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A MIX OF TWO WORLDS

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Chapter 1: Escape

BANG…!!!

I wake up to the sound of my bedroom door opening. In walks my mom with a duffel bag in hand and a worried look on her face.

"Mom, what's wrong?" I ask.

"Alex, we have to get out of here," she says as she rushes over to my closet and starts stuffing my clothes inside.

CRASH…!!!

The sound of glass breaking downstairs makes her freeze for a second.

"Mom, what was that? What's going on?" I ask as I jump out of bed, quickly getting dressed.

"There's no time to explain. Here, give this to the man you meet at this address," she says, handing me an envelope with an address written at the top in bold ink. She grabs the remainder of my clothes, stuffs them into the bag, and hands it to me.

"ANGELA!"

A voice calls from downstairs. "We know you're here. Give us the boy, and we'll let you go."

"Alex, whatever happens, keep running. Don't slow down or look back—just head straight to that address and give that envelope to the person you find there, got it?" my mom says as she looks me in the eye with an expression I can't place—a mixture of fear, worry, anger, and sadness.

"Mom, tell me what's going on. Maybe I can help."

"Angela, enough games! We know you're here. Give us the boy now!"

"There's no time to explain, Alex. Please, just do as I say. Everything will be clear to you in time, I promise."

I look at my mother as a tear slides down her cheek. In that moment, I want nothing more in the world than to know what's going on so I can help her. It breaks my heart to see her like this.

"Found you."

I whip my head so fast in the direction of the voice that I almost get whiplash. Standing by the door is a slender-looking woman who seems to be in her twenties. She has jet-black hair that reaches her waist and pale blue eyes. Her gaze captivates me so much that I'm in a trance.

"Alex, run!"

The sound of my mother's voice jolts me from my daze. In a second, I'm being shoved out the window. My mom is about to follow, but she's pulled back roughly by her hair.

"Alex, run! Don't worry about me. Just do as I told you!"

Those are the last words I hear from my mother before she's knocked out. That's when my adrenaline kicks in, and my brain starts to register that I'm in deep trouble. I make my way down the house and land on the front lawn. As I get up, I notice three black SUVs parked in our driveway.

"Get him."

I look up to see the woman standing at the window I just came from, staring at me. At once, the doors to the SUVs open, and out come four men, with two more emerging from the house.

"Shit."

I grab my bike from the wall, and just as I'm about to pedal away, I'm grabbed by the collar by one of the guys. I try to squirm free, but his grip is like iron. I recall previous encounters with bullies that felt familiar to this.

They may be stronger, but every man has to protect his family jewels. I knee the guy where the sun doesn't shine, and he loosens his grip. I break free, grab my bike, and zoom out of there. Trees pass by in a blur, and just when I think I've lost them, I hear the sound of engines behind me.

I look over my shoulder and see the same black vehicles closing in. Anger and fear wash over me, giving me an added boost of strength as I recall what just happened moments ago.

I make a turn into the woods, knowing fully well they can't follow me with their cars. They'll have to pursue me on foot. I head toward the nearest bus station once I'm back on the road. I ditch my bike and board the first bus that pulls into the station, which immediately starts moving.

I guess luck is on my side because as soon as we pull out of the station, the black SUVs pass by, going in the opposite direction.

"Sir... Sir... Sir, wake up."

I groan as I sit up. A lovely lady stands along the aisle, gently shaking my shoulder to wake me.

"Sir, we have arrived at the final stop," she says with a smile.

"Thank you," I say as I grab my bag and jump off the bus. It's been three days since that incident, and right now, I'm in a city I've never set foot in. I fish out the envelope from my jacket to look over the address. I put the envelope back into my jacket, just in case I need to ditch my bag and make a run for it. I can't afford to lose the only thing that might make sense of what's going on.

I hail a cab and hop in. I give the address to the driver, and he speeds off immediately. Thirty minutes later, I'm in a quiet neighborhood, moving past lovely houses. The cab pulls up, and the driver tells me this is the place.

I hand him his money and jump out. I walk up the front porch and ring the doorbell. A minute later, the door is opened by a guy in his mid-thirties. He's tall, with sharp brown eyes and a body that says, Yeah, I work out.

"Hello, can I help you?" he says in a deep voice.

"Sorry to bother you, sir, but I was told by my mother to give you this," I say, handing over the envelope. He looks it over before breaking the seal. He pulls out a letter and starts reading.

As he reads, I notice his eyes squint and his eyebrows furrow. Just as I'm about to ask if everything is all right, he ushers me inside and bolts the door. He leads me toward the living room and retreats to the kitchen. Moments later, he returns with a glass of juice and some sandwiches.

"Here, son. You must be hungry."

I thank him before accepting the food, and we sit across from each other. I immediately start eating since I haven't properly eaten in the past few days—too scared to stop for a real meal out of fear of being caught by my pursuers. If it weren't for the money Mom put in my duffel bag, I would have been dead already. Being twelve, alone, and hungry is not a good thing.

"So, you're Angela's kid. You've grown since the last time I saw you. I'm Jason, by the way," he says.

"Alex," I reply.

"Listen, Alex. I know you're tired, but I need you to tell me what happened—exactly what happened, okay? Can you do that for me?"

I nod, then drop the sandwich I had in hand and begin narrating what happened three days ago.

It's been two hours since I began telling Jason everything. Each time I say something, he asks me to recall specific details—how many people there were, how they dressed, the way they talked, and how they looked.

"They looked like kidnappers," I snap, angered by his countless questions and the fact that I'm still in the dark about what's going on. My mom is who knows where—kidnapped by a gang in black for reasons I can't fathom—and here I am talking to a guy who thinks he's Batman.

"Look, Alex. I'm trying to help, and the only way I can is if you tell me exactly what happened."

"Why don't you just call the police and tell them what I told you? They can help," I say.

"The police can't help your mother, Alex. We'll just be putting her in more danger. Why do you think she gave you instructions to come to me instead of the police?" he says. "Your mom is fine for now. They were using her to get to you. Luckily, you managed to escape."

"Why me? What do they want from me?"

"You're very special, Alex. That's why. You're something no one ever thought could be possible."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Get some sleep, Alex. You must be exhausted. We'll talk more when you're fully rested. I believe what happened has taken a toll on you."

I'm about to protest, but my body says otherwise. He gets up and leads me upstairs. He shows me to a room and leaves me alone.

I never noticed how tired I was until I lay on the bed. Exhaustion from the past three days washes over me like a blanket, and before I know it, I'm out like a light.

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