PROLOGUE
Disclaimer: I do not own The Transporter or anything affiliated with it. I do own Sophie. The song is Pretty Fly for a White Guy by The Offspring.
"Turn on the blinker."
"Dad, I know!"
"Wait a little—Sophie!"
"Will you calm down? I've been doing this for like four months dad, I think I know when to turn. Have a little faith."
"Sorry honey, I know you know what you're doing. Ya can't really blame the old man for worrying."
"I know you worry Daddy, but it's gonna be fine. The tests will be easy!" Sophie Jones told her father. He sighed.
They pulled up to the DMV, and Sophie almost ran to the door. Her father followed her slowly. She rushed through the doors; Ben Jones was greeted with the sight of his bouncing sixteen-year-old daughter waiting for him impatiently by the front desk. He signed the necessary forms and Sophie pranced over to one of the computers. But before she sat down, she jogged back over to the man who had raised her alone for the last eleven years, threw her arms around him, and asked him to wish her luck. He obliged and watched a little worriedly as she plopped down at a station.
Forty five minutes later, Sophie Jones had her driver's license, much to the hidden dismay of her father. Following another huge hug on the part of Sophie, they strolled back to the car she had received for her birthday, a black '69 Charger, her baby. She and her father had spent the entire summer before the beginning of junior year restoring and outfitting it with performance parts. What surprised Sophie the most, however, was that her father was so apprehensive about letting her drive it. Deciding to put it out of her mind, at least for now, she pulled out of the parking lot.
Turning the radio on full blast, she shouted over the music. "See Daddy, I told you I'd pass!" Her father merely shook his head and laughed a little. "You totally had nothing to worry about." Distracted, she didn't notice that she had run a red light, narrowly missing a collision with a semi.
"Watch the road!" her father bellowed.
"Sorry," she said sheepishly. Suddenly she screamed. "This is my favorite song!" She proceeded to giggle girlishly, as she was prone to do. Growing up in the upscale residential area of San Diego, one adopts certain habits that are hard to break.
"Pretty fly for a white guy…" Sophie sang nasally, making her father laugh. She giggled again, and turned slightly in her seen to talk to him. "Daddy---"
"Sophie!" her father yelled. She turned to the front in time to see a pick-up truck barreling toward them at ninety miles per hour. Her mind chose that moment to freeze; all of her training and lessons scattered; she didn't know what to do. She screamed.
"I love you Sophie!" her father shouted to her before the truck slammed into them.
124578
The lights flashed above her. She was vaguely aware of a dull ache in her legs and back, as well as her head. The lights kept moving by quickly. They were so pretty; she smiled wanly. Then there were distant voices. They seemed to be telling her everything was going to be fine; she was going to be fine. With that knowledge in mind, she calmly floated off into the black void that was accompanied by the cool flow of air down her nose and the slight pinch on the inside of her left elbow.