Convoy Lyrics Novels & Stories

None of us would let it go. Because the dream wasn’t all lights and freedom and relaxation. It wasn’t all fun and fucking laughs like we thought it would be. It was hard work, it was long hours, and it was worth it. “I got a broken heart because of you, shattered and smashed, it won’t go back,” Conner sings. “You broke it good, baby, ripped it apart. But it still beats, boom boom, yeah it still beats, boom boom . . .now am thinking about us, thinking about me how we gonna be, open my eyes it was only a dreeeeeam.......”

Soldiers formed a barrier, restoring the balance amid the chaos with their unwavering presence, their uniformity finally quieting the restless crowd. Just as Rowan and Crystal’s convoy disappeared into the academy, a pair of contrasting convoys approached, catching everyone’s attention. The black convoy exuded a timeless aura of strength and tradition, while the white convoy glistened with an elegance that drew admiring eyes. The crowd's murmur grew, and the flashes intensified as the figures emerged.

When we got there, the situation was chaos. There was smoke billowing. Men were lying wounded or dead. The cargo was gone. And on the road, in blood, were two words: Stay out. I looked at her. She looked at me. And not a word between us, we both knew. The air was thick with gasoline and gunpowder. I stood on the edge of the wreckage of the convoy, smoke curling around us like a spectre. The acrid smell of burned rubber and blood hung heavy in my senses, but all I could think of was her.

I don’t see any other vehicles on the road. Colton, please tell me that’s you, the convoy heading towards the military truck on route ten? I hold my breath, pausing as nervous energy overtakes and straining to see beyond the blinding lights, but it’s too dark to make out if the trucks are Santo at all. All I can tell is there is a succession of them as they weave slightly, and headlights peek out on the route ahead. It’s us. You’re safe. Pull over.

I laugh at her and the rest of the group join in. We step out of the tree line at the edge of the concordat grounds and are facing the back of the hospital wing attached to the pack house. We decided to walk around instead of going through. We didn't want to disturb anyone that was still recovering from attacks. As we got closer you could hear guitars and drums being played and the murmur of voices was growing louder. The gathering was beginning and for the first time in days everyone sounded happy, or at least pleasant.

Silence fell after that, then he added “We’ll stand beside you.” The words settled into the air like something solid, unshakeable. We've successfully built an alliance, not spoken softly but forged dangerously and stands real. Ryker met his gaze. “Then we’ll make sure it’s a war worth winning.” Something like approval passed between them, brief, sharp but enough. ♧♧♧♧♧♧ The convoy was ready before dawn. The convoy was silent, efficient, and thoroughly prepared. Ironclaw moved like a machine when it needed to.

When she finally lets go, her hands linger on my arms, reluctant to lose the contact. "Goodbye," she whispers. "No," I correct her gently. "Not goodbye. I'll see you soon." I turn and walk out the door. I don't look back. I can't. If I look back at her now, if I see her standing there alone, I won't be able to leave. And I have a job to do. ———— The convoy moves out as the first rays of the sun begin to bleed over the horizon. The engines hum a low, powerful tune as the tires slice through the morning mist. I sit in the back of the lead SUV, dressed entirely in black. Luca sits beside me, his eyes on the road, his face a mask of focus.

“No headlights until the tree breaks. Stay off the ruts. If you see something, it’s nothing. If you smell something, it’s Elliott.” “Rude,” Elliott crackles back. “But fair.” Engines catch. The convoy yawns into motion. Trees slide past in strips. The river keeps our left shoulder company and sucks at the moon with long, patient pulls. I don’t look back at the tower. I don’t need the image when the memory is already stitched into me; purple curtains, a cracked smile of glass, a chimney with bite marks. Next time, Crean, bring better shoes. “Headcount?” Blake asks without looking away from the dark.

“You will. You’re here. That’s already something.” Lira nodded, eyes brimming but steady. “I’m not asking to fight. But I know people in the outer towns. They trusted Cael, and they respected me too. Maybe I can talk to them. Remind them what standing up looks like.” Ember squeezed her hand. “We’ll make it happen.” --- By midday, the convoy came. No grand entrance. Just a slow, calculated pull of dark SUVs, satellite vans, and quiet security teams threading their way into Raven’s Peak. No flags. No blaring sirens. Just the subtle echo of presence.

When he saw me, he straightened, fatigue and uncertainty flickering across his face. "Why—" I started, but he cut in. "Let's talk in the car." Inside, the air carried a light cedar scent, the same as I remembered from that night. He drove us away without asking where we were headed, driving slowly through the streets. After a moment, he spoke in a low, controlled voice. "I tried to find you after the concert, but the crowd was too dense. I lost track of you." I turned toward Chester, the glow of the streetlights shifting across his features. "Then why did you end up marrying Lily?"