Maisie and Farley narrowly escaped death when a truck barrelled towards them. Bloodied, bruised, and battered, they were a sorry sight.
Farley had been sprawled on the ground, feigning sleep in a moment of foolhardy defiance. By the time he realized the gravity of the situation, it was too late. Paralyzed by fear, he couldn't muster the strength to stand, let alone run. All he could do was watch in horror as the truck's grill charged towards him.
"Mom!" His scream was a visceral cry of terror.
He had braced himself for the end. But, miraculously, at the last moment, the truck swerved, veering off its deadly course.
Stunned into silence, Farley sat frozen on the spot, only to realize later, much to his mortification, that he had wet himself.
The truck, having changed its course, charged towards Maisie. Instinctively, she sprinted for her life, zigzagging like a rabbit escaping a fox. The truck appeared to be toying with her, not quite aiming to kill but definitely not letting her off easy either.
Exhausted, driven by sheer survival instinct, Maisie kept moving until she slammed into a tree. The impact left her face bloody, her body limp on the ground.
The driver, his sick game seemingly over, drove away, leaving silence in his wake.
"Mom... Mom, are you okay?" Farley, scrambling to his feet, was the very picture of distress.
Maisie lay motionless, a gash on her forehead bleeding profusely. In his panic, Farley attempted to cover the wound with his hands, unintentionally smearing it with urine.
"Mom! Wake up, please!"
After countless shouts and shakes, Maisie's eyes finally fluttered open. "What...what happened?" She was visibly shaken, her body trembling, teeth chattering from shock and fear.
"We need to go," she said, gripping Farley's hand with a desperation that belied her fear. "Now. Before he comes back."
"But why?"
"Do you want to wait around for him to kill us?!"
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