everybody in sight, including you and your dad!”
“I don’t care, I’m not leaving him.”
Several deep “thumps” sounded several yards away. Instinctively I ducked low, pulling Tarah into a half crouch with me, as we heard what sounded like soda cans hitting the pavement around the edge of the crowd.
Someone screamed out in pain. Smoke formed in a ring around the protestors, growing fast as it ro se up in the air then spread like a dancing wall of gray.
“Let’s go!” I yelled to Tarah. I couldn’t see her dad anymore through the sulphur -scented smoke, could barely even see her though I still held her hand.
She twisted, trying to get loose. Growling, I bent low and threw her over my shoulder, then stood up and started strong arming my way through the panicked crowd on the sidewalk as people stumbled and fell and pushed and shoved each other in mindless attempts to escape the rotten egg-smelling smoke only to get lost in the streets.
A breeze kicked up, parting the smoke slightly to my left and gi ving me a glimpse of my truck parked half a basketball court length away at the curb. Keeping a hand on the wall so I couldn’t get lost in the smoke again, I gritted my teeth and fought to stay upright as more elbows and shoulders rammed into my other side.
Tarah wasn’t helping, either, as she screamed and beat at my back, making it nearly impossible to hold onto her.
I cursed. “Tarah, stop it! We’ll come back for him after the smoke clears.”
She stopped fighting me, and a long minute later I finally managed to get down the sidewalk and over to my truck without dropping her.
At my truck, I quickly threw open the driver side door and set Tarah inside.
She coughed then spat out, “You arrogant son of a—“
“You can cuss me out later. Get in.” I nudged her legs over so I’d have enough room to get in behind the wheel. Apparently wanting to avoid being so close to me, she scooted over to the passenger side and reached out towards her door’s handle. But I’d engaged the child safety locks on it long ago to keep Kyle from trying to do any more Chinese fire drills every time he rode with me anywhere and we stopped at a light in town. I hit the electric locks before she ever grabbed the door’s handle.
She tried the handle anyway, slammed both palms on the door in frustration when it wouldn’t budge, then turned to me, a dangerous light in her eyes.
“Would you settle down?” I told her. “I said we’d go back for your dad and I meant it. Just let the smoke clear out so we can see him.”
Huffing out a loud sigh, she crossed her arms over her chest but thankfully sat back in her seat and waited.
Satisfied she was calming down a little, I twisted to look over my shoulder, trying to see where Dr. Williams might have run off to. My heartbeat skipped then pounded even harder than it had while I had been running with Tarah over my shoulder.
Those sirens weren’t coming from police cars. They were coming from a bullhorn held by a soldier who stood by a huge, six wheeled military truck with a khaki-colored canvas roof over the back end that had pulled up at the other end of the street. Even as I watched, soldiers continued to flood out of its cab and back end. All of them were dressed in gas masks and brown camo, none with any patches, each carrying what looked like pump action shotguns that were probably filled with all kinds of anti-riot fun.
I cursed under my breath. “Tarah, get down. If those guys see us in here...”
This time she didn’t argue but slid down low in her seat like I did. We both carefully peered over our seats through the back glass window, watching in silence as protester after protester was grabbed by the soldiers, thrown face down on the asphalt, and their hands zip tied together at their backs.
Then I noticed something...not a single TAC member had been caught. Because they’d somehow managed to get away in time?
Or had Kyle and his dad been the ones to use
“I don’t care, I’m not leaving him.”
Several deep “thumps” sounded several yards away. Instinctively I ducked low, pulling Tarah into a half crouch with me, as we heard what sounded like soda cans hitting the pavement around the edge of the crowd.
Someone screamed out in pain. Smoke formed in a ring around the protestors, growing fast as it ro se up in the air then spread like a dancing wall of gray.
“Let’s go!” I yelled to Tarah. I couldn’t see her dad anymore through the sulphur -scented smoke, could barely even see her though I still held her hand.
She twisted, trying to get loose. Growling, I bent low and threw her over my shoulder, then stood up and started strong arming my way through the panicked crowd on the sidewalk as people stumbled and fell and pushed and shoved each other in mindless attempts to escape the rotten egg-smelling smoke only to get lost in the streets.
A breeze kicked up, parting the smoke slightly to my left and gi ving me a glimpse of my truck parked half a basketball court length away at the curb. Keeping a hand on the wall so I couldn’t get lost in the smoke again, I gritted my teeth and fought to stay upright as more elbows and shoulders rammed into my other side.
Tarah wasn’t helping, either, as she screamed and beat at my back, making it nearly impossible to hold onto her.
I cursed. “Tarah, stop it! We’ll come back for him after the smoke clears.”
She stopped fighting me, and a long minute later I finally managed to get down the sidewalk and over to my truck without dropping her.
At my truck, I quickly threw open the driver side door and set Tarah inside.
She coughed then spat out, “You arrogant son of a—“
“You can cuss me out later. Get in.” I nudged her legs over so I’d have enough room to get in behind the wheel. Apparently wanting to avoid being so close to me, she scooted over to the passenger side and reached out towards her door’s handle. But I’d engaged the child safety locks on it long ago to keep Kyle from trying to do any more Chinese fire drills every time he rode with me anywhere and we stopped at a light in town. I hit the electric locks before she ever grabbed the door’s handle.
She tried the handle anyway, slammed both palms on the door in frustration when it wouldn’t budge, then turned to me, a dangerous light in her eyes.
“Would you settle down?” I told her. “I said we’d go back for your dad and I meant it. Just let the smoke clear out so we can see him.”
Huffing out a loud sigh, she crossed her arms over her chest but thankfully sat back in her seat and waited.
Satisfied she was calming down a little, I twisted to look over my shoulder, trying to see where Dr. Williams might have run off to. My heartbeat skipped then pounded even harder than it had while I had been running with Tarah over my shoulder.
Those sirens weren’t coming from police cars. They were coming from a bullhorn held by a soldier who stood by a huge, six wheeled military truck with a khaki-colored canvas roof over the back end that had pulled up at the other end of the street. Even as I watched, soldiers continued to flood out of its cab and back end. All of them were dressed in gas masks and brown camo, none with any patches, each carrying what looked like pump action shotguns that were probably filled with all kinds of anti-riot fun.
I cursed under my breath. “Tarah, get down. If those guys see us in here...”
This time she didn’t argue but slid down low in her seat like I did. We both carefully peered over our seats through the back glass window, watching in silence as protester after protester was grabbed by the soldiers, thrown face down on the asphalt, and their hands zip tied together at their backs.
Then I noticed something...not a single TAC member had been caught. Because they’d somehow managed to get away in time?
Or had Kyle and his dad been the ones to use
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