Unbeknown to Gloria and Michelle, in another part of the city a large group of armed people were gathering at a private warehouse. How do I know? I have it written in my notes, which at present are scattered all over the backseat of a car I didn't know existed until 25 minutes ago. Gathering them I racked my brain for the details of the story I was writing. Who were the antagonists? Where were they? Why was there conflict? And what on earth was in that box? The more I thought on these questions the further we travelled through the city, and I realized with every passing streetlight the more I didn't know and the less I could remember. I turned from staring out the window to speak to the girls in front, "Where are we again?"

Gloria turned her piercing green eyes and looked funny at me, "You of all people should know where we are. Considering you are the conspirator of our lives."

"Honest I don't! Can you please just tell me."

"Well the thing is..." she sighed, "We don't know either. Only you know."

"HUH!" My eyes bulged and I slapped my forehead with my hand. "Are you literally kidding me! I am never sleeping in on my writing ."

"Hey, don't be hard on yourself. We all forget sometimes. You'll remember by and by just like penguins." Michelle chuckles.

"Penguins?" Gloria and I question. Confusion smacked across our faces.

"Yeah, penguins. They like don't know how to raise young and then they remember how their parents did it and ta-da they know again." The way she speaks so confidently about a topic she knows nothing about amuses me.

Gloria bonks her in the head. "You idiot. That's not how it works."

"OW! And can you please not do that while I'm driving its enough work to try and see with all your chatter going on."

I smile and as their chatter goes on, I drive my attention back to sorting my notes. Finding my scribbles much harder to decipher in the light of day I become totally absorbed. Finding few helpful clues and points I glance upward at the now silent duo. Thankful for the peace I look left to the world speeding past my window and my eyes grow round with fright.

"Gloria," I whisper, "is that the same..."

She glances to the side then reaches for something asking me almost immediately, "Are you any good at throwing things?"

"Um. I was an ok shot at school." Wondering what she's thinking of I tremble.

"Mitch make sure you're listening." Michelle nods in affirmation.

Handing me a cold metal object she instructs, "Mitch will open your window. When she does pull the pin, count to three and throw it in front of that car. They are a little behind us so it should hit them on target. Oh and it's a grenade in case you're wondering."

"You don't expect me to throw this do you? Why don't you do it?"

"Can't. They know my face. You're gonna have to do it." Her voice hardens as she speaks.

By the look in her eyes there is no other option. Taking a big gulp I look at the grenade peacefully resting in my palms and mentally prepare myself for the most dangerous thing I've ever done in my life.

It was too short a time before a blast of air pounds me. The window yawning open to the force of the wind causing my notes to take flight. Flashes of white and the sharp edges of paper attack me as I struggle to unpin the grenade and my hands become waterfalls as I count those dreadful 3 seconds. Throwing it out the window like a bad taste I am almost instantly greeted by a resounding boom as the car surges forward. I press the button to close the window with a shaking hand. Looking in the rear view mirror I see the smoke from the explosion, the car swerving into the road barriers, and half my notes flying about the wreckage like seagulls at a picnic.

"My notes" I cry in desperation as I realise my loss.

"Well done," complements Gloria.

"LEFT OR RIGHT," screams the driver.