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Second, the right lane also had an eighteen-wheeled truck that posed the same problem for the attackers coming from the northeast corner. The six men in the two chase cars sat directly behind the last Humvee waiting for the go word. When they received it and started to open their doors, the cars on their left hand side crashed into them and continued pushing them until they were flush against the cars on their right. The men inside started firing their weapons and were cut down from three sides by the men and women of the FBI. Grigory mistakenly took this as a good sign. He thought the attack from the rear had started, as the Greyhound took its position less than fifty feet in front of the first Humvee. He opened fire with the fifty-caliber machine gun, which cracked and then destroyed the bullet-resistant glass, in seconds. The agents inside saw the fifty-caliber, and knew that the window was outclassed and dove for cover. The man and woman in the rear of the Humvee got out and used. Parts of me yearned to befemale again. The temptation wasn't great enough just yet, but Iknew after a few more transformation, this form would be a shellfor her mind...er me.I didn't know who'd I'd be from one moment to the other, shedidn't need to tempt me, she just altered my mind, or soul, orbeing, or whatever you call it so I was her. I wanted to breakdown where I had woken up at. I was in the middle of a pile ofguys at what looked like had been a party. I was exhausted andhungry. I needed to refill like I knew I'd have to fromtransformation. Good thing was, she couldn't take me over likethis. I pulled myself out of the middle of the guys, nude onceagain. I prayed they wouldn't wake up to find a nude guy they hadbeen fucking.I stumbled into the kitchen and crammed whatever food I couldinto my mouth. It was the greatest feeling I'd ever felt. I couldfeel my hunger disappearing, though I knew my hunger in anothermouth would be even greater than this. I didn't care at the time,I was.
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You can hear him mumbling to himself, in the same anxious tones one would expect from a frightened animal. You can also hear the scraping of the old school desk being drug behind him, ripping through leaves and scratching the same shallow cuts into the surface of the earth as the stray branches scrape onto his pale, boyish wrists. But if you turn your ear toward the valley, dimming in your mind the sounds of the boy, you’d hear the most important sound of all, the sound of an alarm. At this point it is safe to assume the residents of the nearby mountain town (from which the alarms toll) are in full panic. Mothers are clutching their crying children, men are grappling for supplies, and elderly couples lock hands and kneel by their marriage bed in prayer, deciding it best to die together. There is no chance of survival, even if most of the roads out of town weren’t washed away by yesterday’s storm. Still, most of the town will try to flee – some on foot. In this way people are.

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