1Okay, now comes the time in the story where I will have to do POV switches...whenever a characters' name is written in bold that is where it will switch, okey dokey?

Lisa

"Jackson, we need to go!" she screamed, trying to wrench away from Jackson. He ignored her but pulled out his gun. The zombie-like creature was now only about two feet away as Lisa finally stumbled to the ground. She limped awkwardly to the barn and leaned against it. Lisa watched in horror as the infected got the associates first, attacking and biting them and filling their veins with infected blood. Lisa urged herself not to throw up as it swooped to Jackson. He shot at it and it fell to the ground, still writhing and gasping. The associates became mad with the sickness also and began to chase after her. She screamed and tried to hobble away, but blindly stumbled into a pair of arms. Lisa screamed again but the masked person stood in front of her with a bat and beat the associates dead. Lisa sank to the ground as the man (or woman, she realized) wiped off the bat.

"Were you bitten?" a new voice said. It was another masked person, but this time Lisa realized that it was a woman with a thick British accent. Both Jackson and Lisa shook their heads.

Lisa looked at Jackson. He was covered in blood not his own, and his suit was completely ruined.

Good, she laughed in her head despite the trauma she'd just experienced.

Jackson shook his head again. "What the fuck was-"

The woman cut him off by curtly saying, "Follow me."

Jackson looked at Lisa with a confused glance as the two strangers led them into a stucco house nearby.

The woman threw open the door and took off her mask. "Hannah, come here."

The other figure took off his mask and his eyes met Lisa's. She almost gasped. He looked shockingly a lot like Jackson, expect with short hair and a bit skinnier. His eyes didn't hold the fierce cruelness that Jackson's did, although they were the same crystalline color.

A girl entered the room. She looked to be about fifteen, with light brown hair and a pretty face. She looked shyly at the floor.

"Who are you?" the woman asked the Americans.

Jackson spoke before Lisa could open her mouth. "We came to meet a Mr. Keefe in London. We're from America. I'm Jackson Rippner, and this is my girlfriend, Lisa Reisert," he roughly seized Lisa's arm. "We made a private landing." Lisa glared at him.

"I'm Selena, this is Jim," the black woman said. "And that was the dumbest thing in the world to do."

"Shit idea," Jim muttered, shaking his head. Lisa looked at Jackson with a look that clearly said, Told you so.

Jim

Jim knocked on Hannah's bedroom door and let himself in. The woman named Lisa sat on the windowsill. Hannah sat on her bed next to her, making polite chatter. Lisa looked pale and shaky.

"I'll go get some tea," Hannah looked pointedly at Jim. He nodded. Perhaps he could figure out what was wrong.

"Hi," he said politely in his strong Irish accent. "Can I sit here?" He gestured to the spot next to Lisa. She nodded.

She was pretty, he thought, looking at her long auburn curls and brown eyes. His heart leapt a bit. She looked nice, not cold and sometimes uncaring like Selena often was...he was sure that she wasn't the dainty type that couldn't take care of herself though, she just suspected she had feelings...though looking at her face he could see a past more troubled than his own.

Stop, he told himself. She has a boyfriend. Suddenly he noticed the tears sliding down her face.

"You alright?" he asked worriedly. She shook her head and looked out the window.

"He's not my boyfriend," she began. Jim frowned.

"What-"

"I met him..on a plane," she began the story. "He seemed like such a nice guy at first...then as soon as we're up in the air he tells me his...plot. I have to call the hotel I work at and tell them to switch Mr. Keefe's room so he can be assassinated, or...he'll kill my dad," she fought back further tears. Jim looked at her. "I made the call, but as soon as the plane stopped I...um, well I jabbed a pen in his throat and ran away. I called the hotel to have them get everyone out of the hotel, because it was going to be blown up, and then I go home, and my dad's okay. So I get ready to go over to the hotel and Jackson is standing in my kitchen and then basically he tried to kill me in my own home."

Jim stared at her, dumbfounded. Fucking hell. "Whoa."

"Oh, that's not all," she rolled her eyes. "I eventually won after he threw me down the stairs. He went to court with a hole from a heel in his leg, a hole in his throat, and two gunshot wounds, one caused by my dad. But at the trial, they declared him not guilty. No fucking way do I know how he got out of that, but then when I got on another plane two days ago to visit my mom in New York, his associate kidnapped me and brought me to Jackson's house where Jackson told me we were going to London to try and assassinate Keefe again and if I didn't help him he'd kill my sister Chelsi. And now...I don't know what to do. Even with all this infection shit he's not going to stop trying to get to London to Keefe's hotel...and frankly, Jim, my sister is going to die. I'm so scared." Her tears fell in a torrent and she leaned her head against the window.

Jim looked at her. He wanted so badly to hold her and tell her she'd be okay. But he couldn't. She hardly knew him. It wouldn't be fair to cause her even more confusion.

Jim peered into her eyes. "It will be okay," he told her softly. "I can help you."