[COMPLETED] After finally turning eighteen, foster-kid Callista Ford, goes out to party with a group of friends, in hopes of coming out of her shell for once, and maybe even snatching up the cute green-eyed guy staring at her from across the room.
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THE blue and red lights came more and more prominent the closer they got. Their white and black vehicles with the loud flashing sirens, and it's red-blue lights. An army of men clad in dark police uniforms stood lined up before them, guns in hand, and ready to shoot when necessary.
Their vehicles, squad cars, were lined up behind them.
''Go.'' Lana nudged Alec with her gun.
In the midst of the light, was a glimpse of a specific type of vehicle that caused Callie's heart rate to spike. The black, armored back, and muscular body layout of a Swat vehicle. It was obvious they were armed with big guns, which meant they could take them out in a swift bullet, and her handgun would hardly stand a chance.
They fired the first warning shot. A glock gunshot that missed them in a breeze, A shot that went by so fast, they saw nothing the second they opened their eyes after blinking.
''Come out with your hands up!'' They shouted through the loud-speaker, the Swat team huddling closer, as their guns tightened in between their fingers.
''Now don't you do nothin' stupid.'' Lana said, reaching over and unclipping his seat-belt. ''You either Callie.'' She pulled the door open.
And in an instant, Alec had Lana pinned in front of him. And before anybody could bother firing a bullet, he already had her body pushed up in front of him like a human body shield. ''You shoot us, you shoot her.'' He said, and Callie couldn't be anymore proud at that moment.
An officer pressed down on the trigger, and the bullet soared through the air like a bird, within the blink of an eye. Lana gasped, and fell over.
Dead.
Alec palmed a vastly enlarging bloody patch on his hoodie, his eyebrows dipping in a furrow.
''Alec, you're bleed - ''
He pushed her up against the side of the vehicle, just as the place began to rain bullets. She tucked her head underneath her arms, as if that would protect her from the encore of bullets flooding the area.
Another police car came screeching down the road, a man in his black dodge challenger, tires squealing on the greyish pavement as he skidded to block off the other end of the street. The bullets didn't slow, more and more shell casings piling on the ground. And in seconds he's perched behind his vehicle, dark bullet proof vest stark against the dark paint, weapon drawn.
Chaos broke out on his radio as he fired his gun.
Alec nudged Callie to make sure she was still with him, and in an instance, he had loaded his gun, and began firing back.
Callie could taste the metal, could smell the gunshot residue, as shot, after shot, after shot, fired. Her heart thumped. The warmness of her palms spread to her ears as she covered them with both hands.
