It was a clear, cold night in Stockbridge, Georgia. The streets were empty with the exception of a few pedestrians and one or two cars. There were two such young people walking about, not talking very much, but seemingly just enjoying their presents. They were both in their early twenties. The girl had dark blonde hair and blue eyes. She was tall, but still a good bit short then her partner. The boy had light blonde hair and green eyes.
"Why do you want to go into the army," the girl asked.
The boy stopped and turned to her, "You know why," he said, immediately getting serious, "If I don't go soon then they might find me and will do something to me or worse to you if they find me."
The girl nodded "I know, but if only you could hide at home, "she gave him a sympathetic look.
The boy smiled in jest, "Becky, you're just trying to get me to stay by making me feel sorry for you."
They laughed, "Of course!" And they continued to walk on a little further when a black beat up car drove by them, but stopped and pulled over. Becky looked at the boy, because he stopped in his tracks.
"What's wrong, Trent!" she asked him.
Trent immediately turned, grabbed Becky's arm, and ran. "They found me," he told her through quick gasps.
The car turned around and drove up next to them. The window rolled down and a gun was pointed at them. Gunshots were heard and Becky gave a small scream. The next shot fired landed in Trent's shoulder and he fell with a moan of pain.
"Trent!" Becky screamed.
She ran, kneeled at his side, and carefully examined his wound till a tall man pushed her, harshly aside. He and another tall man roughly dragged the hurt and bleeding Trent to the car. They pushed him into the back set and got in. The front passenger door opened and an older man walked out waving his gun at Becky and he smiled evilly as he focused the gun at her.
"I see he has finally found a girl that doesn't despise him." He walked up to her and looked at her intently. He was just about to grab her as well when they could hear the sound of sirens coming towards them. Quickly he ran into the car and looked out the open window. "I'll come back for you!" he said and followed the cop cars out of the street
Becky had not made one sound the whole time, but only gave a hateful glare. She got up stiffly and wiped Trent's blood onto her pants, then her own blood off her brow. Quickly she walked home and picked up the phone. It took some time to dial the number because she was still upset from the earlier happenings. Finally she was able to dial the right number and waited for it to be answered.
"Hello," said a feminine voice on the other line, "How can I help you?"
Becky spoke quickly and as calmly as she could, "May I please speak to Murdock?"