Chapter One

Adam stumbled down the street, tears streamed down his cheeks and his fingers stung horribly. He tried to bend them, but when he did the wounds cracked and fresh blood sprung forth from the cuts. Adam let out a blood curdling scream and cursed his sister, not caring who heard him. He did, however, whip his head to the side when a yellow light came on in a house and he saw the shadow of a human walk in front of it. As he stood in the open he saw that the shadow was slowly leaning down to open the window and peer outside.

As quick as lighting, Adam ducked behind a bush and watched as the window slid open. Heart racing, he tried to remain still as a head appeared and looked around. A balding man with wire rimmed glasses leaned over the window sill and looked up and down the street.

"Hello?" he called, "Is there someone out there?"

Adam's breathing stilled when the man's eyes came to rest on his bush. He let out his breath when he shrugged his shoulders, went back inside and closed the window. Adam relaxed and caressed his hand as he thought on what to do next. He had no family in the area and he couldn't go back for his sister would surely kill him like she promised. Hatred coursed through him as he remembered his mother's motionless form on the bed and his sisters bloody fingers, his mother's blood.

When the lights went out Adam cautiously crept out from his hiding spot and continued on his way. He licked the blood off of his fingers, but his stomach quickly churned and he expelled its contents. His face turned deathly pale after this and he quickly wished he had gone to the man. Cold sweat formed on his forehead and above his lips and his hair clung to his face. His legs shook with tiredness and his fingers trembled from a possible infection.

As he walked he noticed that he had reached the edge of his town and dark trees loomed in front of him. To his left, however, the blue lights of the small gas station glowed in the evil night. With hesitation in his feet Adam turned from the road and made his way down to the convenient store. He stopped when he reached the very edge of the lights and looked at the gas station; inside a man with curly black hair and a short black beard stood at a counter wearing a blue shirt. In his hands he held a magazine and a bottle of Mountain Dew that he purchased using his employee discount.

With a deep breath, Adam stepped into the light and approached the glass doors. With a ring from a bronze colored bell, Adam pushed open the glass doors and went inside. The store smelled of cigarette smoke, yet, the clerk held no cigarette in his hand nor did he sell any. When the bell rang the clerk raised his head and smiled at Adam as he walked in the old store.

"Hello," he said in a friendly, accented voice, "What can I do for you, young man?" All Adam did was look at the man with anger and strolled to the back of the store. "A silent man, eh? I see, take your time and when you're ready I'll ring you up."

Adam ignored the man and went from aisle to aisle until he found what he was looking for; he grabbed two packages of gauge and a box of tan bandages. He then walked over to the fridge and picked up a bottle of water. He eyed a bag of Lays potato chips and snatched those as well. When he knew he had all that he needed he went up to the front counter and laid his contents on the table. He rummaged through his pockets and pulled out exactly three dollars and fifty-eight cents.

"What's all this for?" the clerk asked.

"How much?" was all Adam said.

"Well, whatever it's for that's not going to be enough, buddy." the man chuckled.

Adam frantically searched his other pocket with his injured hand and placed thirty-four more cents on the counter. He quickly pulled his hand away, but the man saw the blood stained fingers.

"What did you do to your hand, son?" he asked concerned.

"Nothing." Adam replied and shielded his fingers with his other hand and pressed it against his chest.

"You can trust me, now show me your hand." the man said gently. Adam reluctantly showed the man his hand and flinched when he picked it up. The man looked at his hand then at Adam and then back at his hand. "Come with me." he said as he let go of Adam's hand.

He walked out from behind the counter and towards the side of the store. Adam saw that he was headed towards a room that read restroom and followed him. When they got inside the man picked Adam up and placed him on the counter that contained the sink. He pulled out a cloth that was tucked in his pocket, poured water and soap on it and then began to dab at Adam's wounds. Adam flinched and quickly pulled his hand away from the clerk.

"Son, your fingers are going to get infected if you don't let me see them. Now, hold still, I'm almost done." the clerk said sternly.

As the man cleaned Adam's wounds and wrapped them in gauge he asked, "What's your name?"

"Kean." he replied without looking up from his work.

Adam laughed and asked, "What kind of name is that?"

"Okay," Kean huffed and placed his hands on his hips, "What's your name?"

"Adam." he simply replied.

"Adam, now that's a good, strong name." Kean smiled. "Come along Master Adam, let's see what we can do about your purchase."

Adam followed Kean back out into the store and back at the cash register. Kean pulled ten dollars out of his pocket and added it to Adam's money. He bagged the goods and when Adam had made it to the door he asked, "Say, where is your family."

"Gone," was all Adam said and then walked back into the starless night.

Kean watched Adam go and when he could no longer see the young boy he picked up a phone a dialed three numbers. The phone rung three times before someone picked up.

"9-1-1 what is your emergency?" a woman's voice asked.

"Hi, I'm here to report a missing child." he replied as he stared into the black night.

"Is this your child?" she asked.

"No, I work at the convenient store at the edge of town and a boy walked in and bought a few things from me. I asked him where his family was and he said gone."

"Did you ask him his name?"

"I did and his name is Adam, he didn't tell me a last name."

"What did Adam look like?"

"He had black hair, dark brown eyes, he looked to be around ten years old. His fingers," Kean trailed off as he remembered the boy's bloody fingers.

"Hello?" the woman asked when he didn't say anything.

"His fingers, four of them were split open and showed signs of a small infection." Kean sighed.

"Where did he go?"

"He left, I don't know where he was going."

"Okay, thank you sir, I'll file his name. Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

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Kean turned on the small Tv that hung on a wall in the convenient store and flipped through the stations until he reached the news. He turned the volume up and listened to the weather report as three men smoking cigarettes walked in. They laughed loudly and stomped mud and the freshly mopped floors. Kean had to strain his ears to hear the television when the news broadcast came on.

"A woman was found dead this morning in her home. The cause of death is still undetermined, but there is bruising on her neck and several knife wounds were found on her body. Neighbors say that she had two children who, are now, missing. Police found a knife at the crime scene with her daughter's finger prints on it. They aren't sure if this is the murder weapon or if the daughter killed her. As far as I have been told, no traces of the son or the daughter have been found. This is Channel Seven News."

Kean stared blankly at the screen when the news broadcast was over and they were starting another story about a fundraiser. He knew that, that boy was the missing son from the murdered woman, it wasn't just a coincident. He silently cursed himself for not calling the police when he was there for he wouldn't be missing anymore.

'Maybe he doesn't want to be found.' Kean thought. He didn't know, he shook his head and started to clean his work space, 'This will all blow over in a week, I don't have to worry about it.' Even as he thought these things something was nagging him at the back of his mind. He knew that this would turn into something big, he just didn't wan to believe it. 'You've already done what you could.' If only he could have done more.

"You can run, but soon you run out of places to run to." -Nalini Singh

----------Hey guys! I hope I didn't bore/gross you out with this chapter. I promise it will pick up soon, I just have to do the history behind the Puzzler. *Keep Calm and Carry a Jar of Dirt*~God Bless----------