All the other kids with the pumped up kicks

You better run, better run, outrun my gun

Part I: Season 4

Chapter 1: Calaveras

The heavy oak front door crashed down, signalling the rest of Sherry's life to do the same. A swarm of stoic men clad in black and khaki hunting gear burst in, parading around her family home like they now owned it. Watching through the not quite opaque draping cotton tablecloth, Sherry felt someone with a clammy, tremorous hand squeeze her own. Her dad crouched behind her, his face pale with fright.

"Come out, you traitors!" a gaunt man bellowed, his voice tinged with a slight Mexican accent. "We know you're in here! If you give up, we might make your death a little less painful!"

Sherry clapped a hand over her mouth, not daring to breathe. Her father trembled, shutting his eyes and muttering a Buddhist prayer under his breath in feverish Cantonese.

The booted footsteps of the men loomed nearer to their hiding spot, the rubber soles or their combat boots squeaking on the polished floor and leaving dirty prints across the glossy wood finish.

The bony man spoke again, a vicious lilt in his barking. "Would you rather die a quick death or have us seal up the house and drop in a gas bomb? I assure you, with the second, you'll be gasping for death for the next several excruciating hours." When nothing happened, the man clucked his tongue and began to count. "Ten. Nine."

"I love you," Sherry whispered. Her father let go of her hand and she blinked. "What?"

He wiped his eyes shakily. "I love you."

"Six. Five."

"I want you to live, okay? All we wanted was for you to be happy. I'll see you again someday." He edged toward the cloth wall.

Sherry shook her head soundlessly. Something wet spattered onto her knees, leaving miniscule dots on her jeans.

"As soon as I'm out," he rushed, "I'll distract them. Run."

"One. Zero."

Sherry wanted to pull her dad back. They would go down together. But he'd already disappeared to the other side of the tablecloth.

"You'll rue the day your wife decided to turn herself in to the police! Restrain him," the bony man commanded with his stentorian voice.

"You're all sick," Sherry's father spat. She could see him struggling and fighting. He swung at his captors in vain, kicking and flailing. He was causing a commotion, she realized. For her. Sherry slipped out the other side of the table cloth and crawled quickly out of the room, hiding behind the corner of the kitchen's wall. Surveying the house around her, she noticed that all first floor doors were barricaded by the khaki-clad ruffians. She gulped and backed away, hyperventilating.

Her forearm rammed into something hard and rounded. The bottom stair. From outside the kitchen, she could hear the squeak of boots get louder.

"Where's the kid?"

"Try under the table!"

She was trapped. Sherry glanced up the staircase and swallowed, then, with a kick of adrenaline, bolted up the stairs, miraculously avoiding slipping and falling. She was at the second floor, safe for the moment, but at a loss as to her next move. Her father's screams had gone silent. She ran into the closest room, where the window overlooked her driveway. The concrete landing below was crowded with waiting black SUV's, as menacing and enigmatic as the men who drove them.

Someone stomped up the stairs, no amount of light treading able to hide the squeak of rubber and the steps' complaint against heavy weight. Sherry yanked open the sliding pane and punched out the window screen. She hopped onto the roof's shingles, gulping, and closed the window behind her. She fixed the screen back into place, partly to cover her tracks and partly because she imagined her mother there, reprimanding her for messing with the dirty panel. Then she turned around, searching the driveway for an open area, and jumped.

The landing onto concrete was excruciating, a paralyzing shock zapping her legs. Sherry winced and propelled herself forward, careening off the driveway and down the street. She didn't stop running.

A/N: Hey guys! If you haven't already figured it out, this is a Liam fanfic 3 Updates may be slow, but I promise the rest of the chapters won't be as short as this one. The arc starts just before 4.5 and will continue until the most recent episodes. PLEASE call me out if you see any errors, continuity issues, poorly written characters, or anything else that may bother you. I won't be offended. As always, remember to vote, comment, and share! The more I receive, the more excited I'll get and the faster I'll update! xx Delaine