I learnt over the years to not press on the subject too much - he would just brush it off or tell me the same answer every single time: The time hasn't come yet.
I didn't realize that I was caught up in my thoughts so much, because Jaycob has come banging on the door for me to hurry up. I dried my short, wind-swept blonde hair with a towel. My natural hair color is actually light brown, but Jaycob had asked me to dye it blonde, just to be extra careful. I didn't really like my blonde hair. It never fit right with my hazel eyes.
Another round of knocking and I gave in. I threw on a set of new clothes - a blue and white long-sleeved tee shirt and a pair of denim jeans. I opened the door and made my way downstairs, where Jaycob was waiting at the front door with a few bags. I helped him carry them into the trunk of the car. We didn't exchange much words, because there was nothing to talk about, really. When we finished with the bags, he pulled out a folder - a folder filled with my fake identifications. He held out a lighter, shoving it into my hands. He tossed the folder to me, and I know what he wanted me to do. I let out a sigh as I caught the folder.
In this town, I had taken up the name of Jack Brenton. It was the fourth identity I had taken up - Jeremy Anderson, Tyler Caylan and Peter Johnson being my first, second and third respectively. The first time I changed identity from Jeremy Anderson to Tyler Caylan was when Number One died. And then, when Number Two died, I became Peter Johnson. A few years after, Jaycob had said he sensed something wrong. We took off again, and I changed my identity to Jack Brenton. And now, I was going to do it all over again.
I lit the folder on fire and the flames consumed it. I dropped the folder onto the ground, where Jaycob threw his folder into the fire as well. It's been good knowing you, Jack, I thought. I watched as the flames engulfed the two folders, smoke floating up into the skies. Jaycob had been spilling gasoline around the house while I did so. He made sure we both were a fair distance away from the house before setting the gasoline on fire. The fire spread quickly, setting the house on fire.
With that, we both scrambled into the car, ready to drive off.