THE THREE GIRLS WERE LAUGHING when they rode their bikes uphill. It was the same race, which they had every day on that stretch of the road when they returned home after school — Laura Jensen had always allowed either one of them to win and wanted no glory by beating them. She was after all the champion in the school swimming team — and these were her two best friends and her biggest supporters.

The three of them were also known as 'The Farmers' Sisters' — and were often ribbed by many at school — but, it was no use feeling angry or ashamed about it, because their fathers were indeed simple agrarians — working daily on their bucolic cornfields outside Wellsville, Utah.

Connie Pearlman and Haley Eastman were riding neck to neck ahead. They passed by fields of swaying corn on both sides in the afternoon breeze. Laura was tagging behind closely — and she was sure Haley, the leader of 'The Farmers' Sisters' would beat them both as always.

Coming also from behind was a battered yellow, school bus that had younger children aboard, returning home to their farms after school. The nine-year-old Roberta was sitting in that bus, looking bored, chewing bits of paper and spitting on the hair of two sleeping girls in the front seat. All of a sudden, a boy came from behind — and yanked her ponytail. She stood up at once, and she immediately kicked him in the guts.

She hated the ponytail she had, and wanted it to be cut off — so that she could be more like the other boys — but, her mother refused as she wanted her to be feminine like her older sister Laura Jensen.

Still angry, Roberta was about to punch the fallen boy's head again — then he cried out. "Robbie, wait! I saw Laura outside..."

Roberta peered out of the bus window and saw the group of twelve-year-old racing ahead on their mountain bikes. A wicked smile shaped on her face. She took out a couple of pebbles from her pocket. She bit on one in between her teeth and loaded the other on her catapult. The bus rode pass the cycling older girls, Roberta propelled and slung the stones, to hit them twice...

She particularly hated her sister's friend, Haley Eastman — who often teased her and sometimes pinched her nipple through her blouse saying, that she would grow bosoms like a woman someday, even though Roberta wanted to remain a hoyden.

The slingshots missed, but yet the spiteful tomboy still felt victorious, and she sneered back at her sister instead — yelling out from the transporting bus's window...

"I am going to reach home before you, Laura!"

The two sisters were totally different. Roberta had rivalled Laura all the years growing up together. This was because Laura was her mother's favourite — as for her father — he was too busy working out there on his farm. Indeed, too occupied to pay attention to any of his children at home.

Roberta had always wanted to be the boy in the family — but, even that role was taken away when her twin brothers were born, two years ago...

Today, she played her duty as the 'big brother' to the toddlers.

Haley Eastman laughed and yelled back, teasing Roberta that she missed hitting them. The bus overtook, accelerated uphill, blowing out black exhaust smoke. The three girls noticed the poster at the back of the bus, of the waving Senator Walter Rosewood from New York, who had recently won the presidential election.

*

The three girls were still laughing on an innocuous conversation about the boys in their class while riding home through on a short cut. Laura was the quiet one among them and was even more subservient at home. She relished listening to their conversation, and the bantering between Connie and Haley.

Although, when occasionally asked for her opinion, Laura would either stump them with her very over-analytical point of view, or it would be something that would really be off the tangent, thus, leading both her friends to tease her for being a daydreamer — or a mermaid princess living in her own world, at the bed of the swimming pool.

They finally reached a forked road, Connie Pearlman and Haley Eastman waved goodbye to Laura, who had to take the other path home.

Laura rode alone — and she gazed up at the tall trees on both sides of the serene path. It was a cooling stretch of shade to an itinerant, and she usually slowed down and immersed in the afternoon tranquillity with the surrounding sounds of the critters...

While she was enjoying the halcyon, her eyes fell on a baby Robin, which was flipping on its back on the path ahead, and two adult birds flew away when her bicycle approached. She quickly stopped and picked up the tiny chordate and peered up at its swivel parents, which whizzed from one high perch branch to the next. Laura wanted to leave the baby bird under the tree — but, she was instantaneously distracted by the screeching sounds that happened all of a sudden — with hundreds of birds in distress...

She looked back and saw flocks of birds of different species, flying towards her direction in mass departure. They were soaring just over her head, sensing an imminent danger and wanted to flee from the forest path...

'What was freaking them!!? Was there a predator nearby!!?'

She then heard it too — a roaring distinct sound coming from behind her...

Laura glanced over her shoulder to see the path behind was getting darker. She placed the baby bird into her breast pocket. Laura began to peddle to evacuate fast like the trepidation of the exodus of birds fleeing in front. The bumpy path made it rugged — peeking occasionally over her shoulder with her wide probing eyes while she peddled...

Her mind was also screaming out that something was not right...

The trail got darker as she cycled on the uneven route. Laura slowed down to glance fleetingly over her shoulder again, her searching eyes flared when the thundering sound kept getting even louder. Her senses guarded, repeating in her mind that something iniquitous was nearing fast...

Her peddling then picked up speed again...

The volume of the vociferating fathom with its gigantic and murky shadow crept up rapidly from behind her. Laura's panting was in timing even while being affright — her legs were in a hard kicking motion, just like how she competed in the swimming pool in getting ahead to the finish line.

Laura raced away from the ear-splitting strident noise...

A terrified deer raced ahead of her on the dusty trail. Smaller shrubs were uprooted and cart-wheeled, almost grazing her. She wanted to scream in fear — but, she just could not submit...

She looked down at her own trembling hands on the vibrating bike's handlebar — before her bicycle was lifted off from the ground — both of her feet lost control — Laura spun in midair like a ragdoll before she was violently thrown into a nearby ditch...

She was flat on her back when she saw the metallic mammoth shape, deserting from above her — majestically roaring while passing above the furiously shaking trees. A dark storm of dust, frond and branches followed it — and buried Laura — who had closed her eyes, and finally screamed back at the enraged ear-splitting noise from above...

The Air-Tran Airways Boeing flew below the radar, right above the swaying tall trees tops — leaving a long snaking tail of yellow smoke.

When she revived, the shadow had left — the skies were back clear again, suffusing the afternoon sun — the only distinct sound her buzzing ears heard was of the far away Boeing — ascending back to altitude. Laura was covered with dirt and was bleeding from scrapes and cuts. She staggered to stand up in the muddy ditch, catching relief breaths while she was climbing herself out.

She peered around at the aftermath trail of broken branches on the dirt road. Her mountain-bike was on top of some shrubs, with the front wheel mangled. She looked up...

Laura was mesmerized a moment by the silhouettes of the murmuration patterns flight of some species' of the fleeing birds in the skies. Her eyes widened again, with another set of sounds coming from above — but, they were less ominous...

She cupped her hand over her eyes, squinting towards the sun among the shattered treetops — three Army fighter jets were in hot pursuit, following the aerial trail of yellow smoke.