The men at the car pulled a gun from the trunk, different from the rifles and handguns they all carried. It was silver, huge, and had no barrel. The gun was almost rectangular with a loop at the bottom that housed the trigger. Bars stuck out of each side toward the front, which a man on each side held braced against their waists. The long-bearded man pressed buttons on the back and suddenly yellow lights lit up the side. The three men aimed it toward the group of men and their attackers entwined together in battle. A large pop filled the air and light illuminated from the gun, bathing the group in a cone of light. Then blue streaks blazed through the light, hitting everyone caught in the glow. Their bodies convulsed before they fell to the ground, unconscious, unmoving.
The men who had fired the electric-type gun raised their rifles and began slowly advancing toward those on the ground. They shot darts into everyone, their allies and assailants. Once all were darted the three men secured the crazed people with zip ties and loaded them into the back of the van. Allison’s heart rate returned to normal and sadness engulfed her as she watched each naked body tossed into the van. The rage dissipated as the warmth receded. She wiped the drool from her mouth with the blanket before situating herself back underneath it. Once the van’s doors shut, the three men pulled from their vests metal tubes tipped with long needles and injected them into each of their unconscious companions, skipping the ones that were obviously injured. The injected men awoke almost instantly and assisted in the waking of others. The bearded man who had been giving all the orders during the conflict approached an injured comrade who was pulling himself across the road to the tree line. He kicked the man in the side, rolling him over onto his back. The injured man raised his hands, pleading. Allison could hear his sobs. The leader pointed the gun at the man’s head, mumbled something, and then pulled the trigger. He then proceeded to approach each injured man and fire a single shot into their head as his uninjured men followed him, loading the bodies into the trunk of the sedan.
“Listen, girl. Don’t say a word and do as you’re told, ya here?” Sandra slipped a hair tie from her wrist and held it out to Allison. “Quickly pull your hair back.” Sandra pulled some wet wipes from the glove compartment and began wiping the muck from Allison’s face and arms at a rapid speed as Allison tried her best to tidy her hair.
“Hurry, Sandy. Here they come,” Dave said. His hands tight on the wheel.
“Remember, don’t say a word. Let us do the talking.” Sandra shoved the dirty wipes into the center console. Allison wrapped herself tightly in the blanket and leaned back against the seat.
The bearded man walked over to the car and tapped on the driver’s side window, motioning for Dave to roll it down. Allison scooted over to be behind Sandra and adjusted her blanket, making sure it covered her, only exposing areas of her skin that were clean. She did not want to be near the man who had callously shot his subordinates in the head. He made her skin crawl. Her mind raced, unable to focus on a single thought as hate bubbled inside her, building like a volcano nearing eruption, the warmth building again. Allison swallowed hard. One, two, three—stay calm—four, five, six—stay focused—eight, nine, ten—don’t forget to breathe. She shifted her gaze out the window on the passenger side of the car, focusing on the lush greenery framing the roadway. Two tiny birds fluttered branch to branch squawking at each other, deep in conversation. Allison’s body relaxed, the hate drained from her body, her mind cleared. Dave looked at Sandra, then rolled down the window.
“Wonderful afternoon, sir, ma’am,” the man said, addressing Dave and Sandra. He looked over at Allison then continued, “Where are you heading today?”
Dave replied, “To the medical clinic in Chapel Hill. It is time for our monthly check.”
“And her?” the man asked, gesturing toward Allison. He shifted his weight onto his other foot, allowing him a better view of her.
“She’s our niece, came to stay with us after the tragic passing of my sister at the Earlsboro Massacre. She’s a little traumatized as you can imagine. We are taking her with us to get checked out.” Dave sent the words gliding off his tongue like truth. The man looked at her skeptically.
“We could take her off your hands. We have provided shelter for a few others from that tragic event. Providing them with all the best care.” Sandra placed her hand on Dave’s leg and squeezed while the remaining men surrounded the car, staring at Allison. The inner warmth sparked back to life, flooding her with anger. Allison felt an animal-like aggression building in her chest. A growl threatened to escape her lips. The urge to claw at the face of the man at Dave’s door, just to watch him wither in pain, filled her. Where did that come from? The shock of her own thoughts caused Allison’s mouth to go dry and her eyes to burn with the threat of tears. She bit her lip to suppress them and hung her head.
Dave looked at the man, smiled, and stated firmly, “No, sir, I think we will be just fine. We are all good and believe family is the best medicine in these situations. We would like to be on our way now. We don’t want to be stuck out too late and get caught in the
