Summary: Julianne is still trying to get over a tragic event in her past, when she's thrown into the midst of the brand new team called The Breakout Kings. Can she learn to trust anyone again? Julianne/Lloyd

And Then There Were None...

Chapter 1

Her footsteps were loud as they pounded against the black pavement. She could feel the stones and rocks embedding themselves into the souls of her feet, but she didn't care, she had to keep running. She didn't bother looking back, that would only slow her down, she just continued to run.

Suddenly a gunshot came from behind her, and it stunned her for a second. Startled, she turned back to see him chasing her, gun in hand. She turned back and stumbled, veering off of the road and headed into the forrest. She needed some cover.

Dashing through the brush and branches, she bolted through the trees, heading in no particular direction, she just had to get away. She was starting to pant harder from running for so long, and she could feel her pace slowing, but she pushed on.

She could see a small light up ahead, and she focused on that, hoping in any way that she could get there.

She heard another gunshot sound, and this time she didn't look back. She could see the treeline up ahead, and then she dreaded what lay beyond: a long, wide open field she had to run through to get to the light. Nothing to block the way of a speeding bullet. She shook the thought from her head. Don't think like that, just make it to the light.

As she neared the treeline, she noticed the light was coming from the front porch of a small, wooden house. Yes! A house! She prayed that someone would be at home.

Rushing to the treeline, she said one last prayer and darted out into the opening, she heard another gun shot, and this time it grazed her left leg. She felt the blood run down her leg, but no pain. All the adrenaline was keeping the pain at bay, and she thanked god for that.

She saw another light go one inside and she almost cried. They had heard the gunshot and were coming to the door.

She made it to the house, rushing up the three steps, she flung open the screen door and started pounding on the piece of wood blocking herself from safety.

She looked back and saw him racing toward her. He was still a bit away, but he was coming, and coming fast.

She kept pounding on the door, screaming her lungs out. "Help me! Let me in! He's coming! He's coming!"

Suddenly the door jerked open, and she didn't hesitate before darting inside. She fell on to the floor and couldn't help the tears that flowed down her face. "Close the door, he's out there!"

The man stood and looked out the door. She noticed he had a shot gun by his side, ready to aim if needed.

The man turned toward her, and his face immediately softened. He closed the door and locked it.

"I don't see anyone out there," he said and she looked up, shocked.

"He was there, chasing me, I swear it!" she stated harshly, and he nodded his head.

"Okay, okay. Let me help you up," he said, and he grabbed her arm and lifted her up and helped her to the couch. "Let me get you a blanket and some clothes."

"Can I use your bathroom?" she asked, quietly.

"Sure, it's the second door on the right down the hall," he said, as he walked into the kitchen.

Slowly, she got up from the couch and headed into the bathroom. She turned to the sink to wash her hands and that's when she caught her reflection in the mirror.

God, she looked hideous! Her hair was everywhere, filled with dried blood, leaves, and sticks. Her eyes were black, sunken in from malnutrition and long nights of crying. Her face was pale from lack of sunlight. Her shirt was torn in several places, exposing some of her skin. It had blood in several places, probably from where the branches had scraped her. She had on baggy shorts that were ripped at the bottom. She looked down at the wound on her leg, thankful that it wasn't as bad as it probably should have been. The graze was shallow, and it had only bled a little. The dried blood was in a line down her leg, and she took at piece of toilet paper and wiped it off. She wanted so bad to have a shower, but she knew she shouldn't. They needed the DNA, the clues, to help catch the man that had hurt her for so long.

She walked out of the bathroom to see the man sitting in the living room. He had a couple cups of tea on the table, and he gave her a calming smile. She walked closer, and picked up the blanket that he had left her on the couch, and wrapped it around herself.

"I've called 911, they are on the way," the man said, and she nodded her head.

Taking a seat, she looked down, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. She didn't know this person, she didn't know if they were good or bad.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" he asked, and she didn't say anything, just continued to look down. "I'm a cop, I can help."

She looked up and that's when she noticed the badge and gun sitting by the door. That helped calm her nerves a little. "Not right now," she answered honestly, and he nodded his head.

"Okay, well, how about your name? Mine is Ray Zancanelli," he said.

She looked up at him, and gave him a small smile. "Julianne."