Connor looked out the back window, towards the skyscrapers of the city he had called home for these past thirteen years. He was sitting on the floor of his parents' van; they had taken out both the back seats, as this was the only way to be able to transport him at his new size. Right before they had left, he experienced another growth spurt, and now stood at nearly ten feet tall. The last remnants of his underwear had finally given out, so his mom had given him a bright red bed sheet, which he wrapped around himself like a loincloth.
The van ride was uncomfortable; he had to bend down during the entire ride so he wouldn't hit his head on the ceiling, and without a seat belt, he was being thrown back and forth a little bit every time his dad took a curve.
And worse yet, Connor had no idea where they were going. He was reluctant to come along with them at first, but he didn't know what else to do. At this moment, at least, he still had to trust them.
The van continued to go farther out into the country; the city disappeared behind them over the horizon. Finally, Connor couldn't take it anymore. "Dad, what's going on? Where are we? What are we doing?"
His father just looked forward, silent, stoic. His mother, still crying, was looking out the passenger side window. "We'll be there shortly, Connor," was all she said.
Connor leaned against the back of the van, befuddled and confused. His heart had a swirl of emotions: excitement, fear, anger, and regret. He closed his eyes and just tried to rest for the remainder of the ride.
He woke up an hour or so later, and looked out the window. He saw a sign that read: West Taylor Army Base.
"An army base?" Connor exclaimed. "Dad, what the hell?"
"Don't worry, Connor," his dad replied. "This is where you belong."
Connor's blood began to boil, and his heart was filled with anger. His parents were turning him in to the Army, for what? His imagination raced with possibilities: some weird experiments, being used as a weapon, or even just being exterminated. He knew he had to escape.
As his heart was racing, he felt his muscles begin to grow tense again. He knew what was coming. A thought raced through his head: maybe, somehow, he could control it. He took a deep breath, and concentrated on what he was feeling.
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