"Since I have no way to get back, Grandma said that I could have Grandpa’s old Chevelle. I promised her I would treat it like a brand new smartphone. When I was learning to drive, Grandpa taught me how to drive a stick. This car means a lot to me. Thanks to Grandpa’s amazing mechanic skills, she started up like she was fresh off the showroom floor. I siphoned the gas tank and put some fresh gas, and was on my way. This car had a bunch of Grandpas old cassettes still in it, so I popped in one. “Carry On My Wayward Son” by Kansas started to play. Hell yeah! This would be a fun road trip. I was in Missouri when I saw four black cars coming up behind me. They all surrounded me on all four sides. Don’t you dare scratch this paint!!! My phone started ringing. Restricted Number. I answered. “Hello?” I said in a somewhat sarcastic tone. “Good evening Mrs. Wells. Do you comply?” said a disguised voice. “Comply with what?” I asked. “We are here to safely escort you to the Macrohard Building,” the voice replied. “Isn’t that all the way in Seattle?” I asked. “Yes,” the voice replied, “we will pay for all the gas stops you need as long as you come with us.” I thought about it for a second.  What happens if I say no? There’s no harm in going. Then again, I would rather leave my car in Colorado. After much thought, I finally said, “I comply, but only if I can stop at my house for a second.” “Boss agrees,” said the voice."

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