Disclaimer: I don't own MR, just the plot. This goes for the entire story.
Fang POV:
The small sound bomb is clenched tight in my hands as I fight to keep my anxiety down. This is just another one of your crazy sabotages, I tell myself. It isn't as if you haven't done something bad before. Yeah right, like I've done any good things. I'm the most wanted criminal in the nation of Provincia, and it is my life goal to make sure their war against the Commonwealth is doomed. Once the Commonwealth takes over, everything will be fine.
I nearly yelp, the bomb burning my hand. What am I thinking, holding this damn thing for so long? The small fire I lit is almost to its destination. With expert aim and strength, I toss the bomb somewhere to my left where it promptly explodes with a resounding boom. The guards' heads whip around and they rush off into the distance. Time to have some fun.
From my pocket, I produce tiny sticks of TNT. I do a quick inventory. Forty seven. Perfect. I light up six of them and slip them all under the fighter jet scheduled to fly to the warfront within a few minutes. Well, it isn't going to be flying anywhere any time soon. As quickly as I can, I run, which is pretty fast, way faster than any average person.
I make it to the abandoned gate I first got in through just as the six sticks I lit explode. There is a series of loud booms as the TNT sticks I placed explode in a chain reaction. There is no time to look back at my handiwork. The guards must know I am here. Who else is crazy enough to blow up a large fighter jet?
As I run, I nearly trip over a fallen log, but I manage to keep my balance and continue running. Suddenly, bullets whiz by me. "He's getting away!" someone yells. A bullet comes by my ear so close, I hear a buzzing sound, it nicks a cut at the tip. My ear stings. I will have to get Angel to clean it later. Without warning, there is a terrible, sharp pain in my left shoulder, and I bite my lip to keep from crying out.
The shouts grow more distant as I keep running until they fade away to silence. I start to slow down once I know for sure that no one is following me. Once I start running on concrete instead of dirt, I know I'm in the city. This is where I'll be in most danger, so I slip into the shadows. I'm thankful for my olive skin, dark hair and eyes. They help me blend into darkness better than most people.
Smiling, I think back to my little gift to Provincia. They'll find fingerprints on the match I have thrown on the ground, but my fingerprints won't do them any good. When they run the prints to find a match in their databases, they won't find anything. That's why they hate me. This is why I'm not the most dangerous criminal, but the most wanted. I make Provincia look bad by always slipping through their fingers every time.
Another reason why they hate me is because Provincia has no idea what I look like. Sometimes, I see my wanted posters plastered onto practically every wall in the city. The one I pass goes like this:
FANG, MOST WANTED CRIMINAL. $200,000 PROVINCIAL DOLLARS FOR INFORMATION LEADING TO HIS CAPTURE.
There is a picture of a blond boy with brown rimmed glasses grinning toothily at the camera. A poster I saw before had a boy with blue eyes and no hair at all. Sometimes I'm white, sometimes black, yellow, or brown, or anything else the government thinks I look like.
I lower my head as soon as I see a patrol guard pass my way. Trying to act casual, I whistle a little tune that I don't know the name of. Some long lost lullaby that was forgotten after the United States teared itself apart. The guard gives me a bored look and move on. I release a quiet breath of anticipation that I didn't know I have been holding. A small smile tugs at my lips as I see a large crowd standing in front of a building. I like crowds. It's safer within them because if I'm being chased, it will be harder to find me within a sea of people.
The moment I see a familiar run down building, I find the nearest window sill and within seconds, I have scaled the three story building. Just as expected, Angel sits in the shadows of the chimney. She immediately notices the blood near my shoulder, and she tsks in disapproval. "Shirt off," Angel commands. I obey and let my ten year old little sister work her healing magic. She pours some chemicals over the bullet wound which stung like hell, but I manage to endure it. Angel studies the little hole carefully.
"You should be glad the bullet passed right through," she says, "or else you would be in much worse pain than right now." I smile weakly and ruffle her blond hair that shines like gold in the afternoon sun.
"Thanks, Ange. What would I do without you?" Angel begins to tick the possibilities off her fingers.
"You would bleed to death, die, get infections-" I glare lovingly at her.
"I didn't mean literally," I say. Angel giggles.
"My point is," she says matter a factly. "You'd be helpless without me." Angel finishes bandaging up my shoulder, and I wrap my arms around her despite my shoulder protesting. She snuggles into me and we stay like that for several minutes. Angel is the most dear thing in the world to me, ever since our parents died in a car crash. I had been ten, Angel five. I still remember that dark stormy night on the bridge.
We had been crossing it when an out of control drunk truck driver crashed into our SUV. I wince as the flashback comes to me.
Rain patters on the roof of our car, and I glance at Angel's sleeping form. Dad is humming a romance song while Mom reads a book. She uses the dim light from above to read the tiny font of the thick book she holds in her hands. I squint, trying to see out the window, but there is too much rain and it's too dark. Mom turns to me, looking away from her book in the first time in an hour.
"Honey," she says gently. "Make sure Angel has her blanket on." In her nap, Angel had tossed and turned, causing the blanket I had wrapped around her earlier to fall to the floor. Just as I reached down to retrieve the blanket, there is the sound of wet tires screeching and frantic honking. Angel jolts awake as I see headlights appear through the darkness and rain. Dad swerves the car to avoid the truck, but it is too late.
I scream as the truck collides into the front of our car. The windshield shatters, letting in a torrent of rain, and the entire front caves in. The force of the impact sends our car spinning off the bridge…and into the lake below. Water immediately gushes in through the windshield, and the car begins to fill rapidly with water. Angel is wailing, and silent tears run down my cheeks. One look at my parents tell me it's too late to save them. Angel is the only member left.
I have to save her. "Angel," I say in my best calm voice, but it sounds shaky. "When I say go, get out this car and swim as fast as you can to the surface." Angel nods, taking a deep breath of air just as the car hits the bottom of the lake. The water has reached our hips. I rethink my calculations.
"No!" I blurt out. "Don't hold your breath. The pressure will cause your lungs to burst." Angel exhales. "Ready? Three, two, one, GO!" Simultaneously, we shove open the car doors. Water immediately fills every inch of the car. I spring out of the car. Everything is dark, and the water is freezing cold. My breath is forced out of me in tiny bubbles. My ears are screaming in agony as the pressure slowly crushes me.
I look around frantically for Angel, but the water is black and too dark for me to see anything. The only thing I can do is swim my way to the top. I can't see the surface. As I ascend, I feel myself becoming lightheaded. I'm about to black out. I'll never make it. Just as my eyes close, a hand grabs my arms and hauls me upward. I'm pulled onto a rescue boat with a shivering Angel. Two police officers help us get warm. We even get hot chocolate. "Are you the only two?" one asks. I look down, tears welling in my eyes.
"Yes," I say softly. "We are the only two left."
"Fang?" I'm snapped back to the present. Angel looks at me with concern. "Are you alright?" I notice that my cheeks are wet. Angel looks at me sympathetically. "Are you remembering?"
I nod. Angel hugs me tighter. "It's okay," she murmurs. "I'm right here." I know she is. As much as I hated to break from her embrace, I force myself to stand up. Shrugging my shirt on, I say, "I'm hungry. Wait right here. I'll be back with food." Angel watches as I jump over the roof. She knows I'll be fine.
Well, this is my second fanfic since my first one kinda failed...hope you like this one! Please review!