Agent with a History Read Online Free Page B

overly religious but I knew there
was a God. It had been a long time since I had gone to church or
even prayed. Maybe I should do that this weekend, was my last
thought.
     
    I jerked upright in the bed, my scream still
lingering in my ears. My hand went to my mouth and I started to
sob.
    I couldn’t take it anymore! Oh God please
help me!
    I crashed back against my pillows and I cried
for a while, but sleep wouldn’t come, no matter how much I needed
it. I threw back the covers and got up. I looked at the alarm clock
in disgust, 2:00am. I’d only been asleep for less than two
hours.
    My eyes burned and I stumbled my way to the
bathroom. I didn’t turn on the light, as I turned on the faucet and
splashed cold water on my face repeatedly. I stood there for a
moment, water dripping off my face onto the countertop. I was so
tired of this!
    I headed back to the bed dreading every step,
but I had to get some sleep even at the risk of another nightmare.
I was about to slip back under the covers, when the hairs on the
back of my neck stood up.
    I wasn’t alone!
    It was a terrible realization to have and I
reacted quickly out of fear, my hands dove under my pillow to grasp
a small 9mm I kept there and I swung around with it held high. My
aim centered on the shadowy outline of a person sitting in one of
my small kitchenette chairs.
    The filtered city light from outside outlined
the individual and I made it out to be a man wearing a dark suit.
Something chilled within me as I guessed as to whom it could be,
the man from the sketch!
    I was breathing hard, as if I had just been
in a race, and I felt the tight grip I had on the gun waver
slightly.
    ‘Get a hold of yourself Lisa!’ My brain
screamed inside at me, but I couldn’t help it.
    Fear gripped me hard as I stared down the
barrel of the pistol at the man sitting in my kitchen chair. “How
long have you been sitting there?” I asked, as my mind seized in
consideration of everything that he could have done to me and
perhaps still could. My grip tightened on the gun yet further at
the possibility of that last thought.
    He spoke, “I’m sorry I didn’t wake you from
the nightmare you were having, but I figured that living alone and
being woken up by a stranger would be a nightmare all of its
own.”
    “Who are you and what are you doing in my
apartment?” Before he could answer I added, “Are you here to kill
me?”
    There was a short moment of silence. “If I
was here to kill you, you would already be dead. As to who I am,
you may call me Flint. As to why I’m here, it would be best put
that I’ve come to warn you.”
    He stood up and my grip tightened on the
trigger.
    “That gun isn’t loaded.” He said softly.
    He took a step toward me and I pulled the
trigger.
    Click! Click! Click!
    He’d unloaded my gun and slipped it back
under my pillow while I slept!
    A little cry of despair escaped me. I turned
and felt under my side of the mattress for the sawed off shotgun I
kept there.
    It was gone!
    I turned to the night table for my phone but
it was gone too! I glanced at the slowly approaching man and saw
him hold up my phone before he slipped it back into a coat pocket.
There was nothing else to do, I had to take him out if I was to
survive.
    I threw the gun at him and then launched
myself toward him. Sickenly I saw him snatch the gun out of the air
and idly toss it to the side. I launched at him feet first in a
double legged kick, but he caught my feet and stole my
momentum.
    My head and upper back should’ve crashed into
the floor hard, with my feet being held captive, but I felt him
grab my shoulder and pull my torso upwards, as he let my feet drop
and then he spun me around moments before we both crashed into the
floor, but he didn’t let his weight fall on me like he could
have.
    Moments before impact with the floor I felt
his hand slide in front of my face, which helped absorb the force
of the connection of my head with the floor.
    As I gathered in a quick