Disclaimer: I don't own anything except original characters.
Rachel Weaver.
Chapter 1.
"Rachel! Come on!" I heard my mother, Linda shout. The alien machine was right behind us.
"Keep running mom!" I yelled to her, ducking behind a beat up car as the machine shot some kind of laser like thing at me. I cocked my fathers gun that I had taken from the back of his closet before we left the house. Peeking over the car, I shot at the machine, only to have the bullets bounce off.
"Shit!" I cursed, and ducked down once again as it shot at me.
"Rachel!" I heard my mothers terrified shriek. I looked over to see her crouched behind a flipped over public bus. The machine then directed it's attention at her. The ground shook as it made it's way over to her.
Panicking, I ran out from behind the car and shot at it again.
"Hey! Over here!" I shouted. With a creepy moan, it turned back to me. I took off in the opposite direction, the ground shaking as it followed after me.
I looked over my shoulder to see it raise it's gun/laser thing at me. I screamed and jumped out off the way as a mini explosion went off were the laser hit the ground.
I landed on my back, right next to another car. I quickly rolled underneath it, right threw some broken glass. I bit down on my lip to keep from screaming when the machine walked right by the car.
I stayed under the car until the machine turned down a different street. Once it was out off sight, I rolled out from underneath the car and stood up.
"Mom?" I ran back to were my mom was hiding.
"Rachel!" She came out from behind the flipped over bus, and hugged me to her chest. She was crying into my hair.
After we took a moment to calm ourselves, we pulled away. My mom's eyes widened and her face paled.
"Rachel, your arm!" She panicked. I looked down to see a shard of glass sticking out of my right arm, blood spilling off my arm and onto the street. How did I not notice that? The shard was at least 5 inch's long and 1 inch thick.
"Whoa." I whispered, getting slightly dizzy.
"Oh dear, the adrenaline is wearing off. We need to stop the bleeding." Mom told me. I took off the plaid pink button down shirt I was wearing and she wrapped it around my arm, the glass still sticking out. I am now only in my pink tank top, grey skinny jeans and my old tennis shoes.
"What about the glass? I cant have glass sticking out of my arm!" I started to cry, the pain kicking in.
"I know baby. We're going to get you some help, but I cant take the glass out. You'll only start to bleed more." She said in a soothing voice only a mother could have. I nodded and she pushed my hair out of my face. I look most like my dad. I have very light blonde hair that reaches my chin, with side bangs. My mom has light brown hair that goes down to her shoulders. My father had also taught me to shoot a gun when I was ten, saying I should always be able to protect myself. I'm fourteen now.
"We cant be out in the open for much longer. That machine thing could come back at any second, and it might have backup." I said. Mom nodded and we set off in search of safe place to rest for the night.
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