It had been darkness and pounding all along. It had been flashing colors and quietness. It had been gunshot and screams. It had been stillness for Flint Lockwood, since the moment he was shot. He was weak as he lay in the hospital bed. Too weak to move or murmur a single word. But nothing had stopped him from opening his eyes. How long had it been, since he had last opened them. Who cared? He was opening them now! He wasn't dead! Flint had thought he had died. Probably because he had seen darkness for so many days. Fear gripped him as he opened them. His whole body ached and screamed in pain. But he was just in a hospital room. All alone. Where were Brent and Sam? Had the man in the dark blue trench coat killed them? He gasped and coughed at the rush of sudden air down his throat. It still hurt.

"Mr. Lockwood! You're awake!" the door opened and stepped in a nurse with a clipboard. She smiled warmly at him and Flint tried to smile back. But he couldn't. His jaw muscles hurt. He couldn't even nod.

"I'll be right back." She smiled a sweet smile and left the room. Flint wondered she'll be gone for. He needed to know whether Sam and Brent were okay. Then he realized he wasn't wearing his lab coat. Since he couldn't move his head, he shifted his eyes to the left and saw it hanging from the back of a chair. Relief filled him. Thank goodness.

"FLINT!" Brent suddenly slammed the door open and came into the room. Tim followed with his usual small smile on his face. Wait! Flint thought, If dad was here, who was taking care of Steve! And where was Sam?

Brent and Tim came and sat down on the two chairs near his bed. Tim was smiling and had tears of relief and happiness spilling down his cheeks. Brent was grinning from ear to ear.

"Are you okay son?" Tim asked and eyed Flint's wounds and damages. Flint blinked in response. The doctor and nurse came in. They explained that Flint couldn't talk or move for a while; that he was recovering from the shock. Now Flint had a question for everyone in the room. He flicked his eyes to the window.

"It's raining giant strawberries." Brent's smile wavered away and a worried look flickered on his face.

Widening his eyes, Flint looked at the four faces looking down at him. This was bad. The food was mutating to large sizes again. The FLDSMDFR would once again unstoppable. The really bad news was that he didn't have his can of spray-on shoes with him. How were you supposed to stop the machine now? His phone didn't contain the kill code. He had to build a new one after the FLDSMDFR destroyed his last one. He wasn't risking another phone. It took forever to build one and then set up a number and ringtone in it.

"Oh, and I let our neighbors look after your monkey." Tim told Flint suddenly. Flint let out a tiny groan and thought about it. Their neighbors were the Devereaux. That meant Earl and his family. Earl was just the person. Flint imagined Earl chasing his monkey and wished he could laugh out loud. But he couldn't.

"And Sam had to go somewhere…" Brent replied and trailed off his sentence. Something told Flint that he wasn't going to tell him where. But it didn't sound good. Not by the way Brent said it. Flint narrowed his eyes. At least he could move his eyes and his eye muscles moved.

"We need to go check on another patient. We'll come back later." The doctor told them and he left along with the nurse. Tim got up too. He said that since Flint was okay now, he could go back to ChewandSwallow. Slowly, Tim got up and put his fisherman hat. Waving, he left the room. Brent made sure he was gone, before he leaned in and began to talk in a whisper.

"Sam went to find the FLDSMDFR and the man in the dark blue trench coat. She somehow figured out that he had the FLDSMDFR all along." Brent whispered. When he finished talking, he leaned back in his chair and Flint sat there speechless. Why did Brent let her go? What was he thinking? She could get killed! Now I wished I died! Why couldn't Brent have gone? But then he might be killed. Flint was yelling in his mind. He glared at Brent; who sighed and said it wasn't his fault.

"I'll call Sam and tell her your okay." Brent whipped out his cellphone and speed-dialed Sam.

"Hello?" came Sam's voice.

"It's Brent. Flint woke up the moment you left." Brent grinned.

"OH MY GOD! You're serious?" Sam shrieked at the other end and Brent had to hold the phone away from his ear.

"Yeah. Where are you? Anyone stalked you yet?" Brent joked.

"Very funny," she chuckled sarcastically, "I'm in a taxi headed for the same spot we were cornered at. The street that's under construction near the State Building." She replied quickly.

"Okay. Flint says 'hi'." Brent looked over at Flint and winked.

"Tell him I say 'hi' too. My phone has a very low battery. It'll shut off any seco-" Sam was cut off and her phone's battery died. Brent laughed and snapped his phone closed. He turned to Flint and crossed his arms behind his back. Brent yawned and looked ready to fall asleep.

"Sam says 'hi'" Brent gave an even bigger yawn and closed his eyes for a nap. Seeing that Brent was falling asleep, Flint decided to sleep a little too. He closed his eyes and the device at his bedside started to beep again as the zigzags dropped to almost lines. His heart was playing tricks again.

xxx

Giant strawberries littered the street and it had taken longer than usual to get to the Empire State Building than usual. The police controlling the traffic had to roll the food off the road and onto the sidewalks. There people complained that they couldn't go anywhere on the sidewalks, with strawberries blocking their paths. It had become troublesome, and now people were walking on the edge of the roads. This turned the usual four lanes into two. Cars were being held up and hundreds were late to work. All because of giant strawberries.

The street that held the construction was also littered with strawberries, so that construction workers had to clear away the food instead of working. One worker had tried to eat the whole strawberry. He couldn't even eat a quarter of the strawberry. It was just that big. He had ended up with a full and upset stomach.

Otherwise it was quiet. Sam was pissed that her phone had ran out of power. But as long as she knew Flint was okay, she was fine. She wasn't expecting any calls, except maybe from Manny that Patrick was wondering where the hell was she. But her job was the least she could worry about. The world (mostly NY) was being bombarded with food, and she had to stop it. She stood at the same spot Flint had been shot at. There was dried blood on the concrete. Some of the dark blue fabric from the man's coat (or hat or pants) was on the ground. She picked it up and rubbed it between her fingers.

Suddenly, her eyes caught more. There was more lying up ahead. And more after that. It was a trail. Could this be a trap? She watched enough cop TV shows, where the bad guy would sometimes leave a trail of something and the police or some random person would follow. Eventually the person would come to the end of the trail and be killed or tied up.

"This better not be a trap." She muttered under her breath. But one small part of her was telling her "NO! IT'S A TRAP!" The other side of her was telling her "Do it for Flint. Whether it's a trap or not, you could reach the FLDSMDFR."

"I'll do it." She said out loud and walked over to the other piece of fabric. With each piece, they led her to a metal door on the side of a building. Metal doors were always different things. Some led to boiler rooms, others led to basements. Both were dangerous and frightening to be in. But she was doing this for Flint and Brent too.

When she reached the door, one piece of fabric was caught in the door. Hesitating, she pulled the fabric, but it was still stuck in the door. What if someone is holding on from the other side of the door? Sam thought in horror.

She pulled harder. There was defiantly someone on the other side. A door wouldn't hold a flimsy piece of fabric so tight. She could even feel the grip from the other side. There was someone there. Grunting, she pulled even harder and the fabric finally fell into her hand. Now she expected the door to slam open and the man in the dark blue trench coat holding a gun to her forehead. But there was nothing. No one at all. No man, no gun, and no door opened.

"Sam don't be such a chicken." She told herself and now gripped the handle to the door. Taking a deep breath, she swung it open and a rush of cold air hit her. It defiantly wasn't a boiler room. More like a cold, dark basement. Could the FLDSMDFR be hidden down here? Maybe. Slowly, she walked into the room and the door slammed behind her. Instantly darkness engulfed her. After standing in the dark for a couple of seconds; totally freaked out, Sam heard a click and the lights came on. Someone had turned on the lights. Someone was here.

Frightened, she scanned the room. It was just like all musty, cold basements. There was a bunch of old furniture collecting dust and cobwebs. The walls were made of bricks. The floor was dusty and so was the whole room. When Sam took a step forward, she kicked up some dust and it flew into her nose. Sneezing, her sneeze echoed through the room.

"Bless you." Came a hoarse voice. It came almost in a whisper. Chills ran down Sam's spine and her eyes scanned the room. Who the hell was that? Quickly, she took a step back and her hand gripped the door handle. It was locked when she tried to open it. Suddenly the lights went off and the room was pitch black. Whimpering, Sam heard footsteps coming closer to her.

Her heart was caught in her throat and she wished that it wasn't the man in the dark blue trench coat. If it was, she was defiantly screwed. There was no denying that.