Prologue

As I kneel down to wash my face in the cold creek, new voices touch my ears, echoing through the creek bed and my head, reverberating like a drum. It forms words around me.

"...gang are back at it again, and heading this way. Just a few more days time, and we can cut the act." The voice says, deep and whining. I dive into the bushes as I hear the footsteps nearing my small nook in the creek. My heartbeat thunders in my ears, my mouth dries up, and I quiver with the fear of being found. I slowly still myself, forcing common sense into my head, knowing that I am prepared this time to defend myself if needed.

"Wait, C.J., did you hear that crash? It came from over here." A lighter voice says, cautiously gravitating in the direction of my hiding spot. My eyes widen and my grip on the handle in my bag tightens. I pick up a rock, my movements slow as to not shake the bush, and toss it about ten meters left of me. It makes the familiar sound of an animal breaking a twig. The deeper voiced one laughs, his voice echoing in the Echo Creek.

"See, it was just a critter. Now, when the Kingsley Gang gets here, you know where to be. I need to be off to Madam Rosmerta's, or sh'll be docking my pay. Good day, J.P." The deep voice, C.J., says. His thundering footsteps echo away. The other man, J.P., waits for a few minutes before his lighter footsteps echo away in the opposite direction as C.J..

I wait in the bushes another five minutes before I come out, the mud on my face forgotten. I hear a tearing sound, and realize that my dress caught on the bush and ripped. I can deal with that later, as it is not as important as this. I FINALLY have the proof that the gang is coming. The weeks of preparation was indeed a good idea. My hand slowly leaves the knife in my bag. Then something hits me like rock slide.

Most people wouldn't believe that the Kingsley Gang is coming this way when I told them before. But no one, not even the girls and my best friend, whom I taught and trained to be warriors, would ever believe that there were traitors in the small, peaceful village of Echo Creek. A thought pops into my head, one I almost push right back out.

Only one person would ever believe this. The one person I would rather die than talk to. The one person who had the whole story all along. The bully Austin Meyer, my arch-nemesis.