Julie giggled dismissively. "You no tell me what to do," she cooed, as she playfully removed Mario's hand from her shoulder and hopped off the bus. Before finding a bush at which she could conceal herself from the freeway traffic, Julie paused to examine the front passenger tires.
"Fuck me, those fuckers are shredded." Squatting down, she peered beneath the undercarriage and immediately saw that all the tires had suffered a similar fate. She let out a small whistle and rose up from her haunches. It was hard to imagine what could have done such damage. Some broken glass would leave small punctures and a slow leak, a dead animal or tire tread might cause one blow out, but those things could not account for what she saw here. It was no wonder Mario was on edge. These were the thoughts that weighed on her mind as a black Chevrolet cargo van rolled to a stop behind the bus.
It was then that puzzlement and slight unease gave way to genuine apprehensiveness. A knot churned in her stomach as her imagination played with infinite scenarios of doom and gloom involving road side trouble and a menacing black van. The sun had set more than twenty minutes ago and the world was cast in a gray dye, so Julie slipped in front of the bus with the hope that she had not been spotted. From relative cover she watched as the doors opened and masked men armed with assault rifles filed out of the vehicle.
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