Denise screamed. She didn't know what else to do, in fact, what had just happened
barely registered in her mind at all. She sunk to the floor, tears streaming down her face.
"My babies.. Oh god..."
Meanwhile, Tom was trying to avoid taking the major streets and intersections. He knew
that traffic would probably pile up with the police out in full force. The last thing he
wanted was to be stopped or get stuck in traffic. He kept his eyes open for his daughter,
her car, or this creature while changing radio stations to try and get a more recent update
on just what exactly was going on.
It came to mind that he hadn't stopped to load the shotgun. Carefully pulling the box of
shells from his coat pocket, he retrieved a few shells to load into the magazine, putting
the box back into his coat. Then, his phone rang. Placing the shells next to the shotgun
in the passenger seat, he picked up the phone to see who was calling. It was from home,
he answered.
"Did you get a hold of her?"
"Tom!! Oh god! Tom.." A shaken Denise managed to stutter over the phone.
"Denise? What is it? What's the matter?"
"Oh my god.. This isn't happening!"
"What?! What's wrong??" Tom shouted through the phone, making a sudden decision to
return home, merging into some sparse traffic in order to turn around.
"Brandon! He.. He.. Oh god!"
"Brandon? What about Brandon? Denise! Calm down! Tell me what's going on!"
"I don't know what happened.. He was complaining about being hot, and.. And.."
Tom was trying his best to be patient and let his wife finish. He pulled onto the highway
to try and get back faster, as there was strangely almost no traffic on the highway.
"He fell down and.. Oh my god. This isn't real, Tom! Come back home, please!"
"I'm on my way now, baby, hang on. Is Brandon okay? Are you okay?"
"Brandon's gone! Oh god! He.. He.."
"What?! Where did he go? You let him leave?!"
"No! Stop yelling at me!!" Denise was sobbing loudly, it was hard to understand her.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Calm down.. I'm going to be there in a few minutes, I just need to
know what's going on. What happened to-"
A truck slammed into the right side of Tom's car, crippling it and flipping it over. Not
wearing his seatbelt, he was jerked around like a ragdoll as the car spun across the
pavement several times, finally resting in a ditch across the highway.
Once stopped, everything was still and silent. It was late and dark, and with the advisory,
no one was out on the highway. Tom lay unconscious in the car, unable to hear his wife
screaming his name from the cell phone that was flung into a field far from the accident.