Never far behind

Chapter one. The Beginning

Arman ran through the forest, dark mist swirling around his arm braces that were made of the same dark mist, but compacted. Arman didn’t have the energy to hold the braces together like he usually did. He’d been running for over an hour trying to escape the authorities. Most people called them “The Agents”. Not the most creative name, but it fit them well.

Arman had manifested his abilities almost nine years ago, a record among the Demons. “Demons” was the name that the Agents had given to those with abilities, but Arman preferred to call himself a wizard. That was what his dad called him when he was young. He was really into Harry Potter, witch was actually how his parents had met. His dad had been behind his mom in line for the first book signing of J.K Rolling. They got into a heavy debate about Nifflers, and by the time they got to the front of the line they where talking like they had been friends all their young lives. Arman’s dad must have told him the story a thousand times along with other stories about “the love of his life”, as he put it. Arman thought that being called a wizards was a little weird when he was younger, and he still thought it was a little childish, but it reminded him of his dad, who had passed away a few years ago, and his mom who had passed away in child birth.

Arman heard many sets of heavy boots behind him, maybe fifty meters away from him now. Even though his legs screamed for him to stop, and his lungs begged for at least a few seconds rest, he carried on running.

Then he noticed a large rock, a place to hide from the agents. Arman ran around the rock to obscure his pursuers view of him, then dropped to the ground, and pulled himself under the small ledge where the rock was about a foot off the ground. It reminded him of when he was younger running, and giggling as his dad chased behind him. Then he would go under the table pulling his knees to his chest and burying his face In between his knees snickering as his dad pretended he couldn’t find him.

Thundering foot steps reminded Arman that this wasn’t a silly game and the Agents wouldn’t pretend that he was there. He pulled the dark mist and shadows from his wrist and and covered himself, then created a phantom figure that continued running in his place.

Arman held his breath as the Agents ran past him even though his lungs desperately needed air. Only when the agents had passed by him, did he dare to breath, and another five minutes after that before he lowered his shadows.

The Adrenaline of the chase had worn off, and his body felt like lead. His vision started to blur, and Ashly’s face filled his mind, and his promise to her. That was last thing Arman saw before the darkness consumed him, pushing him in a dreamless void outside of reality.

._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._.

Ashly sat in the corner of the underground library, previously and old shelving store, reading the first Old Guard novel. The book had seen better days, now it’s spine was full of creases, and the pages were separated a half-centimeter, to a full centimeter, opposed to the unseparated pages of the newer books the looked almost like a solid block.

Ashly had read the book so many times, that she had lost count, and despite her current situation, had watched the new movie. It was by far her favorite book series, a heathy mix of good and evil, adventure, friendship and betrayal.

Ashly marked her page with an old add for Supermart, a small local business that had been closed for sanitary issues a few years back. She looked up at the clock on the far wall. It was well past six O’clock, more than an hour past the time Arman was supposed to be back from his mission. Ashly wouldn’t have been worried if it where anyone else, but Arman had a thing about punctuality.

Ashly pulled out and old flip phone, it was kind of crappy, but it was cheap, and untraceable. She clicked on contacts and scrolled down. She clicked on contact “#4342168412”. It wasn’t Arman’s actual phone number, just some old ladies that she had found in a phone book from the eighty’s. The phone rang once, then it went to voicemail. A advertisement for Fruitmire's Ice cream played in a Scoobydoo voice. Arman's phone was either dead or he declined the call on purpose. Both of those thing meant something bad had had happened, Arman never let his phone die, and he never powered it off, no matter what the situation was. If he diclined the call, or in another case someone declined it for him... well that was almost worse. Even if he couldn't talk on the phone Arman would always answer the call. 

Arman had already broken two of his "rules" that he had with himself, only a few things would prevent him from doing that like capture or death or....

"Hey, Ash have you seen Arman?"

Ashly looked over in the direction of the voice. It was Maze, the only person she didn't want to ask that question. As the team leader Maze would know where Arman was if he were either late, or not able to answer the phone, or in this case both.

Ashly open and then closed her mouth, considering answering his question with a question of her own, it wouldn't be hard to come up with one considering that she had about a thousand swirling around in her mind. But instead she told him what she already knew,

"Armans not back yet, and his phone is going straight to voicemail."

As Much as she tried to hide the worry in her voice, it still was there, and Maze's expression scuffled any hope that he hadn't heard it. He was more serious now, no longer carrying the worry free persona that he normally had. His voice was steady, hiding any signs of worry,

 "I'll check in with Wire, maybe he'll pick up reports or radio chatter from the agents on Arman's whereabouts."

Ashly hated the fact that Maze used Michel's code name, just as he had used her when he first spoke to her, she also hated the fact that his name was a stupid code name, but it was the only name he had ever given her to call him by. No one in the Doves knew his real name. "The Doves". That was the stupid name he had given to their little group, he said it symbolized Peace, Hope, and Love. Ashly was pretty positive not a single person in their group believed in Peace, and Hope, and most of them had given up on loving anyone, because anyone you loved got taken away. 

After a few seconds Maze spoke again, "-and Ash, Please call everyone in, no one is out while Arman is missing."