AN: Happy New Years Eve everyone. Once again thank you to everyone who's left a comment thus far. Also I still have no idea if next chapter will be gory (or if it is how gory) so... make of that what you will. Anyways, please enjoy this chapter in the mean time.

***Miles***

We were still in the mountains and at any other time of the year this would have meant there would have been plenty of camps to raid for cloths, but it was late fall and everyone had packed it in. That left us to drive down the small road until we hit a small town.

"So, tell me again what we're doing." Waylon pulled the little car behind a shop and off of the main street.

"The plan is that I go in, grab a couple of outfits, get back into the car, and then we leave like nothing ever happened."

"So I'm just sitting here, no getting shoved through a window this time?"

"Nope, you just stay right here and honk if you see anyone going into the store"

I was halfway out the door by the time Waylon finished saying "got it"

The street outside was dark, but the alley was like a black hole. I'd been in some dark places and this was in the top ten. Once I actually reached the door I found it locked. Guess this small town manager had some sense. Luckily the door was made of glass, one quick elbow near the handle was enough to shatter a hand sized hole. Reaching through the breach I unlocked the door from the inside.

The store was clearly a mom and pop place, from the outside it had looked like there was an apartment for the owners upstairs. I almost felt bad for "borrowing" some of the things, but none the less I walked through the racks of clothing looking for something that looked like it would fit. I was halfway to a sales rack when a squeak and thud rang out.

It sounded like someone took a quick step in the store.

I can take a look.

Hell no, I'm not letting you run around in a clothing store.

Fighting down old instincts to run and hide I walked through the dim aisles. I had survived Mount Massive and had a supernaturally powerful entity living in my body, there was no reason for me to be scared of a hat rack.

I stopped at a wall display of jeans. I grabbed a couple in my size. I had no idea what size Waylon wore so I just got some a size smaller, hoping that they would work. Walking back to a clothing rack I heard another noise.

Are you sure you don't want me to look around.

I said you're staying put.

It was probably just the building creaking, it wasn't new by any measure. Either way I took a look around. The area was empty and bathed in a dim gray glow from a street lamp outside. Not a thing was out of place except for the door I broke on my way in.

Content with the area I rummaged through the shirts, grabbed one, took a second longer then grabbed a few more. I was just about to make my way out when a third thump came from directly behind me. Before I had time to look behind me something cold and hard came to rest between my shoulder blades.

Shit.

"Drop the clothes"

I did, they hit the ground with a soft ruffle.

"Turn around real slow"

I did that too.

In front of me stood a teenager with a shotgun. This was going swimmingly.

"Hey kid, why don't you put that down, you'll put an eye out"

"You stay quite!"

The kid had some balls. In the dark I couldn't make out many details, but I'm pretty sure he had freckles, and I know that his hair was ketchup red. Seemed about Waylon's height but kind of thick.

For a while I just stood there, he was staring at me with the gun level the whole time.

"So, you going to call the police at some point?" I really didn't need this to drag out, it's been a bad night already.

He seemed caught off guard by the question "Wha-uh, don't tell me what to do!"

"Nice tough act kid, but I've got things to do, and I've already been shot a couple times today, things just haven't been good." I started picking up the clothes from the ground, this kid wasn't going to do anything.

"I said don't move!" he jiggled the shotgun like it was a threat.

"It's clear you're not going to shoot me. And you aren't going to just leave me here to call someone." I didn't look up from the floor "I'm pretty sure it's just you here, isn't it?"

"How did you- I mean no! my dad's up stairs and he's got a fifty cal. hunting rifle, you step out that door and your brains'll be on the pavement."

I stood back up "Mhhmm, and your dad's being a sniper instead of coming down here himself why?"

The kid sputtered for a moment before realizing that he didn't have a reply.

"That's what I thought. Now I'll just get out of your hair, then you can tell whoever you want that the big bad bogeyman broke into you families shop, ok?"

"Out of the shop." Damn the kid had some resolve, he was probably pretty lucky that I had broken into here and not someone who was looking for a fight.

"That's what I thought." I made to leave with the cloths in hand.

The shot gun coked behind me, "Leave the merchandise behind."

I didn't turn around, I barely stopped walking "let's face it, You're not going to shot me over denim and flannel."

We could take him out so easily

I know, but no.

I walked on. Nothing happened, and for a moment I was relieved. Then a car started honking franticly.

The boy clutched back at the shot gun, obviously startled. A few things went through my mind, first panic, then realization. Waylon had seen someone and was trying to warn me.

"Son of a bitch."

I wasn't halfway to the door when someone appeared there. The teen behind me yelped and let off a panic shot. The shotgun murdered the rest of the glass in the door frame, narrowly missing the man who I only just realized was Waylon.

"Hide" was all he said coming through the door.

"Get the hell out of this store!" the kid was yelling now, somehow he still had all the bravado from before.

"Kid, that gun's out of ammo, do yourself a favor and scram"

Before the teen shot some comment back at me lights burst to life from the street outside.

"Shit"

There was a black SUV parked on the street facing the glass front, moving without thinking I crouched behind a rack of clothes

"Waylon!" I whisper yelled.

"They circled around back too" he turned out to be right next to me

"Who is it?"

"it's that lady who was with Drayer, I think her names-"

"Figueroa, ya I remember her."

The other Murkoff worker is here? Two in one night could be fun.

You're not doing anything.

There shop was slowly filling with more light, some flashing some steady, all in tones of red, blue, and bright white. This was going to shit much too fast for my liking. How had she even found us so quickly?

Before I had time to mull much of anything over a voice came over a megaphone from outside.

"Miles Upshur and Waylon Park, we know you're in there, come out now or I will send in armed officers to get you."

It was definitely Figueroa, she sounded just as hostile and belligerent as she had back in the hospital.

"You said there were men out back, how many?" I asked Waylon.

"Two I think"

We might be able to get past that few people, or I might be able to scare them away.

We could take two men in a fight with no problem

Again, no cop killing in my body.

"Wait a second…" that was the kid; he was standing, still holding the empty shotgun "Upshur and Park… you two are bank robbers!"

Great, we're stuck with Skippy the boy genius.

Waylon spoke up, I guess to calm the kid down "neither of us are dangerous, I swear. This is just one huge misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding? You broke into my families store in the middle of the night, there are cops outside and he's covered in blood!" the ginger backed away slowly from the two of us. I'm not sure where he thought he was going, I was between the door and him.

It's times like this in my life that I make stupid decisions. Muttering a quick apology under my breath I stood up and grabbed the kid, quickly spinning him around so the we were both facing the street front windows. While looking straight out the windows it dawned on me just how many police there were out there. It dawned on my just how screwed we really were.