Zak's feet thudded rhythmically through the city streets. He didn't fell anything but a cruel coldness that felt like fear's mistress. No light to keep him company. No moon shined tonight. The stars themselves seemed to burn out. He found himself unable to hear the hissing hoard of nagas so he stopped to catch his breath and to calm the furious beating of his heart. He swallowed air giving his lungs relief that they so desperately craved.
"I… hate… days like this," he panted. Everything in life was going wrong. He felt a flickering feeling bubbling inside his body. It wasn't entirely unpleasant. He looked around at his surroundings. He listened intently. He didn't hear nagas. He heard an engine. One that sounded familiar. A jet pack. He cursed under his breath and darted into an alley. Lesson number seventeen, if it is unknown if an ally or enemy is nearby, hide and presume an enemy. He hid in a thankfully empty dumpster. It still stunk to the high heavens. He did his best to avoid gagging as he peered out to the streets to see who had the unknown engine. The sound grew louder.
He strained to hear where it was coming from. But he realized it wasn't in front of him. He cursed again. It was a jet pack's engine. Cautiously he looked up. He jumped from the dumpster and began running again, with an all too familiar person following.
"Zak!"
Zak ran even faster. Yep, it was Doyle. Zak ran back in the direction he came. Doyle was coming up fast and the plan of escape was suicide. But it was the only one he had. He saw the nagas coming his way. He ran right into a group of them. Doyle followed in after. Zak squirmed his way through, avoiding being caught. His uncle though was fighting a group of them. He glanced back and smiled. Seeing his good-for-nothing-traitor-ex-uncle dealing with a group of nagas was almost as fun as pretending to be a kid again like he did hours ago. Funny. It felt like days. But, also how everything blurred together. The past was a jumbled mixed mess. The future was unclear yet dim. Now… that was all he could live for now.
He turned sharply down a different road and entered a residential area. He heard the songs of the nightingales faintly. He was surprised that they would be out with nagas nearby. But then again nightingales weren't all that big. Barely even a snack for them. More energy to catch than what would've come from it. Though hearing an abrupt stop make him freeze for a second. The likelihood of a young naga being here was slim to none. Although given the world that he had grown up in, he didn't doubt it. He slipped behind a group of bushes when he felt something scrap his leg. Looking at the ground he saw the hand of Tsul 'Kalu. He recalled pocketing it earlier when Argost gave it to him. It slipped out of his pocket and scrapped his ankle. A small bit of blood trickled. Nothing to worry about. Nagas did not have a good sense of smell. Though he had second thoughts when he felt a sand papery tongue like flicker over the blood.
Surprised he jumped out from behind the bush and into someone. It wasn't a normal person. It was about one in the morning after all. He turned to see someone who was familiar. Well, something that was familiar. The creature that lived with the Saturday's. The one that attacked him in his bedroom. Why did things keep getting worse?
"Jesus," he grunted. The creature looked down at him. Zak wanted to escape. Escape and help his family. He saw a familiar flicker of Orange light cast of her the creature's eyes. His flickering eyes. He let out a satisfied smirk. Time to test the real power of his little gift.
Kay. Done for now. Please review.