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Huge pre-war speakers bolted on top, megaphones of doom and destruction. Of course, Lauren would not have known if they were announcing the start of an uprising or the latest lottery winners. But the message was expected and simple.'Leave now, go south. Move quickly, taking only what you can carry. The Nationalists are all murderers and won't spare you. If you're male and aged between twenty and forty then stay and defend.'Lauren looked at Emma glumly. It had really happened, just as everyone had warned. They grabbed two suitcases each and packed in silence. Lauren took as much food and drink as she could carry in one suitcase, and clothes in the other. She hid some of her personal treasures high up in her cupboards, half hoping that if the house was ransacked that people would give up before finding her things. Her plan, a slight diversion from that agreed with Gustav and Elizabeth, was to drive as far south as she could, then ditch the car. Given the war, it would be easy to say it. "He's not here."Just as his face curled into another mask of confusion, Russell heard afamiliar voice behind him. "I'm right here dad."Russell gave his wife one last smug 'I knew it' expression and thenturned to his boy.The first thing that popped into his head was 'Jeez! how many hottiesdid that kid bring up here with him?!' Then the red hair, the awkwardstance, and the eyes all came into focus. Ultimately it was his thumbs.Dennis always twittled his thumbs when he was nervous. Russell couldalways tell when the boy was hiding something by the way he twiddled histhumbs.All these personal details came crashing down on Russell's alreadyaddled mind along with the twisted reality he saw before him.The vision before him looked only similar to his son, like a closerelative. Her hair was red - like his mother's, her green eyes large andscared. The dark purple sweater was open just enough to show the massivecleavage nested inside, but not thick enough to hide the largeprotruding nipples.
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