THE WILD CAT

Chapter 2

The footsteps stopped right outside the corner where I was hiding. I held my breath, praying they wouldn’t find me. My phone buzzed again, and I knew it was only a matter of time before they discovered me.

The man’s shadow loomed over me, and I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable. Just then, a loud crash echoed through the house. The man turned away, distracted by the noise. I took the chance to scramble to my feet and hide deeper into the shadows.

“Check upstairs!” the leader barked, sending two men running towards the source of the crash. I realized someone else might be in the house, someone who could be my savior or another victim.

I crouched behind a large armchair, peeking through the gap. The remaining men were still focused on the noise upstairs. My mind raced, trying to come up with a plan. I needed to escape, but how? The front door was too risky, and I couldn’t go back the way I came.

A sudden shout from upstairs drew the men’s attention completely. “We found someone!” one of them yelled. In the confusion, I saw my chance. I took a deep breath and made a dash for the kitchen, where I knew there was a back door.

I reached the kitchen, my heart pounding in my ears. The door was locked, but I found the key hanging on a hook nearby. My hands trembled as I unlocked the door, praying I wouldn’t make any noise.

Just as I swung the door open, I heard footsteps behind me. I turned to see one of the men pointing a gun at me. “Stop right there,” he growled. My body froze, fear paralyzing me.

But then, out of nowhere, Susan appeared behind the man, swinging a heavy vase she must have picked up from the living room. It shattered against his head, and he crumpled to the floor.

“Run, Riley!” she screamed. I didn’t need to be told twice. I bolted out the door, Susan right behind me. We ran through the backyard and into the darkness of the night, not stopping until we were far away from the house.

“Susan,” I said, breathing heavily as she tried to catch her own breath too. “How did you get here?” I asked, totally blank, as everything felt confusing.

“I thought about coming to your house because I left my purse in one of your bags,” Susan started explaining how she decided to come to my house. I could see the fear in her eyes as she began shaking. “I decided to use your secret ladder to get into your room.”

“And… and I saw how…” Susan began stuttering as tears started rushing down her cheeks. “Susan, calm down,” I said, trying to soothe her.

“I saw your parents get shot in the head,” Susan’s words made my heart clench. How could I have forgotten them?

The images of my parents getting shot in the head kept on breaking my heart repeatedly, leaving no trace of happiness. I felt like I was drowning in sorrow, each recollection a fresh wave of pain crashing over me.

I fell to the ground. “Father, Mother,” I muttered, trying to process what was going on, hoping it was just a dream.

“Riley,” Susan cried, trying to help me up, but I couldn’t move as I didn’t have control of my body anymore.

“I have to save them,” I said to myself, even though I knew deep down they were no more. My thoughts were far from normal as I yearned to see my parents.

I pushed Susan away as she held onto me before running back to my house, not caring about the consequences. I kept running as I heard Susan’s voice behind me, begging me to stop.

“Riley, please stop!” Susan kept calling after me, but I pushed my legs to run faster.

I reached my house only to stop in my tracks, my eyes widening in horror as I saw my home engulfed in flames. People had gathered around, trying to put out the fire.

“Mom!” I cried out and was about to dash into the fire when I felt a pull back, someone holding onto me.

“You have to stop, Riley,” Susan screamed. “Please don’t, you can’t go into the fire,” she begged, drawing me back. Within minutes, ambulances and fire trucks arrived, and firefighters rushed to combat the blaze.

I watched helplessly as they tried to extinguish the fire. “Susan,” a voice called, making her release me.

I seized the opportunity to run, not caring to check who had called Susan. I sprinted towards the house, desperation driving me forward.

I was about to enter the building when a police officer dragged me back. “Ma’am, you can’t enter the building,” she said as I struggled to get free from her grip.

“Let me go, my parents are in there!” I yelled, trying to break free.

“You can’t go in there,” she repeated, her grip firm. I was about to shout again when two stretchers emerged from the house. “We were able to find the bodies,” I heard one of the masked nurses say, their voices heavy with the weight of tragedy. The bodies were covered in white cloths.

I slowly walked towards the stretchers, my heart pounding in my chest. I proceeded to open one of the coverings, and the nurse was about to stop me, but a man who seemed to be in charge signaled her to let me be. I lifted the cloth, revealing the charred remains. The bodies were burnt beyond recognition. My eyes scanned over the remains, searching desperately for any sign of familiarity.

Then, I saw it—the same necklace my mother had been wearing earlier that evening. My heart sank as the reality hit me like a freight train. These were my parents. The shock was so overwhelming that I felt numb. The world around me seemed to blur and fade away.

A woman appeared beside me, her face pale and eyes wide with disbelief. She gently placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t think. All I could do was stare at the remains, my mind struggling to process the horror in front of me. The police officer who had held me back earlier approached, her expression softening with sympathy.

“We’ll need to ask you some questions,” she said gently.

“No,” I said, shifting back from the body. They drove the stretchers away, leaving me standing there, feeling down and hopeless. Suddenly, I heard a voice that belonged to Susan. She was screaming at someone.

“Susan,” I muttered, quickly walking toward the sound. I found Susan talking to her parents, and they didn’t look happy.

“Why don’t you guys understand? She is my best friend. I can’t just leave her like that,” I heard Susan say, her voice filled with frustration.

“There is no way you will ever bring that kind of girl into my house. She is a bad influence, Suzy,” her mother said, disgust evident in her voice.

“Riley isn’t like that, Mom. Don’t you have any sympathy? The poor girl just lost her parents and has nowhere to go,” Susan tried reasoning with her parents.

I watched them exchange words, hating how Susan portrayed me as someone to be pitied.

“She will never stay with us, and that’s final. You left home just to come here. You aren’t like this, Suzy. You used to be a good girl until that brat entered your life,” her mother spat out. “Who knows what her parents did that got them killed?” she added, her husband trying to calm her down.

Tears welled up in my eyes. Susan was about to say something when she noticed me, and her face turned pale. “Uh, Riley,” she said, and I could see the plea in her eyes, begging me not to take her mother’s words to heart.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered, and with that, my legs began running again. I heard Susan call after me, but I kept running, seeing her mother dragging her back to stop her from following me.

No one wants me. My parents were the only ones who could entertain my nonsense, but now I have no one—absolutely no one. The tears in my eyes made my path blurry as I kept running. Suddenly, a van almost hit me, causing me to stop in my tracks as the van screeched to a halt in front of me without hitting me.

But it was too late; panic welled into my body, causing my world to turn black. I vaguely heard the man calling after me as everything faded.

My eyes twitched as I woke up, feeling a sharp headache. I immediately shot open my eyes, scanning the unfamiliar surroundings. “Where am I?” I panicked, standing up.

A voice, accompanied by footsteps, echoed through the room. “You’re awake.” I turned my head to see a man in his fifties, around the same age as my father.

“Who are you?” I asked, looking at the man strangely.

“Your uncle,” he uttered.

My mind swirled with questions. “Uncle?” I repeated, not sure if I had an uncle, as my father never told me about any relatives, and neither did my mother. In fact, I didn’t think I had any relatives.

“You have a lot to know and the truth about who your father really is,” the man who claimed to be my uncle said.

“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice shaky.

“Your father was an undercover assassin,” he told me, making my eyes widen.