Prompt-

"Shit, we're gonna die, we're gonna d-"

"Hey! Don't be so pessimistic! That kind of negativity isn't getting us anywhere."

"Yay, we're gonna die! I'm so excited!"

This is a sequel oneshot to my first part, Broken and Scarred. If you haven't read that part yet, go read it right now!

Yasmine knew it was all wrong the minute she saw the car the next lane over. Her dad had been driving her to soccer practice. The car on their right had drove up slightly behind them, getting out from a 7/11 parking lot. Yasmine noticed the unnatural behavior in the car right away.

She was only eleven, but never forgot the procedures to follow if you thought someone in a car might be following you. She sat in the backseat, looking out of the left window. She tried to look calm as she craned her neck to stare at their pursuers.

They rode in a black car, a thick layer of dust had collected on the paint. The car seemed to be some kind of compact Honda, and the windows were tinted way too dark, they could easily get fined for that, Yasmine knew.

The driver drove with a passenger, both looked like they were in their mid-twenties and wore faded black t-shirts. The driver drove with one hand only, the other was pointed at the car Yasmine rode in.

The passenger glanced at the license plate on the back of their car. Yasmine already had her dad's license plate memorized, she knew if they were looking for her family—for any reason—the license would be easy to recognize.

CC54334

Yasmine panicked when she saw what the man in the passenger seat had in his hands.

A shot gun. A real, operational, shot gun. She spent no time waiting.

"Hey, Dad, we still have fifteen minutes until soccer practice starts, can we drive by the park for a little bit?"

Her dad seemed to think it was odd for Yasmine not to show up to soccer practice early, but changed lanes and took a right down a busy street.

The black car beside them changed lanes for a minute, following in pursuit and making the same turn before merging into the lane beside them, once again. Yasmine bit her lip, as her dad continued to make turns and the pursuers continued to follow.

They arrived at the park, and her dad slowed the car and began to drive through the path made for cars. The black car entered the park as well, and Yasmine imagined they must have been annoyed, as there was only one lane for them to drive in.

Soon, ten out of the fifteen minutes had passed and her dad pulled out of the park, heading back in the direction of the soccer field. For a minute, Yasmine lost sight of the black car, until they drove up right next to their car and lined up.

Yasmine knew at this moment she might not see her family again. Her friends. Her sister, Lillian.

"Baba-" The black car swerved and slammed violently into their car, a terrible screeching noise began. Yasmine screamed as her head flew forward, banging into the back of her dad's car seat.

There was a terrible pain in her neck, probably from whiplash, she supposed. Then the glass came. The windows shattered, shards of them flew at Yasmine and her father, cutting and slicing their skin.

Pedestrians screamed and yelled, jumping out of the way. She saw one furiously talking on their phone, calling 911, Yasmine hoped.

She lay there in broken shards of glass, the pool of her own blood slowly increasing. She counted the seconds until help arrived. She counted ninety-seven before she couldn't count anymore.

First, the fire department showed up, running around and clearing the debris furiously. Then the paramedics showed up. After the fire department cleared the way for them, the paramedics lined two stretchers next to the broken car.

They tried to remove some glass pieces from the pair, but most were unsuccessful. Yasmine wasn't sure when, but the police had showed up, and were lining the scene with yellow caution tape and orange cones. Some pedestrians were being rapidly asked questions about the scene, while others tried to flee from the scene.

Yasmine and her father were loaded into the back of separate ambulances. She could hear the muffled voices of the nurses, furiously conversing.

"Girl... awake? Pulse is... scarce." The voices were warped, like a malfunctioning speaker.

"...is her father?" Yasmine saw one of the nurses nearby nod. "He... not make it."

Her father? He wouldn't make it? That meant, Yasmine wouldn't make it either, right? A high pitched beeping noise awoke her from her trance, but only for a moment until the pitch black, shuddering darkness overcame her.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

"Morning, Ms. Yasmine," Paul called as she passed by his cubical. "Good morning, Paul, where's the coffee from this morning?" He chuckled and held his coffee cup, showing the DD labeled on it, "Dunkin D's, didn't have time to stop at 'Donalds this morning."

Yasmine waved a goodbye and continued farther down the hall until she came to a stop outside a large, glass cubical. She knocked, straightening her files and plastering a smile on her face.

Her boss, Jenna, replied from inside, "Come in, Yasmine!" Yasmine had been an intern at a recently founded organization; Preservers of American Civilization by Defense, or, as everyone else called it, PACD.

Ever since Yasmine had woken up in a hospital, nine days after the crash, she had been told, her mother and father dead, her sister now in foster care. She begged them to tell her where Lillian was, where they could possibly have her stuck alone, wondering what happened to her sister at some foster care place.

But they never did. She was alone, an orphan without a sister to protect her. Yasmine tried to explain to them, she was an orphan too, right? So that meant if she was under the age of eighteen—which she was—she would have to be assigned a foster family as well. Why not make it easier and put them together?

She had heard some time later, her sister had ran away from her second foster family, and this time, bizarrely, could not find her. Yasmine tried convincing them, it was obvious Lillian needed her! Wasn't it? Apparently not.

But she knew her sister. She wouldn't run away without a plan. She ran through the scenarios her and Lillian had done up until a few months ago.

What would you do if you were lost?
Ask somebody to call mom or dad.

She scratched that one off the list.

If you had to survive on your own, would it be alone or with people? If you chose with people, how many?
I want to survive with people, I think one or two.

Yasmine toke careful note of that in her head.

What would be your first action if we got separated?
Try to find you, again!

That plan probably wouldn't work by now. If Lillian knew Yasmine was in critical care, how would she know which hospital she was kept in? If she even knew she wasn't dead. Did she know?

There were just too many questions. Yasmine couldn't stay like this, with no idea where her sister was, and those killers who murdered her father and almost herself, still out there. She wasn't sure how, just knew she would.

That's when she found PACD. Well, not exactly, that happened years after the crash, almost ten years later. Yasmine had been working to gain information on the terrorist group for about nine years, since she was let out of the hospital when she was eleven.

Three months before Yasmine turned twenty-one, and after conducting some research, she applied for the organization. They were fighting for the same cause she was, after seeing the power of these terrorists.

She sent in an application and awaited a reply. Now, five months later she had been working at PACD for seventy-three days total, as an intern for one of the high up members—Jenna Kelly.

Jenna wasn't the founder of PACD, but one of the original members. The founder, Michelle Qiao, started the group after spending hours on end researching this terrorist group. When she found out just how horrible they were, she decided to organize a group who would fight back, a group who could defend the country.

"Anything on movement today?" Yasmine questioned Jenna. They hadn't heard or seen anything from the rebels other since a riot started by them happened since mid-June. They'd been oddly quiet and they were getting worried they were planning something. Something big.

It was now August, coming up on September, and PACD hadn't heard or seen a thing since that last attack in June.

Jenna shook her head, "Nope, we even sent out the undercover agents to seek any information. Still nothing." Yasmine sighed, disappointed, but she knew that wouldn't change unless the terrorists planned on moving themselves.

She worked on paperwork and some coding on a new website that day, just as uneventful as the others. When six o' clock struck, Yasmine packed her things and exited the building to her car.

The ride home in her tall, white jeep was just as boring as her work day, and she couldn't help but dwell on the fact that they weren't making any progress over the terrorist group.

Her house keys jangled as she inserted the key into her front door, and she was greeted by the sound of soft running on the hard wood floors.

"Hey, Bibi," she said in a gentle voice, stroking the puppy's silky fur. Bibi had white, groomed fur, the color of vanilla ice cream. Yasmine had originally named her Beatrice, but the both of them preferred the nickname Bibi.

She had adopted her because of her nightmares and anxiety attacks, she could help her calm down, and she didn't mind having an extra cute puppy in the house, anyways.

After Yasmine had turned eighteen, she had lived in an apartment about an hour away from times square. When she turned twenty, and had saved enough money, she had bought a small, but cozy house about two blocks and a half from her old apartment.

She enjoyed being able to sit outside in the evenings, when she couldn't focus, or taking a seat by one of the large windows on the nights she couldn't will herself to go to sleep. She had planted some dahlias around the fence perimeter when she moved in, her mother's favorite flowers.

Yasmine quickly cooked up some dinner, instant noodles, she always had a large stock. She filled Bibi's small, metal bowl with 'Puppy Chows', and took a seat on the leather coat, turning the television on.

She never really paid much attention to the news in the evening unless it was for work, so she almost switched the channel until she read the headline.

'Gang of criminals spotted on main roads of Times Square, police say to lock doors and stay inside.'

There they were. The murderers who killed her father. This could be a lead for PACD, they hadn't seen or heard anything about these killers in over three months! If they could gain information on them or even possibly get the chance to question one of the existing members?

This could be a breakthrough for them! And if Yasmine acted quick enough, could possibly get her promoted! Not that it was the only thing that mattered—but it wouldn't hurt to get a raise.

She rushed up the stairs, leaving her steaming dinner on the kitchen counter. Bibi followed in her steps, hopping up the stairs as fast as her small paws would carry her.

Yasmine changed into black leggings and a maroon hoodie, the darkest color she could currently find. She threw up a quick ponytail, (things could get rough), and hastily flung on her shoes.

She grabbed the keys on the way out, completely forgetting about the ramen on marble counter, wasting away. On the way out, Bibi tried to trail Yasmine out of the door, but she blocked Bibi's way to freedom.

"Sorry, Bibi, you can't come with me this time, princess." Bibi nudged her foot with her small head, watching the cars outside pass by, an amused look in her eyes.

She gently picked Bibi up and walked over in the corner where her bed sat, surrounded by white baby fencing to keep her from leaving the area. Yasmine stepped back from the gate after placing Bibi on her large bed, far larger than a puppy should need. Around the bed, there was at least four feet of room at all angles for her to move around.

"You're so spoiled," she chided, grooming the puppy once more before gathering her things and leaving out the door. She closed the door behind her, and climbed into the car. She turned the radio on once she was in the car, in case there was something about the terrorist group they were currently facing.

She drove through the crazed streets of New York City, hoping the group wouldn't be gone by the time she got to Times Square. There was a fair chance they had left the area after their location was exposed, but Yasmine would have to rely on the hope they were still in the area for now.

After forty-five minutes driving on top speeds, Yasmine arrived at PACD. On the way over, she had decided it would be better to stop in at PACD and check in to see their plan—she was hoping they had one.

She rushed in, scanning her badge on the way through the large glass doors, almost the sixty people were gathered in the large, main room.

"Yasmine! I wasn't sure if you were coming," Jenna exclaimed. "Yeah, well I left my dinner for this, do we have a plan?" she responded. The high up members made eye contact with each other.

"Somewhat, yes," one of the members replied, Don, she remembered. Yasmine's brows furrowed. "Somewhat?" He winced and explained as best he could.

"We have created a plan, we're just not exactly sure how to execute it, yet." Soft murmurs filled the room, people started to panic. She knew she was just an intern, she couldn't just order around the founders of PACD, but she, no, they, needed this information.

"Well, then. Let's hear this plan," Yasmine demanded, hoping she didn't sound too bossy.

"Alright," Jenna started, "we're going to need some volunteers."

Yasmine kept her eyes fixed on the road, while Lani's eyes scouted the road for any signs of violence or destruction. It had been almost an hour and a half since the terrorists were reported on live stream television, but there was still no sign what so ever about where they could have went.

Finally, they rounded a corner where a mass group of police, a SWAT team, and New York passerby were huddled together. There were at least fifty soldiers in dark black cloaks, some fleeing from the scene, others being arrested and pushed into cop cars.

Her and Lani parked the white jeep across the street and walked over, pushing through the cameras and mass of people, making their way to the front. There was a large amount of damage to some neighboring stores, but nothing that didn't look like it couldn't be fixed easily.

There was a small group of three, looking to be around the age of sixteen or seventeen. They were being questioned by a policewoman. That's when she realized, were they the ones fighting against the terrorist group?

They were a bunch of kids! One dark haired boy, who seemed to be around the height of six two. One of the two girls had dark brown curls, and chocolate skin. The last had straight cut, waist length, jet black hair and deeply tanned skin. Her tall, slender stature and deep, umber-brown eyes showed immense resemblance to Yasmine.

The girl looked terrified, and although she didn't show it, Yasmine could tell something similar to this had happened before to her. She looked so different Yasmine almost didn't recognize her. But how could she not recognize her own sister?

A gasp escaped her lips as their eerily similar eyes met, and Yasmine covered her mouth with her hand. Before she knew what she was doing, she pushed farther through the crowd, ignoring Lani's yells of protest.

She broke into a run once she had escaped the stuffiness of the large crowd, and officials started to yell, telling her she wasn't authorized to be in this area. She ignored their shouts and threats they called out to her, but didn't stop until she reached where the police officer and the three kids stood.

All four turned to stare at her, and Lillian's face was pale and her jaw was about on the floor by now. The boy and other girls' expressions turned, and they looked like they knew her, somehow. The police officer ruined the moment, though.

"Excuse me, Miss, I don't believe you are qualified to be in this area," she assumed, "You are not part of our forces, and unless you are the guardian of these children, we will need to escort you out."

Yasmine shook out her hands, and dug in her hoodie pocket, fishing out her ID. "Actually, I am the guardian of these children, ma'am." She wasn't lying, since Yasmine was twenty, soon to be twenty one, she was the legal guardian of Lillian, and these were her close friends by the look of it, so that meant she could be the guardian of them, too, right?

She hoped so.

"May I take a look at this?" the cop asked. Yasmine nodded, handing the ID to the woman. She walked over to a group of other officers, consisting of three regular police officers and two SWAT officers. They inspected the ID, and took a look at what she supposed were records.

While the officials looked over her ID, the silence from the group of four could've filled the space between them. Lillian still looked ghastly pale, and Yasmine was sure she wasn't far off. The boy kept staring at her that it became slightly creepy, and the curly haired girl kept shooting nervous glances at her every few seconds.

"Alright, looks like all the files are in check, you are free to take them home with you," the officer announced, handing her back the ID. She was shocked they could just send them home with her like that, but she knew they had taken a close look at her records overall.

Yasmine nodded, but wasn't exactly sure what to say. So they all just stood there, watching each other for several seconds before she finally spoke.

"Come on." Her voice was no more than a whisper, but they had heard it. Yasmine started to walk out of the scene, and eventually the kids followed in pursuit. People watched them from the crowd that had thinned slightly, as they pushed through. Lani was standing on the far side of it, now, her eyes wide and fixed on the three trailing Yasmine.

She walked up to Lani, not stopping and grabbed her by the arm, leading her and the group behind across the street to their car. Yasmine opened the door to the front seat, and stepped in. She hadn't really thought this through, what she would say to Lillian, how she would explain it.

Lani took the passenger seat, leaving the others to sit in the back. Lillian took the seat behind Yasmine, slamming the door and buckling her seat belt with much more force than needed. The back right door was still open, the two still stood outside. The girl looked up at the boy expectantly, but he just raised an eyebrow and motioned for her to get in the middle.

Once the seats were figured out, they were off and onto the road, headed in the direction of PACD. They would drop Lani off there, and then the four of them would head home. There wasn't much talking going on in the quiet car, more like no talking. Until Lani broke the silence.

"So," she started, chuckling awkwardly, "I'm Lani, nice to meet you." The only thing that followed was silence. The girl with the curly hair responded.

"I'm Lyna, this is Lucas," she pointed to the boy who looked up with a bored face, "and this is..." She trailed off. "Well, I guess you already know who this is." The silence picked up again, and this time Yasmine turned the radio on, trying to clear the awkward feel before it was just Yasmine, Lyna, Lucas, and Lillian in one compact car together.

After a little while, she pulled into the parking lot, filled with many more cars than usual, no doubt because of the large fight this evening. She parked the car in one of the front spots, and Lani unbuckled her seat belt.

She turned slightly backwards, turning to look at the three kids in the back. "Okay, this is my stop," she paused for a moment and shifted her body to look at Yasmine. "Good luck." She opened the door, grabbing her bag on the way out before closing it behind her, and waved good bye as she flung open the doors to PACD, leaving the silence in the car to endure.

They all sat uncomfortably for what Yasmine counted for one hundred and twenty seven seconds before Yasmine realized she should probably talk.

"Okay, um," she stumbled on her words, with no clue what to say, "this is the Preserves of American Civilization by Defense, or PACD for short." They were quiet in the back, but she could see them nodding. "Uh, so, we're going to my house tonight, it's small but we should be fine."

"You have a house?" Lillian interjected before she realized she had spoken. She quickly muted herself and continued to gaze out the window. Yasmine smiled, "Yeah, once I turned eighteen, I lived in an apartment for a while, but once I turned twenty I bought a house."

Lyna nodded and smiled, Yasmine was starting to like the girl the best, after Lillian, of course. Silently, she put the car in reverse, and pulled out of the spot. The radio was the only thing keeping the car from entering a miserable quiet, for the hour long drive home.

They turned down Yasmine's street, pulling into the narrow driveway. As they exited the car, she noticed the others' reactions were different than she had imagined. Lucas stared at the picture overall, she could tell he wouldn't mind if this was his house, not hers. Lyna's eyes had awe and admiration in them, but she could tell it wasn't because it looked expensive, even though it was not.

"Wow, the architechture on the roofing and windows? And the landscaping..." She trailed off, her eyes darted around every little detail of the house. She kept muttering things to herself, things that nobody else could catch onto.

But, the awe and respect for the house wasn't for everyone. Lillian's eyes wandered anywhere but the house. Yasmine understood, though. While Lillian was out on the run, she supposed, Yasmine had been living in a real home, almost like she replaced the one they had lived in together.

Yasmine hurried on to open the door, turning the key and leading them inside. They walked in, and were greeted by the sound of loud barks. They weren't happy barks, though, no, not at all. She knew Bibi's bark, and while the others were surprised there even was something barking, Yasmine was worried why there was barking.

Bibi never really was a loud dog, just a very clingy one. She quieted the people behind her, as they looked confused why she was so jumpy. She pushed through the door, and was shocked to find the large fenced in area for Bibi empty.

There was a sudden sound of shoes on tile behind the group, and they whipped around, greeted by the sight of a dark, cloaked figure holding Bibi in their cruel, bloody arms. Lucas, Lyna and Lillian drew daggers and knives from their pockets, while Yasmine was left to watch Bibi's silenced barks turn into whimpers, gradually.

The figure was by far out numbered, but they had seen what these people could do, how much power even just one member held. The scariest thing wasn't even that they now knew where Yasmine lived. It was that they now knew how to hurt and take everything she loved away from her.

She wasn't sure what exactly happened during these next few seconds. There was lots od barking and tons of yells and shouts. She supposed Bibi had bitten the one who had held her captive.

Cliché.

Maybe it was cliché because that's how all dogs responded to situations like that. Who knew movies were accuarate? The cloaked figure dropped Bibi, who tumbled to the ground, but quickly recovered and ran as fast as her stubby legs would take her out to the backyard.

"Shit, we're gonna die, we're gonna d-" Lillian started to murmur under her breath. "Hey! Don't be so pessimistic! That kind of negativity isn't getting us anywhere." Yasmine responded. Lillian looked her in the eye before firing back. "Yay, we're gonna die! I'm so excited!" Yasmine rolled her eyes but readied herself.

Lucas dodged the sofa separating them and the figure, and then procedded to attack them. Lyna found cover behind the kitchen island, pulling a gun out of nowhere and lining up a shot. Lillian hurdled the sofa, arming herself with a sleek dagger and got into a fighting position.

Two minutes ago, these kids were sitting her complimenting her house, now the were straight up destroying it. Wow. They were lucky if they could spend one night without ripping the entire house from it's seam!

Yasmine felt ultimently helpless in this situation. She had three kids almost four years younger than her fighting against a member of a terrorist group, and she was just standing there, watching. Real mature of yourself, Yasmine, she scolded herself. She grabbed the nearest object, that happened to be the television remote.

She chucked it at their head, surprised when they yelped in pain, holding the forehead where the remote had hit. She continued the strategy for what seemed like at least an hour, but the digital clock that sat on her wrist said it was much less.

The figure darted past Lucas and Lillian, towards the kitchen counter. Yasmine feared they were tired and worn out from dodging the constant bullets fired from Lyna in the corner. She was worried they would try to stop it.

And they did. Lillian's eyes went as wide as saucers, and Lucas's mouth hung open. Lillian didn't waste time staring, and took action. Lyna's determined face filled with fear, but she quickly cleared it out.

She jumped up from her covering place, and sprinted through the kitchen, but she made a mistake of running near where all the dishes and silverware were drying on a rack. The intruder took this opportunity and grabbed a large dinner plate as they flew by, positioning it in their hand.

Lyna ran while Lillian followed close by, her dagger drawn, but the cloaked figure was quicker and nimbler. They charged her full speed, although Yasmine would give her credit.

She didn't scream.

She didn't flinch.

She barely moved as the cruel terrorist cracked the hard glass plate over her head, glass shards scattered all over her beautiful body. The shards struck and scarred her smooth skin, cutting into her arms and drawing blood all around.

The dark, cloaked figure fled from the scene, breaking a window to get out, even though the door was already open, and jumped the fence, fleeing into the starry night sky.

It wasn't two seconds later, Lyna groaned in pain and collapsed to the floor. Her panting came to a halt, as did her breathing for a moment before quickly resuming. Lillian and Lucas ran to her side, speaking small things to try and keep her awake. She never answered. Yasmine frantically called 911 before dialing PACD, for they feared the young girl wouldn't wake up.