Chapter 1
Jake wasn't afraid of death. Not in the slightest. In fact, he actually favored it over the alternative, which is why sprinting through a rail yard filled with 240 ton freight trains traveling at sixty miles per hour didn't faze him. He was sprinting, focusing all of his energy on not tripping over the network of rails and ties. He knew that the StaHo officers would be hot on his trail in a few minutes, if they weren't already. Jake twisted around as he ran, trying to see if there was anyone following. The rail yard spotlights made it impossible to see.
"Stop running! You have nowhere to go!" Jake felt his heart sink. He hoped to have made it farther than this. Suddenly, bright white halogen light blinded him, stopping Jake dead in his tracks.
"Kneel down and put your hands on your head!" The voice on the megaphone seemed to come from everywhere. Jake complied, kneeling down and placing his hands over his head. The halogen vanished, leaving only the officers dim flashlights to cut through the dark. Jake could now see the silhouettes of four officers walking toward him, tranquilizer guns at the ready. He turned his head downwards, feeling utterly empty. Something caught his eye just behind him. The rail was vibrating slightly, like a tuning fork. The spark of an idea ignited in Jake's brain, which might not be his own for much longer. The officers were only a few hundred feet from him, walking purposefully towards Jake. The rail was making a small noise now, jiggling the gravel beside it. The officers had cut the distance between them in half, and had started jogging.
"Stay where you are!" The megaphone guy was yelling again. The rail was vibrating crazily now, and the train's light was slicing through the darkness towards Jake. A horn blasted startled the officers, and they turned their attention to the oncoming train for a second. That was all Jake needed. He threw himself backward over the rails, landing sideways in the gravel on the other side. One officer looked back, noticing what had happened. Jake saw him break into a sprint toward him, pulling his tranquilizer pistol at the same time.
"We need to get-" was all Jake heard before the roaring freight train ripped past, creating a barrier between him and the officers. A temporary barrier and he still had nowhere to run. The train yard was flat, with no cover anywhere close. As the train's freight cars were whipping past, Jake knew what he had to do.
"I know I'm going to regret this," he muttered, as he stuck his hand out, reaching for any of the crisscross of bars on the freight cars. His hand hit something. Hard. Jake screamed, closing his fingers around whatever it was. Jake was torn off the ground like a rag doll. The pain followed like lighting, tearing up and down his arm. His body smacked against the train, sending splitting pain throughout his torso. Jake's arm was on fire, and he felt his grip weakening. The metal was cold and unforgiving, and covered in dew. Jake's hand finally slipped, and he fell sideways. He felt a great crack on the side of his head, and then he was enveloped in sweet, sweet darkness.