End of the Line

  Standing tall and ready, I swung the bat at one of the men. The other jumped after hearing the metal bat collide with his companion. I stood there, ready to hit again as the other was reaching for something. That was when I remembered they had a gun. Their gun fire was what had separated Lauren and me in the first place. I acted quickly as I swung the bat into the guy's shoulder. While the two were on the ground, I planned to go back down into the cellar to be with the others, but I wasn’t quick enough.

  Hands were tightly wrapped around my shoulders to pull me backward as I struggled to get free, twisting every which way so that I could fight the offender away. I couldn’t get caught; there was too much depending on me right now. It wasn’t just my life anymore. There were also the lives of the children in the cellar, who had more than just grown on me. Then there was Lauren.

  I thrashed around as I strived to get away from my capturer.

  “Stop it, you piece of crap!” a voice growled.

  I was pushed onto the ground roughly as I rolled over onto my back with hopes of getting off the ground before the men came at me again. Unfortunately, one of their boots had other plans as its owner kicked me in the side. I groaned as I tensed, looking up just to see third party hover over me. There, standing tall and proud with a smirk on his face, was Mr. Dean Manson himself.