What next?

3- The time I changed my opinion on Canadian soldiers

"Ladies, I believe you'll be the ones talking."

***

As if that was their cue, all the soldiers surged towards us from their semi-circle. They came charging at us with black boots, black helmets that looked like motorcycle helmets, sleek black suits, and shockingly, no weapons. Or at least none I could see.

My first instinct was to run, though I couldn't with my injuries. I saw Piper jump out of the container, over the rotting wood stairs, towards the soldiers, only to turn around and run as fast as she could away from the soldiers and out of sight. Her face was determined and everyone else followed suit, all of this in almost an instant. Just fan-freaking-tastic. They left me here. Not that it made a difference, I would have fallen behind running since I have about a teaspoon of athleticism in me.

"Yeah. Save yourselves. I'm perfectly fine wi-"

I was shoved forward, a hand pressing on my back while my arms were pulled behind me. On my stomach, my mouth was full of leaves and my vision was black and brown, probably from darkness and my curly hair, which covered my face. Once my arms were forced to be nicely folded behind my back, I felt a gloved hand grab my wrists tightly and another on my hair. My head was yanked back, arching my back and neck and cracking my spine, also pulling out some of my hair I might add. Come on, I just got it to the perfect length! The sun shone in my bright green eyes and all I could see was white as I struggled to breathe with my throat at such a weird angle. Then, a shadow came across my vision. I focused, it was a soldier.

"Which one do you think this is?" he asked, turning his head to his colleague, who had produced a file from no where.

"Uh... Brown hair so either-" he shifted through papers. "AHA!" he exclaimed though his voice was muffled through the mask of his helmet. "Either the one that can hypnotize you, or the one with the weird teeth."

The soldier in front of me turned his head back to me and squatted down, so his visor was level with my face.

"Now, sweetheart, I'm going to see those teeth of yours. Are you going to open up?"

I pressed my lips tight together, and put all the hate I had into my best glare. Thankfully I had practice from my little brother. The soldier simply tilted his head to the side. He carefully put a hand on my forehead, from which I subconsciously cringed away from, and another on my chin. He then yanked my jaw down and my forehead up, which lead to yet another crack. He saw my teeth, but I couldn't see his reaction through the tinted visor. He twisted my head like a dentist inspecting a patient, which I found to be excessively creepy. When he was done, he threw my head to the side and looked up at his partner. God did I ever want to tear his throat out.

"Definitely the tooth one." he said, and the soldier holding the file gave him a sheet of paper. He looked down, seeming to read it before clicking a button on his helmet. His visor popped up, revealing charming blue eyes and and dark, short hair with a strong jawline. The urge to rip out his throat suddenly disappeared. Stay focused, idiot, I told myself. He looked up at me and spoke in a low, now un-muffled voice:

"Says your name is Snipe Fawson. Do all mutts have weird names?"

I spat in his face. He may seem cute in my head, but he's still a jerk. He sighed, and wiped it off his cheekbone with a gloved thumb. I smirked, I found something to annoy him at least. He looked passed my smug face to whoever was pinning me and ordered him:

"Take this brat to the truck. When we get back I think she's been begging for some special punishment."

With that, my hair was let go of and I was pulled to my feet via a friendly yank on the arms. I sucked in a breath of air in order to keep any noise that would signify the pain in my calves silent. The soldier who was questioning me turned around to walk to another black-clothed figure, who was shouting Boss, we got one! and pointing excitedly to where I couldn't see. I was turned to the parking lot, on the left side of the container, where a giant black army truck was waiting. It had a large covered box, which was most likely used to haul soldiers, and a two-person cab up front. The soldier ordered me forward. I sat down in response. He had to crouch with me since he was still holding my arms. I put on my pout face.