It was 7:00 a.m. I was getting ready for school, but before leaving, I went to check on John.
He was still resting, half-awake.
"I'm heading to school," I told him quietly. "I'll be late today — I have my part-time job right after classes. If you feel like having a snack, there's some food left in the fridge."
He just nodded slightly, eyes half-open.
After making sure he was fine, I grabbed my bag and left.
---
When I entered the classroom, everyone was already talking about the shooting that happened Monday night.
The room buzzed with rumors — some said it was a gang war, others claimed it was a military operation.
I just kept my head down, trying not to draw attention.
As I placed my bag on my chair, Bull came crashing into me, knocking me off balance.
"Where the hell were you yesterday, you piece of—" he began shouting.
But before he could finish, the bell rang, and our teacher entered the room — saving me, at least for now.
---
As the day went on, Bull kept glaring at me like a wild animal.
There was no reason for it, but I could feel it — I was dead meat.
When the final bell rang, I packed my bag and got ready to run home fast.
But unlucky me… they were already waiting.
Bull and his whole gang stood outside, blocking the exit.
I tried to slip away, but they caught me instantly.
They didn't need a reason — they just wanted someone to blame.
Their football team had lost a game yesterday, and I was the easiest target.
For the next three to four hours, they bullied me nonstop — pushing, mocking, kicking.
By the time they finally let me go, I was bruised and exhausted.
---
I went straight to my part-time job at the shop, trying to forget what happened.
After work, I dragged myself home, my whole body aching.
But when I got inside… John was gone.
His uniform, gun, and gear — all gone.
I searched the whole place but couldn't find him anywhere.
Panic started to rise in my chest, but then I noticed something on the fridge door — a folded note with my name written on it:
"ALEX — from JOHN."
My hands trembled as I opened it.
Inside, it said:
> "Sorry, kid. I had to leave. My team might be worried about me, and if they get involved, things will get out of hand.
Come meet me at the Los Angeles Air Force Base in El Segundo… if you want to change your life."
— John Thunder.
I stood there for minutes, staring at the paper.
A part of me wanted to throw it away. Another part — the stronger one — whispered that maybe this was the only chance I'd ever get to escape my miserable life.
After hours of thinking that night, I made my choice.
I would go.
Saturday. Two days from now.
---
When Saturday came, I left home early and took the first bus toward El Segundo.
By the time I reached the Air Force Base, it was exactly 12:00 p.m.
As I approached the gate, two soldiers in uniform with rifles stepped forward and blocked my way.
"Stop right there," one of them barked. "Who the hell are you, and what's your business here?"
"I'm here to meet Captain John," I said nervously. "My name's Alex."
For a moment, they just stared at me — then burst out laughing.
"What's so funny?" I asked, confused.
One of them leaned closer and yelled, "What the hell does the Captain want from a weakling like you? You better tell us who you really are before we throw you out!"
He was still shouting when a female voice came from behind them — calm but commanding:
> "What the hell are you two yelling about?"
The moment they heard her voice, both soldiers froze.
Their laughter vanished instantly, replaced by a look of pure fear as they turned to face her.