"Life is fifty wrong turns down a bumpy road. All you can hope is that you end up somewhere nice." - Punk 57
*I don't own any of the characters except the OCs.
Melanie Lovett was a former CIA Agent. She decided it wasn't in the cards for her to kee...
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Flashback
I was in the truck with my father in the passenger seat. A woman with bright red hair was driving, her grip on the steering wheel was so tight, her knuckles white. I didn't know what was going on. All I saw was fields of grass and plains. All I knew was that we were going somewhere safe. That's what my father had told me.
Sitting in the back, I suddenly felt the car jerk to the side. I held onto the handle located above the window.
"Daddy? What's going on?" I asked nervously.
"Nothing munchkin. It's going to be okay. Just make sure you have your seatbelt on," he answered.
He didn't look back at me and kept focused on the road, but I sensed the uncertainty in his voice. The woman next to him was in the same state. Both seemed on high alert, but I didn't know why. There was nothing out there. Just darkness.
I made sure I had my seatbelt fastened like he had asked me to and then I looked out the window. My hands clenched onto the seat as the truck swerved more and more.
"Daddy?"
"It's going to be okay," he tried to reassure me.
I breathed in and out trying to calm myself, grabbing the handle above me again.
All the sudden, the truck took a sharp turn, sending us flying off a nearby cliff. I screamed, getting launched all around the truck. The only thing that kept me from dying was my seatbelt. It held on tight, so I didn't fly out the window. We quickly landed on the ground. I couldn't move much. We were upside down. My head hurt and I had hurt my arm on the car door.
"Daddy!" I screamed out.
I heard heavy footsteps from outside the truck. I snapped my head towards the footsteps. A metal arm swooped down to us. It grabbed onto my father's leg, yanking him out of the car, leaving me behind.
"Daddy!" I screamed out again.
From beneath the truck, I could see them in the distance. My father tried his best to talk but he only mumbled out incoherent words. He was barely conscious.
The man with the metal arm turned to look at me for a second. He was wearing a black utility vest and belt along with what looked like black cargo pants paired with black combat boots. There was no emotion in his dark blue eyes. Black powder surrounded his eyes, and he wore a mask, making him look twice as intimidating. He seemed distant and empty. That terrified me.
He grabbed my father by his shirt, pulling his face up to his. A gun was in his other hand. My eyes widened in horror. The man was going to kill him.
"NO. NO, STOP. LEAVE HIM ALONE! HE HASN'T DONE ANYTHING!" I cried out.
The man didn't even acknowledge me or what I was shouting. All I heard was the shot of the gun go off and then the sound of the flames surrounding us. The truck had caught on fire, and I was still stuck underneath it.
