On the long stretch of the highway: the left side for vehicles fleeing the town was a fully stacked traffic and, to the right, it was nearly empty except for two vehicles roaming the lonely plane. A black polished car and news station van.
There was an entry way up ahead, however, men adorned in military uniforms set up a blockade around the place likely to keep people out as the whole town was being evacuated. This was partly due in sync to the broadcasted news that was heard on every radio channels. The radio broadcasters said the same thing over and over and over. They speculated on the many reasons why this evacuation was sudden. Some said it was an Earthquake. Others, a criminal on the loose whose whereabouts-unknown-is causing panic. Or that all this government intervention is just a conspiracy to work with big companies to rid of the locals and increase profits. That's what they thought.
Regardless of whether it is real or not. The speculations. The reason for this evacuation couldn't have been the mentioned above. It was obvious from first experience that the type of sudden appearances of armed men and vehicles meant that big creatures unknown origins have descended and are causing unwanted attention and harm to the local populace, and so the means for this evacuation is justified by all means necessary.
As the two vehicles approached the entry point, a man holding what seemed to be a rifle on his one hand, raised his other, and waved at the front lead driver. The black polished car stopped and rifleman bent down his back to see the driver, "What are you doing here; place is being evacuated!" He said in no means friendly.
The driver looked unbothered. He reached for his pocket and showed the rifleman, adding to his identification a few words. "Standby," the rifleman said and returned a call to his radio.
About a sixty seconds in, the rifleman returned to the driver with nod. "Let them pass," he said and ordered the crane to be lifted.
The driver wined the window glass up and drove, and the newstation van followed from behind.
Alice, who took the driver's, thought that there would be more of a struggle with the soldiers residing with this check point, but that don't seem to be the case. Hell. The mere thought of it nearly escaped her very mind when they were accepted into checkpoint of the mine they were supposed to report about. She guessed that they aren't that different, but in cases like this, for the front driver to make the soldier agree and go with the flow, was in it self, sketchy and believably shady. Maybe when they stop then she could ask how the driver pulled it off.
Unnatural-that was how she described it.
~~~~~~
The two vehicles made their stop into a parking lot.
As soon as the they got out of their respective seats, the doors swinging, and feet on solid concrete, they were met with the scorching touch of the sun's light. Though not really scorching as in it literally burns skin; tolerance of the weather was giving 'I don't want to be in the sun' scenarios.
The clothes that Alice and Luna were wearing did however sort of fix the problem, technically. Alice wore a light linen dress and a wide-brim hat to shade her face. Her feet fitted sandals saving them from the heated pavement. Standing beside Alice, Luna slipped on a pair of sunglasses, and wore a loose cotton top tucked into airy shorts while white sneakers ground her look. A small tote hangs from her shoulder, sunscreen and water tucked inside. The clothes material acted like ventilation shafts allowing air to freely move around, keeping them cool and protected. Aside from practical, the clothes were stylish - a neat gift from their benefactor.
The two friends had changed into their new clothes the moment they were freed from prison. Max, the front driver, was kind enough to offer a change of clothes at a nearby trade store since upon release, the girl's had no money to buy their own stuff because they weren't suppose to stay that long in the country. Max's offer wasn't sound; and yet he did it anyways, just so the weather of the country didn't have a bad effect on them.....considering the location and geography.
Max's clothes didn't change one bit. He wore the same exact suit; the same black and white from the assembly house to prison holding to now the parking lot near the coastal area.
Up ahead, another checkpoint appeared.
When the group came into view, it was sure enough that Max would handle the talks and negotiations, but no...in that instant, the soldiers raised their firearms shouting, "Put your hands in the air!"
"Sorry but I'm no ordinary civilian-" Max said.
"KEEP QUIET!" One of the male soldier shouted back as a warning.
This is different, Alice thought.
Usually from the first checkpoint they passed, the soldiers were kinder. These soldiers here weren't. She saw Max approaching them.
"Listen to me," Max attempted to reason, "I'm here on official business." He made adjusted steps forward.
The soldiers noticed this
"DON'T MOVE ANY CLOSER!" The other said. But Max didn't listen as he kept moving and moving, "I SAID DON'T MOVE ANY CLOSER!" The warning was repeated.
Somehow. Max didn't flinch no less hesitate. He spoke, "My name is Max [surname] and I'm a friend of-" before he could finish he was pushed to the ground by one of the soldier that moved beside him and wrapped his hands behind his back.
"YOUR IN BIG TROUBLE BUDDY!"
Alice and Luna raised their hands up, complying, standing as still as a statue not wanting to aggregate soldiers any further. It was only days earlier from the first encounter, and another incident is happening: hands tightly gripped on the handle, fingers gracing the tip of the trigger, weapons loaded, minds racing, and hearts beating, everyone was on the verge of action. Were they gonna pull the trigger??!
"L-listen to me-ngh!" His breath hitched as the weight crushed the air from his chest. "I'm-ugh-a friend of Theodore Lockyn. Just-just tell him..." He gasped, trying to turn his head against the ground. "Tell him Max Turner has kindly asked for an important meeting with you."
He was then hauled upright with a grunt as his arms were wrenched behind his back, wrists twisted together in a brutal lock that sent a jolt of pain up his shoulders. He stumbled. Barely keeping his footing as the grip tightened.
"Not gonna happen, buddy," the soldier said close to his ear, voice low and unyielding. The hold cinched tighter.
"Now move!" The male soldier instructed. The soldier gave a sharp glance over his shoulder at the two girls who had been standing by. He jerked his chin.
"You two, follow him," he said curtly, tightening his grip just enough to make the point clear.
~~~~~~
A different story unfolded in the tents. They lost contact again inside the Myfecta : meaning they had to sacrifice the Box holding the RS instrument for Ben to make a run for dear life towards the exit. The Myfecta's flush. Darkness had filled the room. The Director regrettably to point mess-up. So he went outside of the tent to take his mind off of things. "Shit!" He cursed lowly.
He took out a cigarette from his pocket, lit the tip, and puffed a smoky waft like grey curtains through the breezy air of the coastal outdoors. He drew again -longer this time-his hand holding it firmly as he took a longer. With a quiet exhale, he brushed the ash away squinting at the horizon towards the sea.
He was then interrupted when a soldier rushed to him, telling him of someone wanting to see him. Though it was a limited time to relax, he enjoyed it. "Who is it?" He asked the soldier.
"Someone going by the name Max Turner."
Immediately, the cigarette fell to the ground. The Director, stunned.
"Show me," the Director said, and the soldier led him to the familiar name in question.