Anthony's Point of View

"Come on, Anthony, we're close!" Ian yelled back behind his shoulder as the sun rose over Abbey Avenue. I shielded my eyes from the bright morning sun.

"Yeah, yeah. You're going to surprise me and say we still have a mile to go!" I growled. My legs ached from my shin to my thighs. I hated running this early every Thursday. But I loved Ian (as a brother, anyway), and I joined him so he wouldn't go alone. The small city he ran in wasn't dangerous, but I still didn't want him to be by himself. What can I say? I'm a bit of a protective person.

Finally, I sighed, which turned into a choking, panted cough. Here's Hannover. Almost on the path to home.

Up ahead, however, Ian turned to the left with a big smile on his face. "Ian!" I yelled in despair. My feet dragged on the concrete to a stop. My flopping hands fell to my knees as I caught my breath. "You said we were heading home! It's 5:30; we have to get home by 6:00!"

Ian began to back-peddled as he explained he wanted to head home this way. He said he simply got a feeling there was 'something telling him to go that way'. He continued on, and I rolled my eyes but followed. Once something is in Ian's mind, there's no way to change it.

So we headed down 1st Avenue to the south side of Sacramento on a detour. Grumpy, I dragged along behind him, wishing anything that we were home already. Finally, Ian slowed to a walk and I eventually caught up. We panted together as we strolled along that early morning.

"Hey, we got here early!" Ian perked with barely a sweat. Noticing his shoe was tied, he plopped down to fix it. "You want to grab some breakfast before we head back to my place?"

I laughed and walked on. He'll catch up. "Of course we got here early! I'm running with a cross-country runner at the crack of dawn! And hell yeah, I want food! You're buying, too! You owe me, big time!"

No response came from behind me. Was he actually mad? "Oh, come on, Ian!" I joked as I turned to him. "It was just a~!" But when I faced him, he didn't look like he was mad.

Ian looked absolutely terrified as he stared into an alley way.

Slowly, I leaned over to see what he was looking at. "What…what's wrong, Ian?"

He said nothing, but raised a shaky finger to behind a dumpster. "Look."

With him unable to move, I made the first step and walked gingerly to where his finger led. Out behind the trash can was a small, dirty hand seemingly reaching out. It was so filthy that at first, I flew back; I just knew whoever it was, was dead.

But it moved. A pinky twitched with life, drawing my attention back. "Oh my God, Ian. They're alive!"

Immediately, I began removing the trash bags that suffocated them. Ian screamed behind me to leave it alone, but whoever was there needed help. After bags and bags, I found them. They were dressed in a black sweatshirt and jeans, the hood covering their head. A moan came from them as they became responsive. I placed a gentle hand on their back, but even this made them start squirming around. They bounded up and leaned against the wall, trying to run away.

"Ssh!" I calmed in a quiet voice. "It's okay, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you. Can you tell me your name?" Slowly, I leaned over to them and reached for the hood. "Please?"

With a quick flick of my wrist, I threw their hood off. Instantly, I gasped in horror.

Lucy, as pale as a snow, stared at me in utter fear and panic. Sweat and tears dampened her face as she tried to crawl backwards and escape, terrified I would hurt her.

"Lucy!" I cried, ushering Ian over to us. "Lucy!" I couldn't help but grab her arm to keep her still. At the touch of my hand, Lucy spun towards me and finally looked me in the eye.

"A~Anthony?" She whispered in a hoarse voice. More tears formed in the corner of her eyes.

"Yeah, Lucy," I comforted as I pulled her into my lap. She collided in, apparently too weak to sit up. She was freezing cold and her clothes were ripped, dirty, and wet. "It's me and Ian. Why…why are you here?"

"I~." She began, but couldn't finish. "I~"

"Wait!" I sprung back to reality and shot my head to Ian. "What are we doing?! Call an ambulance, call the police! Do something, we need help!"

"No!" Lucy gained a spurt of energy and flew off my lap. "You can't, you can't call anyone!"

Ian still had the phone pressed to his ear. "What? Of course we are, Lucy! Look where you are!"

"No, you can't!" She cried in despair. Lucy looked toward me in pleading eyes and gripped my shirt. "Anthony, you guys can't call anyone; no one can know. Please!" She begged. Her grip loosened on my sweaty T-shirt. "Please…"

She began to fade away again. I was afraid she would before we could help her. "Lucy, please! Let us get you to safety!"

"Just bring me to someone's house, somewhere else but here!"

"No!" Ian refused from my side. I could hear the dial tone of 9-1-1. "You are going to the hospital, that's~!"

"~This is bigger than just me!" She cried and fell back further. I grabbed her head before it hit the concrete ground. "What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Please," Lucy begged. "I'll explain later. I promise, just get me inside. I…" And she was gone. Lucy lost consciousness in my arms, still shivering in the cold morning air.

I turned to Ian, who was about to press the call button. I shook my head. "Something's wrong here, Ian. Something's really wrong."

Ian stared back. "Something 'bigger than just her'?" I nodded.

Ian ended the unconnected call and lowered the phone. "Alright," He finally agreed, still lowering his head, unsure. "But we take her to my house. Now. We'll figure out what to do from there."