On the day martial law is announced and put into effect, the whole city of Nova Aria is on fire.
Lou is stuck on her way home from work. She calls Robert, her distant ex-boyfriend for help, right before a bus crashes into her car. Little does Lou k...
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I lifted my head at the truck engine sounds. It had stopped for a while, and a long silence had taken over since. I prayed that Edgar and Robert would see something amiss, turned around, and got back on the road. But I knew that was wishful thinking.
Edgar would never leave without a fight, rightfully so, and neither Robert. For whatever reason.
I turned to my dad. His eyes dashed back and forth, following Meg's movement like a cat following its prey. Next to him, Vince stared at nothing. He looked paler than a sheet of paper. I didn't think that would be possible, considering how tanned my brother was, but I supposed the way Meg had treated him on Miramar was still fresh in Vince's mind. Charlie kept shaking his head and mumbling like a madman.
The zip tie on my wrist hurt more every minute. I tried to decipher the muffled conversation outside the front door before footsteps rushed to it. The door was ajar. That should be the first glaring sign. Edgar had grilled us so many times on not leaving it open, even just a slightly bit if we didn't want to become mosquitoes' food, and, so far, we had obeyed that rule to the T. I now hoped Edgar and Robert would be ready for a living room filled with mercenaries, each armed to their teeth.
"In position, boys!" Meg jerked her face toward the moving handle, cutting my train of thought short.
Two men who looked like bridge trolls in their tactical gear walked to the door and aimed their machine guns at it, leaving the other four in different corners of the cabin.
"Come on in! Breakfast is ready!" Meg sang like a church bell.
The door was kicked open. Edgar barged in first, holding his gun that now seemed miniature compared to the weapons pointed at his face. Robert came in after, holding Charlie's gun, but the way he looked convinced me that he couldn't shoot anything besides his own toes. I wanted to cry at the sight.
"Who the hell are you..." Edgar's heroic demeanor died a little as the men shouted their overlapped commands at him.
"Put it down! Put the gun down! Now!"
"You put it down first, fuckers!" Edgar screamed back. His face was redder than a boiled crab.
"Put it down, or we blow your brains out!"
"Always have to make things so difficult, don't you?" Meg tut-tutted and came forward.
The rays of sunlight from the window danced on her slick back ponytail. Meg looked quite different now when a bulletproof vest and combat boots replaced her blue dress and stilettos. She tapped one of the men's shoulder. He immediately lowered his gun. Meg then walked over to my dad and smashed her Glock butt in his face. "What the hell? Dad? Dad? Are you ok..." Vince, who was next to him, jumped up only to receive a blow in the back of his head.
Charlie shared the same fate, even when the old man didn't do anything. A muzzle pressed against my temple making my blood run cold.
"What happened to small talk? Hm?" Meg sighed dramatically. "What happened to 'How are you doing?', 'Nice seeing you again?" "Am I asking too much? I don't think that is too much."
