A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Good guesses, everyone. Only time will tell ;).

Disclaimer: We own nothing.


.KILL THE MESSENGER.

2


Zack shivered against the cool October air as it blew against his body, but he was too numb to notice. He walked slowly along, feeling dazed and lightheaded, trying to make himself understand what he had just witnessed. Maybe it was all a dream? Maybe he had just imagined the whole thing?

But the scene quickly unfolded in his mind once more as he remembered the blood.

All that blood.

Zack shuddered at the thought and picked up his pace. Before he knew it he was running as fast as he could, away from the blood, the smell, the body...

The dead body.

He stumbled to the corner of 21st Street where the Tipton stood just a block away and stopped to catch his breath. He felt his head swimming and his insides churning. With one swift movement, Zack threw himself against the garbage bin on the end of the sidewalk and violently emptied the contents of his stomach. His whole body shaking, he lifted his head out of the rancid bin and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed as two young adults passed by, snickering.

"Someone had too much to drink tonight," he heard one of the young men utter to his friend.

Zack wanted to run over to them and scream that someone he knew was dead, and he saw the killers. But his feet were rooted to the ground next to the garbage bin as the words of a murderer flew through his head.

"We'll kill you and your family and everybody you care about if you even think about telling!"

Another wave of nausea rushed through Zack's body and he put his hand against a lightpost to steady himself. It's one thing to witness a murder, but to witness the murder of a friend and to have your own life threatened because of it is on a completely different level. And they were around his age, too, that was apparent in their panic stricken speech. But the fact that they were Zack's age wasn't the most disturbing part of this whole nightmare.

The intensity in the apparent leader's voice as he threatened Zack and the calm demeanor he had as he held the gun to Zack's temple was the most frightening part of the ordeal. The words came floating back into his mind once more.

"We'll kill you and your family and everybody you care about if you even think about telling!"

The faces of his mother and father popped into his head, followed by his brother's. He imagined them sitting on the couch, laughing and watching TV, as the three teenaged killers came bursting through the door to their suite, laughing maniacally as they shot his entire family. The last image he saw was the look of terror in his brother's eyes.

Zack let out a stifled cry and shook his head. He had to do something.

He made his way over to the payphone across from the hotel and stared at it. With trembling hands, he picked up the phone and dialed.

"911, what's your emergency?"

Zack's ears were pounding as he opened his mouth to tell the operator what had happened. But nothing came out.

"Hello? What's your emergency?"

Zack squeaked, "S-s-someone's been..." He took a breath. "Someone's been killed."

"Alright. Aare you okay, sir? Are you in a safe place?"

Zack began to shake. "The alley next to the music shop on 5th," he practically whispered.

"Okay. Sir, I need you to give me your name."

Fingers frozen on the phone, Zack shook his head slightly and opened his mouth to protest; to explain that his family's lives depended on him remaining anonymous.

"Sir? Are you still there? I need your name."

Zack slammed the phone down and put his hand over his chest to feel his pounding heart. He did the right thing. At least, he hoped he had done the right thing.

"Calm down, man," he said to himself as he walked across the street and into the hotel. Once outside of his suite, he hesitated before opening the door. His mom would be in the ballroom, but he was sure Cody would be waiting on the other side of the door with a book in hand. If he could just slip by him...

He opened the door and sure enough, there was Cody with a copy of Of Mice and Men in his hands. He glanced up and smiled. "Hi," he said lightly. Zack tried to act as normal as possible.

"What's up?" he said, running a hand through his hair and hanging up his jacket.

Cody furrowed his brow. "You ok, Zack? Why are your hands shaking so bad?" he asked, concerned.

Zack squeezed his eyes tightly before he turned around to face him. Leave it to Cody to notice everything. "It's pretty cold outside," he lied, rushing off into his bedroom. He quickly shut the door and leaned against it. Holding his hands out in front of him, Zack noticed just how unstable they were.

He tried taking deep breaths, but he couldn't; they came out short and ragged. He slid down against the door and held his hands over his face.

Didn't this kind of thing only happen in the movies?


In an alleyway off of the hotel was a man. Calmly he watched guests come and go, calculating mentally how long it took each one to depart from the glowing building. There was a large clock across the street, flashing melodrammatically against a looming bank (long since closed), but he did not need this clock.

As was habit with him, the man slowly peeled back the sleeve of his shirt to study his watch.

It was 12:35 a.m.


To Be Continued

Please review! (Any thoughts?)