The Man in White

By Carter Burgess

Sweat trickled down Connor’s face, splashing into his eyes, and cascading down his blue shirt. He turned the block, and sprinted for the grocery store. Connor whipped his head back at a hundred miles an hour, his fierce hazel eyes scanning for it.

Suddenly, out of the blue, something grabbed his mouth, muffling him like a pillow. It pulled him back, as a bag that was as dark as black paint, and quite abrasive was thrown over his head. Connor was hoisted into a truck, and the engine hiccuped into gear, and bumped down the road. Now he was sure of it, the man in the white suit had captured him.

“Well, well, well. What do I have here?” The voice was smooth and perfect – too perfect, something was wrong.

“Look,” Connor said, “I don’t know your name, I don’t know who you are, and I don’t know why you want me. Let me go and you won’t get hurt.” He wasn’t kidding this time. Connor had taken karate for ten years, and he was a third degree black belt, and he had also taken Jujitsu for about four years. Connor was only sixteen, but he was sure he would have no trouble fighting the man in the white suit. The man said nothing, but just chuckled. After a good half an hour or so, the truck jumped to a halt, sending Connor smashing into the seat in front of him. A stream of red blood flowed from his noise, and his head throbbed. A whirlwind of curses streamed from Connor’s mouth, in a low mumble. Then, a man shoved him carelessly out of the truck and pair of handcuffs were fastened to his hands. A twenty-pound weight was attached, making Connor slump. The engine roared, and the truck left.