“Pa, I’m home. Brought back some of your packages from the post office.” Mark looked down at the package and noticed an envelope taped to the side of the box. It had the government seal on it. Except it was a hot press stamp, so I knew that it was official. The weird thing about this particular stamp was that the stamp was still hot, so whoever sent it wanted it here as soon as possible.
“It looks important..” Mark yelled hoping that his father was upstairs. “Pa?” He looked around the house for his father. Then he stopped thinking that he would hear his dad typing in the basement office. Silence. No one was in the house with him. Or so he thought. He went to the kitchen, and there he was. Lying on the floor. Dead.
There was a bullet hole in his chest and a hole in the skylight glass. “What happened?” He asked himself. His dad was lying in an awkward position. Mark crouched down to hear a heartbeat. There was none. “NOOOOOOOOOO!!” Today was a good day for Mark, until now. He started to cry, tears dripping down his face getting colder as the wind catches its trail. Mark laid down next to his father and cried. All he could do was cry. Mark’s mom died when he was young. HE couldn’t even remember it, or his mom. Now he had no parents, no family and no one at all. Mark was alone…
After 3 hours of sobbing his eyes till there were no more tears left, he went upstairs where he could climb out of the master bedroom window and onto the garage roof so that he could examine the broken glass. It was as if it had happened in an action movie of some sort. While Mark was on the roof he saw something gleaming in the backyard. He flipped off the shortest part of the roof (what he had learned in gymnastics) and ran over to the bushes behind his house. As he got closer to the bushes he noticed that the shining object was metal. Then he automatically knew what it would be. Then he put his arms in the bushes and opened them. Then suddenly he remembered his dad, and how he used to hug him that way. HIS DAD HAD BEEN SHOT… ON PURPOSE. The object was in fact a gun. “It must be a silencer” Mark had whispered to himself. He had a lot of neighbors and they were close to his dad, but no one was aware.
He went back inside. He went straight to the kitchen so that he could open the government box. He opened the front door and rushed to the package. Mark opened the envelope and it read:
We are happy to inform you that your son Mark has been selected to be in your will as your successor after you step down. We are ending your term in 2 years time. And if the next decision that you state jeopardizes the council then you will be forced to give up your position as the president. In the package that we have sent you, you will find yourself a key that will lead you straight to the previous presidents’ location of a special item that will give you special abilities and you can finials retire.is only known to the past council presidents. This is the code of the location, crack it and then you will discover where in the world it is located.
Rey be saem de camer sunerf for yoates.
From, The Council
After reading that letter Mark knew that the C in POTSC stands for council and the P stands or president. He knew that POTUS means: President of the United States. So POTSC means President of the ———– council.
The S could be anything from scare to sacrifice. What would Mark do? He had to contact someone, but who?
Then he grabbed the phone and dialed 3 numbers.
9-1-1. But what would he say. Someone picked up: “Hello, this the police department please state your emergency.” It appeared to be a man much older that he would have expected. He growled.
“Hi, My name is Mark Katrim” he stopped, his voice quivered. He continued “and when I was coming back from some errands I had to run, I saw my dad lying on the floor dead. There is a skylight at the top of our roof of the garage, it was broken He was shot.”
“Where do you live?” Buzzed the telephone operator
“I live on 13 kamero street. That’s k-a-m-…”
“ Ya, I can spell, kid. We will be on our way.”
There was nothing that Mark could do until the police arrived. Then Mark glared at the package sent by the ———— council. He got up out of his seat and walked over to it, as if he was forced. He grabbed a knife from the drawer. He held the box in place, and then sliced through the the tape closing the box. He placed down the knife and opened the package. He was expecting some sort of key, but instead, to his surprise, another package. He repeated the same steps as opening the first on. Then inside the second package there was a small wooden box. Mark guessed around the size of half a piece of paper. It was locked. Mark wondered how he would open it. He went back to the kitchen drawer and pulled out a spatula. He hammered the box with his fists of steel, but the lock would not open. Mark got frustrated and threw it on the ground. He was lucky enough that it landed on its top, so that the bottom was facing up. There was a painting of a dragon on the back, except that the eye seemed to be popping out. He bent down to feel it. It was metal, so he pushed down on the eye thinking that something would happen and it did. Once he clicked the eye the lock popped open. Not only that but the box was transforming. Like a child was turning a shirt inside out.
The police were at the door knocking on the hard wood of the door until Mark opened it. He quickly hid the box in one of the cupboards in the kitchen. Then he quickly rushed to the door I have nothing it happened, and then opened The front door. “Hey Mark, we came as soon as we heard what had happened.” Said one of the police officers
“How do you know my name” Mark replied
“That’s a long story. Lead me to the kitchen” he commanded.
As they walk through the kitchen Mark’s heart was thumping so loud he could hear it from outside his chest. They went back to the kitchen and there his dad was lying dead on the floor. They stared at the dead body on the floor, one of the police officers even averted his eyes. Even the site of the dead body had scared us all. One of the investigators had come closer to the body and examined a bullet hole in the chest. He started to wonder who had done this. Then another investigator asked Mark to lead him outside to where he found the gun. As they were walking to the small bush in the backyard the investigators knew right away what the object was. The investigators wanted to keep the item where was in case later that they find out something else had happened. They warned everyone in my neighborhood that there was one person, a killer, roaming around the streets because this was the second killing in three days. They wondered if this would become a streak for the neighborhood. Then they brought him to Logan airport.
The drive was a exhausting. Mark kept on asking them why we were going to the airport, but they kept a straight face; It must be a secret. Then when they got there they boarded a plane, on the route to the capital. Mark started noticing things that were very strange. There was a man in black sunglasses and an under armour t-shirt. Looking left and right suspiciously, he made his way to the restroom. The plane shook, and the alarm went off. Everyone was to put on their seatbelt and remain calm. Then the man came out of the bathroom and walked to his seat. Except he stopped 5 rows away from Marks seat and just stared at him. The flight attendants got up and asked him to go back to his seat and cause no more trouble. He refused. One woman grabbed him and kicked him in the back, but he didn’t even budge. He turned around and looked at the woman. He said something in German, and swung his fist in the flight attendant’s thigh. Hurt, the woman fell down on one knee. The man had then knuckled the woman in the temple of her head, and just like that she was knocked out. The other flight attendants ran away to the other end of the airplane.
After that commotion, the German grabbed a gun out of his left jacket pocket and aimed it directly towards the window knowing that if he shot all of the oxygen would escape the plane as fast as a teenager out of school. (And that was pretty fast) Luckily, another man got up out of his seat. He gave a kick to the man’s back hand, the gun fell, a slid down the aisle. The German turned around angry and punched the guy in the gut. He fell. Three other men, dressed like three bros going on vacation, got out of their seats. They each took out their own gun. They were standing in the aisle across from the German. The stood in a position with their legs a shoulder width apart, and fired. The man fell onto a seat with a baby boy in it, and a flashing object slipped out of his pocket. The little baby had clicked the button on the object, then all of a sudden a deafening sound burst out of the object. Everyone standing dropped and everyone sitting fell asleep; including Mark.
Mark had woken up inside a taxi, wondering where they were going. He then saw a sign in the streets that read: Enjoy your stay in Dc. They were in fact leaving the airport. Mark asked the taxi driver where they were going. He answered quite softly, and Mark couldn’t understand. So he waited. He was in the car for three more hours. Then someone appeared in the street, holding a circular like device. He threw it like a frisbee and it glided on the road. Except it wasn’t even on the street, it was hovering. When it got to the car that Mark was on, it stuck to the bottom of the taxi as if it was a magnet. Three seconds later, there was an explosion. The man in the street stepped to the side and the car landed on its back and flipped twice. He took Mark out of the taxi and threw him on the street. Fortunately, there were about 12 government cars following the taxi that Mark was in. They all got out, each with a gun. One of them yelled “Youvan Hemzenschimit, put you hands behind above your head and kneel down.” He hadn’t responded. “Sir..” Youvan said three minutes later. “You don’t understand why I need Mark Katrim” he spoke in a very deep Russian accent.
“He is the one who killed his own father. I witnessed it happen 3 nights ago in Boston, an apartment downtown. He shall be punished and I would be happy to be the one did take him out.” No one could believe what they were hearing. Why and how would Mark kill his own father. They all turned to Mark, with their jaws dropped. And then Youvan smashed a smoke bomb to the floor and vanished. How would Mark lift the weight off his shoulders.
He was already in the city of the Supreme Court. Would he even be able to explain this.
Mark ran away, but everyone had chased after him. He had to find a way to lose them. Then Mark entered a restaurant. Everyone else had followed him into the public restaurant. It was a special evening that night. Everyone that had entered had stopped in their own tracks and froze. The president had been there with his family. Mark ran to him. Two guards had blocked Marks way to the president. The president had taken his last bite of the night, put his hand up, and then let his four fingers down leaving only his pointer finger stay up. The two guards had stepped to the side letting Mark past. The president had asked him to sit with him. He swallowed and spoke
“Why are they chasing you, my good lad.”
Mark interrupted “they have accused me of killing my own father, but I can assure you I didn’t”
“Men, how can you have accused this boy of killing his own father.” Said the president
“We have a witness” said one of the men in suits. “He needs to be interrogated” he continued.
“I’m sorry…” The president began. “But I can’t let you do that. Guards!” The guards took their positions and we’re ready to fight. So were the agents in suits. A government smackdown just took place in a restaurant. They fought only for the safety of one boy. This was a good example,of how America is a safe country. Everyone fighting for credo and safety. The president had grabbed Mark’s arm and they ran out of the restaurant.
“Wait, Mark, my family is still in their. I need to go and get them”
“I’m coming with you. I can help.”
They went in.
There were people kicking each other’s faces, people throwing punches in people’s guts, and one man just stood in the middle. No one even payed attention to him. The president ran to his family and took them out. The man in the middle took out a gun, pointed it up and fired. The place shook. The battle had stopped. Everyone looked at the man.
“Now that i’ve got your attention, may I direct you to the the ceiling. I have shot one of the main supports and the place will come down in about two minutes. good luck getting out. And remember there is always a right way.” The German left. And there was a remaining puff of smoke. The restaurant shook again, and by then there was only one minute left. No one cared about who the man was. They just cared about getting out and not dying.
The had to work together and unify and find a way out. All the exits were crushed, and the only way out was down. They had to make an escape through the sewers. Then one of the ceiling beams fell, and Mark ran directly underneath the beam and separated his feet. He then put up his hands to catch the beam. And he did. The person underneath the beam quickly scurried from underneath the beam and thanked Mark. Afterward, they all went to the kitchen. They escaped through one of the underground tunnels and were barely able to fit. The sewer smelt disgusting. Some passed out and the adults carried them almost the whole way. They heard a loud boom and started to run. After 2 minutes later they heard an explosion from a far. They were all far enough so that no one got hurt. One man walked up to Mark and said “thanks again for saving my life back there. You a real hero and so selfless. I am glad that you were here because if you weren’t we’d all be dead. I’m thankful for you leadership.” He was in Fact the owner of the restaurant. He looked pretty casual for the owner. He wore a fisher’s vest, nike shoes, and a boston red sox baseball cap. The cap seemed to have a metal rim on the front. Mark notice it shining; It was the light of the sun. They were at the end of the tunnel and Mark had noticed that there was a manhole cover slightly above their heads. He climbed up the ladder to see if they were below a street.
“I’m going’ to see if we are under a street.”
He went up and pushed the cover to the streets and a car came racing by and his hand came clean off. Not everyone was safe. Blood came gushing out except it wasn’t red. Marks blood appeared to be some sort of violet-blossom color. “Ahhhh!!” The place shook from the sound of his roar. A couple minutes later before the ambulance showed up Marks blood trickled upon his white shirt and as soon as the purple fluid made contact with his shirt the blood changed color and form. The blood had become red and had bursted up in a gaseous heat cloud.
And then the ambulance came and lifted him into the car. They drove passed the library of congress, and into the gates of the white house. The driver of the ambulance stopped at the gate and asked in because they also had picked up the president from the sidewalk just outside the restaurant. The two guards let him in. But as he drove one of the guards noticed a rock fall from the bottom of the car. And then the rock split into two and released a shockwave of electricity that knocked out the two guards.
Mark had only one chaperone in the ambulance, and Mark knew that there were supposed to be at least 3 of them in the car with him. He noticed the chaperone holding a gun and two rounds of ammunition strapped to his chest. Mark then knew what they were doing. They weren’t sending him and the president to the white house er. They were going to infiltrate the white house. How could they possibly get passed the security. They had knocked out the president. The guy in the back had went closer to the driver and whispered “how will we get passed the metal detectors and the heat scanners.” And then the driver spoke “ don’t worry about it,” He spoke in a german accent. “Marks blood will make the scanners a normal color; it acts as a cooling agent. We will get passed. We control the president know. Insert the mind pellet in his ear.”
“As you command” he said and did as he was told. The pellet was green and small. He stuck it in the president’s ears and the took out a remote. I quickly closed my eyes and acted dead before he turned his head to check on me, after all he was my ambulance chaperone… who was about to get kicked out on the white house lawn holding a gun. He would surely be arrested. Mark had a plan.
He opened his eyes slowly, and the guard turned. As soon as he woke up the guard took the butt of his gun and smashed it down aiming for Mark’s head. Mark moved his head slightly to the side, dodging the hit. Luckily the butt of the gun was made of solid steel so it broke the restraints on his forehead. He picked up his head and undid and the other straps holding him down. Mark quickly grabbed the head of the gun pointed it up and the guard pulled the trigger. The bullet hit the driver right in the back of his head. But unfortunately the car was still moving. Mark kicked the guard out of the car and the back doors flew open. Then he grabbed the president and ran off to the hidden White House ER. As the guard that was in the car hit his head against the floor the White House guards had rushed over and neutralized him.
The car crashed into the White House fountain in the middle of the lawn. But that was a problem for the insurance. Right now Mark had to worry about bringing the president to safety. As he got closer a few of the lookout nurses and sprinted across half the lawn to help the president.
“Do you need help sir?” One of the nurses said
“No, I’m good just make sure that if the president doesn’t have a concussion. He hit his head pretty hard.” Mark said panting.
One of the nurses looked at Mark while the two nurses behind her took away the president. “We are thankful for your service and we would like for you to come in and let us examine your arm.”
“No. I need to make sure that those two criminals are kept in a remote location where no one will find them. Plus if i don’t want to understand it i am sure that you don’t want to understand it.” He left.
The nurses mysteriously followed Mark. What he didn’t know is that they a part of the CIA and they were undercover. They were real nurses but they could also do martial arts. Clearly they weren’t train professionally they left the president in the er with only two other men to help him. The men that were going into custody escaped. This meant that no one was safe. Mark had to do something. He saw a nearby van. Open. Men in the back unloading some cargo. Mark rushed into the driver’s seat and stepped on the acceleration full speed. The men fell flat on their faces.
“C’mon Mark, step on it” he thought to himself
They were getting away so he had to find a back road that lead to where they were going, this would then cut them off. But what would he do he is just a little kid whose arm got cut off. Mark then remembered his arm. He found a towel in the truck. He tied it to his arm and then go close to the intersection, he cut them off. Or alt east he tried. They just kept on accelerating, and the two cars collided. Mark flew out the front windshield. He landed on the side of the street, but he wasn’t done. The momentum of his fall flung him and into an alley. HIs arm was struck by a piece of metal. The silver rod covered in rust stroked threw his arm upwards. It was like the metal continued his arm. The people got away. Mark trying to catch up to them by foot. But he couldn’t. He has been impaled, he needed a hospital. He fainted from blood loss.
Mark woke up the next morning in the hospital. It was no ordinary hospital. The hospital was run by his dad. He wondered who ran it now. a man in the corner of the room was standing against the wall.
“Don’t freak out little Marker.” Said the man. Little Marker is what his dad used to call him when he was a baby. The man left before Mark could get a good look at him. He was going to get up but he was strapped onto a table. A different man walked into the room, and told him to take it easy. Mark then realized a liquid was dripping down his back. The thought of his dad being alive got him sweating like crazy. Maybe he was hallucinating. But why. People usually hallucinate either because they are height or are traumatically affected by an event in their life. The man left the room and closed the door with force. Mark’s sweat slipped his arm right out of the straps. He got out and walked into the hallway. His legs started to shake. HIs blood wasn’t fully restored. HE fell in front of an office. On the door was labeled: DR.KATRIM. There was a man inside of the office. He could believe his eyes. HE somehow got the strength to stand up. He turned the doorknob to see a man Standing in front of him. Looking at each other eye to eye. It was his Father.
“What?” Mark said as if he was betrayed somehow.
“Mark, you should really get back to the operating room.” He said taking his arm
Mark quickly shook his dad’s hand off of his arm.
“I thought that you were dead.” He paused. “ The police came and everything, were they in on it?” Before he could answer all Mark could do was run. Disappointed he kicked the doors open and it lead him outside. HE ran to the nearby bush and hid in it. The security guards came to look for him. They spent an hour searching for him. They eventually gave up. HE laid there for a night. He woke up but didn’t want to move. All he could do is think that his dad never died, and he had to go through believing that he is dead.
It was now about noon. He didn’t know what to do or where to go now. Mark then remembered the letter in his pocket. He then tried to crack the code. Then he realized that he had a friend named Niema that loved to crack codes. He probably could crack it. Mark poked his head out the bush to make sure that no one was there. Then to his surprise he found a guard standing 3 feet in front of him. HE then quickly went back in the bush. HE went through the back of the bush and just started running to the bus station. The guard started running towards him. He saw that the bus was leaving. Mark ran track so he knew how to get the bus at the right time. Eventually he was inches away from the bus. He knew not to jump, because the acceleration of the bus would beat his trajectory. SO he ran quicker and got a hold on the handle on the back of the bus. Mark then used his strength to swing himself forward and grip on the bus. The guard then stopped running; he knew that he could catch the bus, and by the time he got back to the hospital he could follow it with a car. The bus was gone. Mark’s eyes were watering. The wind skimmed his face the whole way to 39 Benson Avenue: Niema’s house. HE knocked on the door, Niema opened the door, “hey, Mark…” she said
“I need you to crack a code.” He ranted
“Okay, what is it?” She questioned
Mark replied with “Rey be saem de camer sunerf for yoates.”
“Sorry?” She said questioning what i just said.
“Can I come in” Mark asked
Mark barged in without Niema’s. Permission but he knew that it was okay. He went to her father’s office and grabbed a sheet of paper. He wrote what exactly was written on the letter. Niema brought it to her room where a computer was. She plugged the paper into something at the top of the monitor. The computer scanned t it and it popped up on the screen, glowing a bright white that flashed into Mark’s eyes. HE flinched and stepped back.
“Sorry, about that. It is part of the process.” Niema assured him “It will take a while you could stay the night. Does your dad mind?” Mark froze.
Mark picked up the letter and spoke, “This letter was sent to me father a day before he was killed.”
“Oh..” she said in dismay.
Niema left the room and got a blanket and pillow for Mark. Mark took them from her hands, and laid them down on the floor. She went to bed feeling guilty that she brought up his deceased father. Mark could sleep. All he thought about that night was why he had lied to his friend. He guessed that it made his father less alive inside. It caused his to think about it more, but as long as his friends weren’t thinking about it they won’t know how he truly feels. Mark then closed his eyes and slept peacefully wanting to forget his father.
After he slept the computer beeped and printed out a sheet of paper with the code decrypted. Then, a hand came through the open window. It took the paper, but as it was reaching for the paper something fell off its wrist.
The next morning they woke up, Niema did her bed and went to the restroom to wash up for the day. Mark looked at the computer, seeing the deciphered code on the screen.
The sun pierced through the open window. The light guided Mark’s eyes to a shining object on the ground. It was a watch.
“Niema, is this your watch?” He asked
Niema walked in the room “No, is it yours?”
Mark flipped the watch to see the back, and to his surprise the initials DK. Those were the initials of his father.
“Has my dad ever been to this house?” Mark questioned
“I don’t think so. Why?”
“This is his watch.” He said
“What is that supposed to mean. He hasn’t been here since last year. Anyway what did the code…” She paused “Did you take the paper that printed out.?”
“No. Was it supposed to print?”
“It always prints.” said Niema
She walked over to the open window. She then ran downstairs.
She cam but up with an IPad, on it was displayed a security footage of last night outside their house. It was of a man who was running with a sheet of paper.
“What ever was on that paper must have been really important.” Niema said gently
Mark walked over to the computer and saw the code. It stated: When the sun strikes the birthplace of liberty, the darkness is where you will find it.”
“What is it? And how can there be darkness in light?” Mark worried
“Maybe it means it is a shadow. And we learned in history class that the birthplace of liberty is Boston. That’s only…” Niema went to her computer and opened google maps. “It’s 169.7 miles from Albany to Boston. Are you actually going to make the trip?” She asked in disbelief that he would go.
“There is no where else to go. My house is empty, no soul. If i go I will get whatever there is and i will give it to my father…” He stopped
“I thought that your father was dead.” Niema said
“To be honest, he faked his death, that bastard.”
“Mark!” Niema stopped him “He is still your father. I’m sure that he has a solid reason to leave he past life and live a new one.”
“You don’t understand.” Mark began, “You take this so lightly because you’re glad it isn’t yours, so don’t tell me how to act.” He stormed off. Niema heard the front door open and close quickly. She rushed to her open window. “Mark! Where are you going?”
He paused in his tracks, took a deep breath and spoke, “New York.”
He continued, then he felt a heavy object hit his foot lightly. It was his father’s watch. He picked it up without saying a word. He then made his way back to his house. He opened the door and went upstairs. Mark opened the safe in his father’s closet and grabbed the money. His subconscious was telling him that he was robbing his own house. But he was saying, YOLO. HE got his things together and left the house and walked to the train station. It was about 5 miles from his house. He got to the station at about sunset. A train came and he hopped on. The train only brought him to Amherst Massachusetts. He walked down the road to the UMASS Amherst University. He knew that some people take taxis to boston, but that night for some reason there were no taxis. He then saw a person loading his daughters things into a car.
“Excuse me.” Mark said
“May i ask where you are going?” Mark asked as politely as he could.
“We are a family from Wellesley.” The man said In an accent. Something Arabic was said to the daughter.
“I know this is totally weird requesting this, but is that anywhere near Boston. And if so can i ride with you guys?”
“Sure, may I ask what you name is?”
Mark strategized he told them his name was Ben Solek. He knew that if he told them his real name and then got in trouble or was reported on, he would be safe for the first couple of days.
Mark rode in the car.
Two and a half hours later they were at a bus stop.
“We have reach our destination.” The man said.
“Thanks for the ride” Mark got out of the car and then he turned back to the man. “I didn’t catch your name…”
“Mohammad, but you can call me Mo.”
“Thanks Mo” Mark said and left the car.
Mark needed to find a place where there were a lot of people. He knew that they could direct him to the State building. Mark kept on walking on a highway with his left hand in the air, waiting for a car to stop and tell him how he could get there. His phone wasn’t much help because it was a flip phone.
A car stopped next to Mark. A deep voice boomed out of the car. “Do you need help sir.”
“Yes I would like to get to the State building; Do you know how to get there?” Mark asked.
“Hop in, i am on the to a state hearing.” He said
“Thanks” Mark replied
“My name is Jason”
“I am Mark.”
“May i ask why you are going to the State Building?” Jason reMarked
“I don’t know, really. I don’t know what i am looking for. My dad… Died, and there is something there for him. I need to know what it is.”
“My condolences.” He said as he looked to the floor.
“We are here, hope you find what you are looking for” Jason said.
Mark left and reviewed what the decoded message said, then he saw a man wearing black on the top of the golden dome. A piece of paper dropped from him and conveniently landed right in front of Mark’s feet. It was the message.
But he knew that he was wrong. While on his trip he was thinking about what the message said. “When the sun strikes…” That meant that the thing we would be looking for would be at the end to the pole’s shadow. MAkr once saw this in a movie once. He started running towards the shadow of the pole. There he found a square spray painted on the grass. The man came freedom behind his and pushed him to the side. He pulled out a knife to cut the grass. The knife was stuck in the ground and he swiftly cut the square. Inside was a box, he picked it up. He drop kicked him in the gut and the man fell, dropping the box. When it was dropped it cracked against the tree trunk.
Inside there was nothing.
Mark turned to the side to find his father staring down at him holding a key.
He tossed the key to Mark hand; He turned and started walking. Mark knew not to follow him.