Part 456: The Assault Part 1
3:11 pm
Flower was enjoying her new car. Hurley had bought it for her for Christmas last year. Everybody was so proud of her for learning how to drive. The former lost girl had grown up to be a responsible woman. She had taken her duties as babysitter very seriously. It was her job to pick up Bridgett from the daycare and get her home. However, today she had a special guest with her.
Alexander sat in the passenger seat, gripping tightly onto the door handle. He took deep breathes every two minutes. Bridgett sat in the back laughing at her step-father’s uneasy behavior. Flower patted him in the leg. “Be easy, Alexander.” She giggled.
“Could you please keep both hands on the steering wheel, please?” the blonde man winced.
“You are such a fraidy cat.” Flower laughed.
“Alexander is a fraidy cat.” Bridgett repeated.
“Oh, great, now the next thing I’ll hear is Mandy calling me a-“
Alexander was interrupted by a black SUV ramming them in the side. The family jerked as the glass exploded around them. They slide into on coming traffic, being rammed by a semi-truck. Their vehicle buckled under the weight of the huge truck, getting rammed under it’s bumper. The rig slowed to a stop, amid the glass and broken car parts.
Flower leaned back from her air bag, coughing. Her neck hurt royally as she fought to remove her seat belt. She looked over toward Alexander. He was gritting his teeth in pain. He then ripped up the air bag, making the powder explode all over him. “Brother?” the brunette whispered.
“Flower . .are you . . are you all right?” he grunted, as he braced himself against the dashboard.
“Alexander . .what’s . . what’s wrong?” she said, rubbing her neck.
The young blonde man grunted as he tried to push on the dashboard. Flower then saw what was happening; her brother was pinned under the wreckage. He was trying to push his way out, but wasn’t having any luck. Flower then looked at the rearview mirror to check on Bridgett. The young girl was knocked out; from the wreck. Flower needed to get her out of the truck and await for help.
Then two men came over and then opened the back doors. The former lost girl blinked when these men reached over and unhooked Bridgett from her car seat. The black clothed man then picked up the young girl, and hoisted her up into his arms, allowing her head to rest on his shoulder. “Please, help us.” Flower whispered.
The two men said nothing. They continued to walk away. The brunette then looked back in shock, seeing the vehicle they were walking toward. It was a massively dented vehicle. “They hit us.” She whispered.
“What?” Alexander grunted, “Who . .where is Bridgett?”
“They are taking her!” Flower said, as she got out of the car.
“WHAT?” the blonde man screamed, “FLOWER!! WAIT!”
Flower then ran up the asphalt road toward the two men. She continued running, and screaming for the name of her adopted niece. One of the men saw her, then pulled out a pistol from behind his coat. Flower saw it and stopped running. Before she had the chance to call to her adoptive brother, the man opened fire on her. Alexander turned his head just in time to see his poor sister get riddled with bullets. “FLOWWEERRR!!!” he screamed.
The brunette collapsed onto the road as other civilians ran away from the gun fire. Alexander felt his heart skip a beat. These men rammed their vehicle for the sole purpose of taking Bridgett, just like they had done before. Flower was just trying to protect her family and it cost her, her life. Alexander then screamed at the top of his lungs as he began to shove the dashboard forward. The metal and plastic began to bend outward; sending shard of it every where. The blonde man then screamed he flopped out to the road. His right leg was cut and a piece of metal was still in it. He began to limp outward toward the road.
Alexander saw the other vehicle driving away. He grunted in pain and anger as he limped toward his sister. Flower wasn’t moving. She laid on the ground motionless. Alexander collapsed near her. “Sister?” he called to her, shaking her wrist.
Flower opened up her eye lids slowly. She smiled at her older brother, taking his hand. Then she closed her eyes again, as he was able to hear one last rush of breath escape her lips. “SISTER!!” the young man cried, shaking her head.
Alexander ignored the pain in his leg and sat up. He slowly picked up the woman, cradling her in his arms. Flower was growing into a beautiful woman and now, all the aspects of her life would be no more. The blonde man cried as he cradled his adoptive sister in his arms. He then stared into the distance of the men who attacked them. He didn’t know who they were but he had every gut instinct told him it was the Liberation. They had taken his sister and a girl he had come to love as his own daughter.
He silently vowed he would bathe in their blood.
Alexander then paused when he heard a cell phone ringing. He looked back and heard it coming from their crushed vehicle. The blonde man then picked up his fallen sister and began to carry her back to the broken four door car. He limped toward the car, feeling the blood ooze out his leg. He grunted as he sat down Flower next to the door. He leaned in and picked up his cell phone. Alexander took another look at it and then was dismayed as it was crushed. The cell phone ring then erupted again.
It wasn’t his; it was Flower’s.
He calmly picked up her purse and then dumped it onto the seat. He then picked it up and pressed the green button. “Hello?” he asked.
“SIT, SIT, SIT.” A computerized voice echoed, then hung up the phone.
Alexander blinked at the sound of the voice and what it told him. It then struck his memory about what Locke had reminded him of a few Thanskgivings ago. A special preparation in case they were all attacked by the Liberation or anybody else. The former lost boy realized this meant the strange military organization that wiped out his tribe was indeed behind this attack. With a heavy amount of fear, he understood this meant something else too.
“Mandy,” he whispered.
-------------------------------------,
Sawyer rocked out the country music playing in the background. He was looking forward to his special lunch he was treating himself. The hamburger patties were frying up nicely in the big skillet. To the right of it, as a glass pan which he use to cook his own French fries. The trick was to always get the grease hot before putting the fries in, just like his Aunt taught him. The garlic bread would be done shortly too. Now all that was missing was a large glass of sweet tea.
The trick to making sweet tea was to place the sugar in the gallon jug before you poured the tea in, not afterwards. That way the hot tea would melt the sugar immediately and it would blend in perfectly with the water. Sawyer brought some sweet tea to a Thanksgiving party one year, trying to convince his “yankee” friends to like it. Kate liked it, as did Shanna but Seth turned up his nose at it. Sawyer didn’t care; he really hoped the girls would like it mostly anyway. The redneck then checked on his garlic bread by leaning over to the toaster. He paused for a moment as the strange flickering light on the reflective metal.
It was a man sneaking up behind him with a garrote.
Sawyer then immediately grabbed his pan full of fries and grease, then flung it directly at the man. The hot grease struck him directly in the face. “EEEEEEYYYEEAARGGGHHH!!!!” he screamed as he collapsed back.
The man behind the burnt man then opened fire with an automatic rifle. Sawyer dove into his living room and made a scramble for his couch. He shoved his right hand into the inline cushions, then pulled out a Desert Eagle .50 pistol; wrapping in plastic. He then rolled over and ripped it out of it’s seal as he did. The black clothed man then began to fire wildly into the living room. Bullets chopped up the few pictures he had on his walls, making them collapsed in heaps of wood and glass. The redneck finally cocked back his pistol and fired at the wall where the man was standing. The bullet went through the soft wood wall and struck the man directly in the hip. He stumbled back and grunted in pain. That was all Sawyer needed to hear.
He quickly stood up and continued to fire at the wall. The bullets burst out from the wall, striking the man. He fired his rifle wildly but only managed to strike the floor board. A bullet from the wall then explode and struck him directly into the eye; exploding out the back of his head. He collapsed hard against the sink area and then slumped down.
Sawyer walked in and quickly turned off all the stove-eyes. He then calmly pulled out the clip from his gun and then slid in another one. The redneck ticked the leg of the man he shot just to be sure. He didn’t budge. Then the southern man walked over to the poor man who was holding onto his whelped face; crying. “Well there, Super Size,” Sawyer laughed, “You interrupted my lunch. Don’t you know how rude that is?”
“Help . . .me . . .” the man whimpered, holding onto his face.
“Yeah, it looks like it hurts. It just so happens, I got an emergency store of morphine.” He said, kneeling down, “If you want me to knock you out, tell me who you are.”
“The . . Liberation.” He coughed.
“Oh, wow. No kidding?” Sawyer looked around, “ Now you earned the morphine. If you want me to dial 911, then tell me if there are any more outside.”
“One . . .on . ..the roof . .” the man whimpered.
“On the roof.” The redneck said, picking up the man’s rifle,” Got it.”
Sawyer slowly stepped outside. He took cautious steps outward looking for anybody on the roof. An Asian man then peered over the side of the roof. “Did you get him?” the man ask before seeing Sawyer staring up at him.
“Not quite there, Fiddler.” The redneck smirked.
“Oh, crap!” the man screamed as he tried to pull his rifle from his sling on his back.
Sawyer then fired the AK-47 rifle upward and struck the Asian man easily. Several bullets struck him across the chest and neck; making him jolt left and right. The Liberator then fell down on the roof, then rolled off the side. His limp body crashed against a porch railing, smashing a flower pot. Sawyer held the rifle on him after he had landed. He wasn’t moving either. The redneck then removed the clip from the rifle to see how much rounds he had left.
Then his phone started ringing.
Sawyer peered from behind the door. The phone on his wall was indeed ringing. He calmly stepped back into the kitchen area and walked toward. He calmly stepped over the writhing body of the man with hot grease on his face. “You got your 911 call, Freddy,” the redneck said, “Not give me a minute to locate the morphine.”
Sawyer picked up the phone, “Hello?”
“SIT, SIT, SIT.” A robot voice echoed in the phone and then hung up.
“Holy monkey crap.” The redneck said, as he hung up the phone.
Sawyer then quickly ran toward his bathroom and got to the sink. He kneeled down and grabbed a box marked with a red cross. He then ran back to the kitchen and pulled out the vials of morphine. He calmly then unwrapped a clean syringe. Within seconds, he injected some medicine in the syringe. Sawyer then scooted over and jabbed the needle in the Liberator’s buttocks. “Nighty, night, Freddy.” Sawyer said.
The redneck then stood up, leaving the poor man to moan. He grunted as he reached behind his fridge, ripping off a taped piece of paper. It was a manila envelope Locke made him put there. It was marked SIT with a black magic marker. He then dialed 911 and then left the phone off the receiver. He quickly gathered up his pistol, then men’s rifles and the keys to his car. He started to walk out of his house, then paused and ran back to this stove. He grabbed a hamburger patty and proceeded to eat it. Then he left.
He quickly shoved the guns and the envelope into his car. After he got it, he quickly tore it open. The contents were instructions and a map. The map was an outline to another outside the suburbs of Los Angeles.
“Vatigo Beach,” Sawyer said, “All right, old man. I’m on my way.”
Flower was enjoying her new car. Hurley had bought it for her for Christmas last year. Everybody was so proud of her for learning how to drive. The former lost girl had grown up to be a responsible woman. She had taken her duties as babysitter very seriously. It was her job to pick up Bridgett from the daycare and get her home. However, today she had a special guest with her.
Alexander sat in the passenger seat, gripping tightly onto the door handle. He took deep breathes every two minutes. Bridgett sat in the back laughing at her step-father’s uneasy behavior. Flower patted him in the leg. “Be easy, Alexander.” She giggled.
“Could you please keep both hands on the steering wheel, please?” the blonde man winced.
“You are such a fraidy cat.” Flower laughed.
“Alexander is a fraidy cat.” Bridgett repeated.
“Oh, great, now the next thing I’ll hear is Mandy calling me a-“
Alexander was interrupted by a black SUV ramming them in the side. The family jerked as the glass exploded around them. They slide into on coming traffic, being rammed by a semi-truck. Their vehicle buckled under the weight of the huge truck, getting rammed under it’s bumper. The rig slowed to a stop, amid the glass and broken car parts.
Flower leaned back from her air bag, coughing. Her neck hurt royally as she fought to remove her seat belt. She looked over toward Alexander. He was gritting his teeth in pain. He then ripped up the air bag, making the powder explode all over him. “Brother?” the brunette whispered.
“Flower . .are you . . are you all right?” he grunted, as he braced himself against the dashboard.
“Alexander . .what’s . . what’s wrong?” she said, rubbing her neck.
The young blonde man grunted as he tried to push on the dashboard. Flower then saw what was happening; her brother was pinned under the wreckage. He was trying to push his way out, but wasn’t having any luck. Flower then looked at the rearview mirror to check on Bridgett. The young girl was knocked out; from the wreck. Flower needed to get her out of the truck and await for help.
Then two men came over and then opened the back doors. The former lost girl blinked when these men reached over and unhooked Bridgett from her car seat. The black clothed man then picked up the young girl, and hoisted her up into his arms, allowing her head to rest on his shoulder. “Please, help us.” Flower whispered.
The two men said nothing. They continued to walk away. The brunette then looked back in shock, seeing the vehicle they were walking toward. It was a massively dented vehicle. “They hit us.” She whispered.
“What?” Alexander grunted, “Who . .where is Bridgett?”
“They are taking her!” Flower said, as she got out of the car.
“WHAT?” the blonde man screamed, “FLOWER!! WAIT!”
Flower then ran up the asphalt road toward the two men. She continued running, and screaming for the name of her adopted niece. One of the men saw her, then pulled out a pistol from behind his coat. Flower saw it and stopped running. Before she had the chance to call to her adoptive brother, the man opened fire on her. Alexander turned his head just in time to see his poor sister get riddled with bullets. “FLOWWEERRR!!!” he screamed.
The brunette collapsed onto the road as other civilians ran away from the gun fire. Alexander felt his heart skip a beat. These men rammed their vehicle for the sole purpose of taking Bridgett, just like they had done before. Flower was just trying to protect her family and it cost her, her life. Alexander then screamed at the top of his lungs as he began to shove the dashboard forward. The metal and plastic began to bend outward; sending shard of it every where. The blonde man then screamed he flopped out to the road. His right leg was cut and a piece of metal was still in it. He began to limp outward toward the road.
Alexander saw the other vehicle driving away. He grunted in pain and anger as he limped toward his sister. Flower wasn’t moving. She laid on the ground motionless. Alexander collapsed near her. “Sister?” he called to her, shaking her wrist.
Flower opened up her eye lids slowly. She smiled at her older brother, taking his hand. Then she closed her eyes again, as he was able to hear one last rush of breath escape her lips. “SISTER!!” the young man cried, shaking her head.
Alexander ignored the pain in his leg and sat up. He slowly picked up the woman, cradling her in his arms. Flower was growing into a beautiful woman and now, all the aspects of her life would be no more. The blonde man cried as he cradled his adoptive sister in his arms. He then stared into the distance of the men who attacked them. He didn’t know who they were but he had every gut instinct told him it was the Liberation. They had taken his sister and a girl he had come to love as his own daughter.
He silently vowed he would bathe in their blood.
Alexander then paused when he heard a cell phone ringing. He looked back and heard it coming from their crushed vehicle. The blonde man then picked up his fallen sister and began to carry her back to the broken four door car. He limped toward the car, feeling the blood ooze out his leg. He grunted as he sat down Flower next to the door. He leaned in and picked up his cell phone. Alexander took another look at it and then was dismayed as it was crushed. The cell phone ring then erupted again.
It wasn’t his; it was Flower’s.
He calmly picked up her purse and then dumped it onto the seat. He then picked it up and pressed the green button. “Hello?” he asked.
“SIT, SIT, SIT.” A computerized voice echoed, then hung up the phone.
Alexander blinked at the sound of the voice and what it told him. It then struck his memory about what Locke had reminded him of a few Thanskgivings ago. A special preparation in case they were all attacked by the Liberation or anybody else. The former lost boy realized this meant the strange military organization that wiped out his tribe was indeed behind this attack. With a heavy amount of fear, he understood this meant something else too.
“Mandy,” he whispered.
-------------------------------------,
Sawyer rocked out the country music playing in the background. He was looking forward to his special lunch he was treating himself. The hamburger patties were frying up nicely in the big skillet. To the right of it, as a glass pan which he use to cook his own French fries. The trick was to always get the grease hot before putting the fries in, just like his Aunt taught him. The garlic bread would be done shortly too. Now all that was missing was a large glass of sweet tea.
The trick to making sweet tea was to place the sugar in the gallon jug before you poured the tea in, not afterwards. That way the hot tea would melt the sugar immediately and it would blend in perfectly with the water. Sawyer brought some sweet tea to a Thanksgiving party one year, trying to convince his “yankee” friends to like it. Kate liked it, as did Shanna but Seth turned up his nose at it. Sawyer didn’t care; he really hoped the girls would like it mostly anyway. The redneck then checked on his garlic bread by leaning over to the toaster. He paused for a moment as the strange flickering light on the reflective metal.
It was a man sneaking up behind him with a garrote.
Sawyer then immediately grabbed his pan full of fries and grease, then flung it directly at the man. The hot grease struck him directly in the face. “EEEEEEYYYEEAARGGGHHH!!!!” he screamed as he collapsed back.
The man behind the burnt man then opened fire with an automatic rifle. Sawyer dove into his living room and made a scramble for his couch. He shoved his right hand into the inline cushions, then pulled out a Desert Eagle .50 pistol; wrapping in plastic. He then rolled over and ripped it out of it’s seal as he did. The black clothed man then began to fire wildly into the living room. Bullets chopped up the few pictures he had on his walls, making them collapsed in heaps of wood and glass. The redneck finally cocked back his pistol and fired at the wall where the man was standing. The bullet went through the soft wood wall and struck the man directly in the hip. He stumbled back and grunted in pain. That was all Sawyer needed to hear.
He quickly stood up and continued to fire at the wall. The bullets burst out from the wall, striking the man. He fired his rifle wildly but only managed to strike the floor board. A bullet from the wall then explode and struck him directly into the eye; exploding out the back of his head. He collapsed hard against the sink area and then slumped down.
Sawyer walked in and quickly turned off all the stove-eyes. He then calmly pulled out the clip from his gun and then slid in another one. The redneck ticked the leg of the man he shot just to be sure. He didn’t budge. Then the southern man walked over to the poor man who was holding onto his whelped face; crying. “Well there, Super Size,” Sawyer laughed, “You interrupted my lunch. Don’t you know how rude that is?”
“Help . . .me . . .” the man whimpered, holding onto his face.
“Yeah, it looks like it hurts. It just so happens, I got an emergency store of morphine.” He said, kneeling down, “If you want me to knock you out, tell me who you are.”
“The . . Liberation.” He coughed.
“Oh, wow. No kidding?” Sawyer looked around, “ Now you earned the morphine. If you want me to dial 911, then tell me if there are any more outside.”
“One . . .on . ..the roof . .” the man whimpered.
“On the roof.” The redneck said, picking up the man’s rifle,” Got it.”
Sawyer slowly stepped outside. He took cautious steps outward looking for anybody on the roof. An Asian man then peered over the side of the roof. “Did you get him?” the man ask before seeing Sawyer staring up at him.
“Not quite there, Fiddler.” The redneck smirked.
“Oh, crap!” the man screamed as he tried to pull his rifle from his sling on his back.
Sawyer then fired the AK-47 rifle upward and struck the Asian man easily. Several bullets struck him across the chest and neck; making him jolt left and right. The Liberator then fell down on the roof, then rolled off the side. His limp body crashed against a porch railing, smashing a flower pot. Sawyer held the rifle on him after he had landed. He wasn’t moving either. The redneck then removed the clip from the rifle to see how much rounds he had left.
Then his phone started ringing.
Sawyer peered from behind the door. The phone on his wall was indeed ringing. He calmly stepped back into the kitchen area and walked toward. He calmly stepped over the writhing body of the man with hot grease on his face. “You got your 911 call, Freddy,” the redneck said, “Not give me a minute to locate the morphine.”
Sawyer picked up the phone, “Hello?”
“SIT, SIT, SIT.” A robot voice echoed in the phone and then hung up.
“Holy monkey crap.” The redneck said, as he hung up the phone.
Sawyer then quickly ran toward his bathroom and got to the sink. He kneeled down and grabbed a box marked with a red cross. He then ran back to the kitchen and pulled out the vials of morphine. He calmly then unwrapped a clean syringe. Within seconds, he injected some medicine in the syringe. Sawyer then scooted over and jabbed the needle in the Liberator’s buttocks. “Nighty, night, Freddy.” Sawyer said.
The redneck then stood up, leaving the poor man to moan. He grunted as he reached behind his fridge, ripping off a taped piece of paper. It was a manila envelope Locke made him put there. It was marked SIT with a black magic marker. He then dialed 911 and then left the phone off the receiver. He quickly gathered up his pistol, then men’s rifles and the keys to his car. He started to walk out of his house, then paused and ran back to this stove. He grabbed a hamburger patty and proceeded to eat it. Then he left.
He quickly shoved the guns and the envelope into his car. After he got it, he quickly tore it open. The contents were instructions and a map. The map was an outline to another outside the suburbs of Los Angeles.
“Vatigo Beach,” Sawyer said, “All right, old man. I’m on my way.”
posted by Jason | 1:29 PM
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