“Job in space? Yeah, right,”one of them say.

“I wonder if its true. If it is, what are they planning for us? If they aren’t, then what’s really in store for us?” Number sixty-five asks.

“What the hell!  I want answers!” One of the men screamed and punched the wall.  When he did, his arm went through it.


“God damn!”

“How thick are these walls?”

“Shit!” The man yanks his arm back out.

“That can’t be normal!”

“I’m mad, too. But, holy shit!”

The first to punch through the inside wall pulled his arm out and light and wind came through from the truck moving down the road. Another man peered through the hole.

“We’re on the interstate somewhere.”

“My turn!” Another man said and he kicked the wall and it went all the way through and he gets stuck at the knee.

“Help him out!” Several men pull him out.

This can’t be a good idea.

“How can we be this strong? I know this isn’t normal,” says the man who punched through.

“Ah, what the hell,” I said and I stand on one side of the truck then make a quick dash to the other side and ram my head through and break another hole. As my head goes through I see a red sports car as it tries to pass the truck. I startle the young man who was driving it and he swerves and runs off the road.

Oops. That would probably scare me too. I say to myself as the wind is blowing in my right ear. I look towards the front and see the driver trying to signal me to get back in. He looks pissed. I pull my head back in and look around.

“Didn’t that hurt?” Number sixty-five asks.

“Surprisingly, not at all,” I tell him.

“But, you’re bleeding,” He says.

I feel my face and I feel the blood run down my forehead. I rip off the sleeve of my shirt and wrap it around my head and tie it.

“So strange...” Sixty-five says with a concerned look. “You don’t feel it at all?”

“No,” I say and shrug. “Maybe we should stop tearing stuff apart in here. The driver looked pissed.”

“Who cares what he thinks.  Were probably being kid-napped!”

“Let’s tear this fucker apart!”

“That’s not a good idea! We’re going over seventy mile an hour!” Number sixty-five says. “What are we gonna do? Jump off?”

Several of the guys look at each other. Some look out of the holes we made. Then, they start punching, kicking, and ramming the back door.

“Stop!” Number sixty-five shouts.

“Haha, fuck shit up!” One shouts.

Just then I hear a chopper fly overhead.  It had to be close because I could feel the down force from it’s propeller blades throw the truck around. Someone starts shouting from inside the 

The End

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