Traffic Novels & Stories

Wyatt liked that idea very much too. I pull up in her driveway at a screeching stop. I jump out the truck and walk fast to her door . I started to bang on the door " KATRINA !!" I yelled Surely that would wake her , that would wake everyone up in the pack house. After a second I still didn't hear anything from inside . So I walked around the house to the back door . I turned the knob and it opened but I couldn't go inside because of the damn force field that covers the house, she told me .

Looking at it from afar, one would think that it was the entrance to a factory. Only after turning it would one realize that it was a narrow alley. “Gaby, help me to check the traffic lights,” Kim said. Gaby took out his cell phone and opened up some unknown app. After clicking on it, it displayed a map of all the roads around the area. Everything was clearly displayed on it, even whether the traffic lights on the road were red or green and how many seconds were left until it changed. Anna turned around and saw that Tomas made a turn there too.

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Goodbye. ****

After coming out of all the hidden turns, I pulled off onto the main street and cranked the radio up as I drove home. It was just eight forty-five when I pulled into the driveway. Jarren’s car wasn’t there, so I figured he was still with Mason. I walked into the house, and my stomach growled violently, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten since noon. I walked into the kitchen and put on a frozen pizza. I couldn’t be bothered to make anything elaborate, though I knew Jarren wouldn’t be too happy about it if he found out. I walked up the stairs and slipped out of my shoes. I headed back downstairs and hung around the kitchen until my pizza was done.

I couldn’t even imagine how much that cost. Still, Sam and him had gotten into it about something in the city. They now argued every time they were within eye-line of each other. Kevin escaped in his very modest Toyota Sequoia. The only thing that wasn’t modest was the color. It was in what was called a Supersonic Red and I didn’t think that large of a car needed to be supersonic. That was not the point, but far be it from me to point it out.

**Lisa's point of view:** Ace’s men led us to another convoy of SUVs waiting outside. The tension in the air was palpable, but knowing Ace was with us brought a sense of calm. Mia, still weak but more hopeful, held my hand tightly as we climbed into the back seat of the lead car. Ace sat beside me, his presence a reassuring anchor. As we drove through the winding roads, Ace filled me in on what had happened during his trip. He had been tracking The Jackal for weeks, only to find that the elusive criminal had orchestrated this attack on our home as a diversion. Ace’s anger was evident, but so was his determination.

I said as I bit his lower lips and he groaned. " We should really talk about this," he said as he breathed hard and in response I pressed harder on his hardness. “ Fuck, stop doing that," he groaned, “ Then take me home," I said, I sat back on my seat as he started the car and drove off. The car was filled with sexual tension admist the tension of wanting to know who hurt me. His gate opened and we drove in as he stopped in front of the house. I could see him clutching his steering wheel so tightly so I held his hand.

It was a brown big box with paper with a little writing on it. From: Happy Scholarships To: Todd Thomas ' I hope I'm happy in the end,' I muttered sarcastically and slit the seal. I opened the box and saw a white envelope with the same notes: From: Happy Scholarships To: Todd Thomas I took it and checked the back if there were any notes but found none so I just tore open the envelope and took out the letter. It was short and it looked precise. Dear Applicant Todd Thomas, We appreciate your effort and time to apply for Happy Scholarships but we regret to inform you that you were not selected among the chosen. We ask for your patience and understanding. You can apply next year and can be possi

That got me moving. I stumbled into the living room, bare feet cold on the floor. The big monitor on the wall—our “situation board”—blazed with a map. Red threads. Yellow nodes. City names. Prague. São Paulo. Lagos. Chicago. Tokyo. Everywhere. “What am I looking at?” I asked, heart rate climbing. “Traffic systems,” Niko said, voice clipped. “All at once.” One by one, city grids filled the screen in miniature.