Foresight

Chapter 1

"Oh Shit!" Mike cried. He had rolled over in his bed, peacefully taking in the Saturday sunlight beaming through his window that when he set eyes on his alarm clock – he noticed the time was ten forty a.m.

And he had to meet Connor at eleven a.m.

He stumbled out of bed, quickly pulled the outfit he'd hung up the night before, from the outside of his wardrobe door, and flung it on himself. He got a chance to study himself in the mirror on the door of his wardrobe. He was about five feet tall, he had pale skin, blue eyes and light brown hair. He also had quite a square jawline and a thick neck – something he'd inherited from all men in his father's side. He quickly combed his hair into a half-decent quiff before grabbing his satchel and dashing out of his room.

On the landing, he almost paused as he went past his brother's room. He pushed any buried thoughts aside and bounded down the two flights of stairs. He was crossing the foyer, when his dad stopped him. His dad was in his mid-forties and, much like Mike, he too had a thick neck and square jaw, but he was a foot and half taller than him and had dark brown hair and green eyes.

"Dad, c'mon I gotta go!" Mike pleaded. His dad just smiled, slightly, and raised his eyebrows.

"Well good morning to you too Michael!" he sighed "Have you got your cell phone?" he asked.

"Yes," Mike replied trying to go forward but his dad flinched, telling him that he wasn't quite done.

"And your burner?" His dad asked.

"Yes dad!" Mike replied impatiently. "I have my cell, my burner, my keys and my taser!".

"Okay!" His dad replied, looking somewhat taken aback, "you know why I ask these things – I don't want the same thing happening to you as what happened to Jack,".

Mike looked away, guiltily. His brother had gone missing twelve years ago. His dad and the rest of the NYPD had never found him – the incident had caused his mother to become so obsessed with finding Jack, that she didn't notice that she had lung cancer until she was rushed to the hospital.

She'd died a few months later.

"I know Dad – I have everything and I'll be back at four thirty, I promise," Michael finally said, somewhat guiltily. His Dad smiled at him.

"You're running late aren't you?" his dad asked rhetorically. Mike nodded. His dad reached over to the coat hanger, where he kept all his keys, and unlatched the car keys. Mike looked at his dad gratefully. "C'mon then," his dad said, sweeping them both out the front door to the garage.