Chapter 2

Their truck was packed up and traveling towards their destination. The trio rode in silence and the uneasiness they all felt grew stronger the closer they got. Several minutes out of the city's limits, their car reached a road block. Men dressed in military uniforms approached their car quickly, Roy gave them the letter, and the men took their luggage. Tags were placed on each bag and was loaded onto a large beige colored bus that already had several dozens of bags stacked in it. Melanie took her daughter's hand and the child squeezed tightly as if she thought she might lose her forever. The mother looked around trying to make sense of the situation and feeling like she should already have a handle on it. Military men were everywhere. One thing that should have made her feel better was none of them seemed inherently mean or pushy, but the coldness and lack of emotion on their face made her worry not only in general, but for the soldiers themselves. How many horrible things could they have seen to be able to mask their emotion like that? How many of them didn't have a place in one of these shelters?

Out of habit, Melanie weaved her free arm around her father's. He could always make her feel safe... or... safer than she did now. Her father was taller than her, but not necessarily a tall sort. She had inherited her thick hair kind demeanor from him. Her father wasn't a skinny man, but held a sturdiness on his frame from the decades of hard labor and mechanic work. He was in his late fifties, bald on top with gray hair on the sides, and held a dark, sun-aged complexion that gave him a leather bound toughness to his demeanor. He wasn't a scary man, but he wasn't exactly messed with either. She trusted him with her and her daughter's life.

Melanie glanced down to her daughter at her side. The 8-year-old's face was buried into the soft plush of her puppy, refusing to look at anything that was happening around her. Melanie wouldn't make her. The three of them were ushered onto a large bus of people. Roy took the lead, grabbing his daughter's hand and leading them to a seat to a seat close to the back. Mel sat by the window, lifting her daughter to her lap and wrapping protective arms around the girl as she hid her face. Roy sat on the outer seat like a bodyguard, keeping a close eye on every person around them. They sat three seats from the back. Roy didn't know why he was so on edge or why anyone would hurt them but he was always protective when he was out of his bubble of comfort.

Jill was completely silent as she buried her face in her mother's neck, still refusing to look at anyone. Her eyes wouldn't fall on anything until she felt safe. Melanie wished she could do the same. People were walking, single file down the aisle of the bus. Every person held onto children or spouses or friends as they loaded onto the bus. Fear reflected in the faces of each person as the entered. Every person except one.

When he walked onto the bus, a silence filled it. Standing at no less than six feet tall, he towered over all of the other passengers as he passed by. His weathered face held no expression as he passed by each person, looking no one in the face. His exposed arms were tanned and covered in dark tattoos. His dark eyes and jet black hair gave her the impression of Hispanic heritage. He was probably around 45 and he wore an old leather biker's vest over a black tank top. His outfit in unison with his tattoos and his hard expression, gave the impression of danger and uneasiness to everyone on the bus. He had the look of a criminal. He sat in the empty seat closest to the back, which happened to be directly behind her. It wasn't until he sat down behind her that she realized she was staring. He sat down roughly and his dark eyes met hers. The dangerous looking man's expression never changed but his eyes were so intense that her stomach turned with his glare. Melanie quickly turned away from him. She looked at her father who was still looking at the man with what seemed like disdain before he, too, turned to face the front of the bus. Melanie could still feel the man's eyes burning through her as he continued to stare.