Standing Our Ground

The Beginning

"Shots on our three o'clock!"

A swerve of the van had them all slamming into each other before being violently thrown the other way.

"Keep this damn car straight, Thompson! I can't aim for shit like this!"

"You can't aim on a good day, I'm surprised we let you have the gun!"

"Focus on driving, ass-wipe!"

More gunshots, now from the people in the van in retaliation.

"Shake 'em, Thompson! I ain't going to prison now," someone demands, taking their place to start shooting out the tracker's tires.

"Easier said than done, Calibre!" Another swerve. "You try dealing with Los Santos traffic!"

Evan frantically looked over their location, trying to pinpoint their best exit point.

"Thompson! Turn left!"

Evan crashed into the bolted down table, folding like a cheap lawn chair. He groaned but tried to ignore the pain and likely bruising of his stomach. "Shit. . . Turn left again, then turn right." Someone offered him a hand, but he waved them away with a muttered, "'m all right. . ." He straightened up in his seat. "Thompson, get ready to jump, we're leaving the car on the docks."

Thompson cursed loudly. "I just paid this baby off! Fucking police and their lapdogs! Owe me a new reinforced van!" He undid his seat belt along with everyone else.

The docks were just around the corner, soon they'd have to jump out or risk drowning. Being caught wasn't an option.

Evan would have sighed if he'd had the luxury. How did he end up in this mess?

"Turn the car around, we gotta jump now!"

The car violently pivoted and whirled, Evan could see the cop cars rounding the bend. They'd be able to see the whole lot of them soon, the C-4's on the underside of the van were primed and ready. Everyone nodded to each other and swallowed their fear as they lunged out of the speeding van, Thompson the last to go. They landed in the water just as the van flew over the dock's edge. They had five minutes to get as far away as possible.

Evan broke the water's surface and swam down and out towards open sea. His oxygen tank only had enough oxygen for an hour, he needed to get as far away from the docks as soon as possible. Evan wasn't worried about his crew. The others knew where to go, they were smart, they would be fine.

Still, Evan had a bit of a swim ahead of him, which left him with a lot of time to think.

Dimly, he could see the searchlights above his head. Or was that the van's explosion? Evan couldn't tell.

Outlined in the water were his crew several feet ahead of him. As if controlled, they started swimming further down, Evan following after. The light faded out.

What started this whole downward spiral? A few years ago Evan could have never imagined this was where his life would lead.

He swam into the mouth of a cave, its entrance akin to that of a dragon's maw with jagged teeth and a wicked looking under-bite. Evan had discovered this nifty little cave that opened up into an air-pocket, complete with a mini-island in the dead centre, some three years ago while scuba-diving with his friend Tyler Wilde. They'd been coming back with supplies ever since, tricking the place out to better suit their needs. The underwater cave had enough nonperishable food to last four months, and the stockpile was only increasing, along with enough perishable food to last the month in a pinch; enough weapons and gear to pull a heist seven times over; enough escape vehicles for all five of them and the occasional extra of them; computers and screens with fully functional Wi-Fi, which had been a nightmare to set up and reroute down to the oceanic cave; and couches and beds, in case they needed a place to stay. The crew had even brought video games and their gaming consoles down into the underwater cave.