The sun was just rising as Tom stepped out of his car. The morning air filled his lungs. Suddenly all of his senses came to life, he wasn’t alone, he could sense someone, he could f. Some part of him wanted to get right back in and drive away but the adventurous, dangerous side of him was holding him to the spot. Then all of a sudden a man stepped out from behind the dumpster. No words were spoken; they just stood there looking at each other; a cold breeze ruffled their hair. Suddenly the man pulled something out from inside his pocket. Fred could not see what it was, but he had a strange feeling that the outcome would not be good.
The stranger spoke, “Are you Tom McGuire?”
Shakily, Tom replied, “Yes, why do you want to know?”
“Oh” the stranger said, a thin smile forming on his face, “I just want to be sure that I kill the right man.”
A chill ran through Tom’s spine, as he turned around and ran. There were three loud noises as the stranger fired his gun, but none of the shots found their target. As Tom dashed away, hoping that the stranger was not pursuing him, thoughts raced through his head. Who was that man? Why was he trying to kill him?