<div class="floatleft">(http://www.youngmalecelebs.net/galleries/walker/Walker009.jpg)</div><hr/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><strong>  Name:</strong>       Jake Wheatly<br/>  <strong>Title:</strong>          Mid-Knight [not given yet]<br/>  <strong>Affiliation:</strong>  Resistance<br/>  <strong>Location:</strong>   Los Angeles, Art Museum at the corner of Wilshire Blvd and Fairfax Ave.<br/>  <strong>Tags:</strong>    Banshee, Wreck, Teletrix, Natasha<br/><br/></span></span><hr/><br/>His call didn't get a response as he kept moving. He hoped the screeching superhero was okay, but with the size of the crowd he was taking care of. Jake kept moving, he didn't know what he was running for, just running. It was now that he randomly thanked god he ran track in high school. What if he was the only person around for twenty miles? It reminded him of one time when he was in boy scouts. Chiefly the reason he actually stopped going to the boy scouts. He had a problem with bullies up till the end of middle school, many of them though ,were in the boy scouts. They gave him a map marked with where he would get fire wood for their camp. Jake ended up getting lost for days. He was Lost, alone, afraid...fear..That was the most afraid he had been in his life, at least until now.<br/><br/>When he was captured, he was there with his friends, all getting the serum. Most of them died gruesome deaths before his very eyes. He couldn't even think about his parents fate. He wanted to become successful after going to school, and get a home and other things so his parents could live decently for once, rather than always wondering where the next meal would come from. He never even got to say good bye..not even a proper funeral....no..there was still hope..faint, but still.<br/><br/>He kept going until he came to the corner of Wilshire and Fairfax. He had to stop, catch his breath, crouching down a bit as he did. His stomach had a rumble that he could swear echoed in the seemingly deserted area. He felt his pockets over, aha, a Kit-Kat bar. sugary, but when you're that hungry, it was something, but then as he went to open it, he remembered, Chocolate doesn't like LA heat. It was a sticky goopy mess that he decided to put in a trash can. Odd, of all the things destroyed and rubble everywhere, a trashcan remained standing. Trying to lighten his weight, he took off the chest plate he picked out of the Trojans supply room, as well as dispelling the shadows about him. Despite his shadowy powers, he kept the steel sword though, never know when it could prove useful, as well as getting back to the point of not knowing the limits of your new-found powers yet.