Eh, why not another improvised chapter to give you something to busy yourselves with. The story is actually written, but I wanted to take this part in a different direction so I just let my brain go. Warren is usually passive so I don't know where this came from. But enjoy anyway.
Warren finished his cereal and placed the bowl in the sink then ran up to his room. He had been in a black t-shirt and some plaid sleep pants the entire time and needed to get changed before Skylar showed up. Warren threw on some clothes and looked at his reflection in the mirror on the back of his door.
Warren had put on a pair of jeans and a plain white t-shirt. There had been a brown jacket in what seemed to be his closet, and he threw that on too. His pants wouldn't stay up and after a long strenuous search he found a plain black belt; which he put on and tightened as much as possible.
Warren was giving himself one last once over when he heard the honk of a car horn. Warren straightened his jacket one last time and hurried down the stairs. Mary-Anne was waiting at the bottom.
"Oh, I was just about to tell you that Skylar's here." She gave him a warm smile that in turn made him smile.
"I know, Mom." Warrens' eyes went wide. The "Mom" part had just sorta come out. Mary-Anne's eyes watered with tears of joy. She was holding a black backpack. Warren felt the immediate need to change the subject and quickly asked, "I-is that mine?" Mary-Anne snapped out of it.
"Oh, this? Yes." She handed it to him. "Here dear, now go on, you don't wanna be late for your first day back and remember son; have a good day." She gave him a quick hug and ushered him toward the front door of the small farmhouse. There were tan boots at the door and Mary-Anne pointed to them. Warren took the hint that they were his and hopped on one foot to get them on, the black backpack swinging wildly on his back. There was another honk and Warren kissed Mary-Anne's cheek then ran out the door. There was a small "See you later son." From Travis, but Warren didn't register it 'till he was outside. He was about to turn around when Skylar rolled down her window.
"Dude! Get a move on!" Warren looked down contemplating it then ran toward the very old, brown Chevy pickup and joined Skylar in the cab. "'Bout damn time." Warren was almost shocked at her for cursing like that, but she sped away and Warren was too busy holding onto the "holy-crap-strap" to even address it.
Skylar took a fast left turn that sent Warren into the door. "Jesus Skylar; slow down will ya?" Warren really didn't want to go into a coma again because of reckless driving.
"So he speaks." There was a smile in her voice. Skylar looked up at the rearview mirror and frowned. Warren noticed immediately.
"What's wrong?"
"This guy won't get off my ass." Warren looked in the side mirror and saw a big black van with tinted windows. The van sped up and was getting way to close for Warren's comfort.
"Sky, I think they're gonna ram us." Warren said quickly.
"They're what?!" But before Warren could repeat himself the van rammed the truck and sent them off the road where they quite fiercely hit a tree.
Warren's head ached and as he opened his eyes he saw Skylar; unconscious at the wheel. He glanced around trying to gain back his senses when both doors were ripped open by black masked men.
"Oui, this one's still awake." The guy near Warren yelled to the other one. Warrens mind ran wild and he began to panic a little, but as panic rose, so did an idea. Warren lifted his hands in surrender, and then unbuckled his seatbelt with his left hand. "Oui, what are you doing pal?"
"I'll come quietly." Warren began to get out of the truck and the black masked man backed up, a small hand gun pointed at Warren.
"Oui, he says he'll come quietly." The man yelled to the other, who was carefully caring a limp Skylar to the black van. Warren noticed the man was distracted and moved quickly. Warren balled up is face and right-hooked the guy in the face, hearing a crack and sprinting away as quickly as possible. Warren ran as fast as his feet would take him, but he didn't get far. There was a gunshot and as he began to fall Warren realized he had been shot.
As Warrens' eyes began to close he watched the men walk in front of him waiting to pick him up. The one that he had hit was still bleeding from the nose and as Warren's consciousness faded into darkness he smiled. He had one his own little battle.
