Nowhere to Run

We were coming back from visiting yet another one of our many family members. I was in the car with my uncle, his new wife, my cousin, and my sister. It was already dark and the weather had started to drop. My little sister was making us all laugh, rhyming adjectives that described her. All of a sudden, my uncle stopped the car and we were pushed forward in our seats. There was a loud thud as we saw a man roll over the hood of the car. Not even a few seconds later, three other men were running past our car. There was a traffic jam ahead of us and nowhere to go. My uncle yelled at us to get down on the floor… to hide. We saw the police car lights arrive and I heard my uncle let go a sigh of relief. They, too, hurried past our car. We heard gunshots ahead of us and I felt my cousin jump next to me. I put my arm around her and as I did I saw that there was someone at the window. Someone telling us to be quiet. Someone holding a gun. Someone laughing. I nudged my uncle’s wife to turn around. But when she did, it was too late. He was gone.