Scott looked into the blue eyes of his son, taking note of the dimples he'd inherited from his mother and the long blond hair in the style popular with kids his age . The oils excreted from he pores of the boy's fingers and palm caused the windshield to appear opaque, thus preventing the child to get a good look at the interior of the car.Not that Brain payed attention to such things. Scott could hear metal protest as the boy grasped the car between his fingers. Who would've guessed a 10 year old boy could have that kind of power. It frighten and fascinated Scott all at the same time.
Scott considered blowing the horn of the Malibu in an attempt to get his son's attention but before he could do such a thing Brian's smiling face fell away and he found himself slipped into the darkened pocket of the boy's jean pants. It had been a rather violent motion and had he not been wearing his seat belt he probably would've crashed face first into the windshield. A moment later he was slammed back and forth from the movement of the huge leg he was against. Brian was on the move, but where?
Scott tried to recall layout of his house and based upon the movement and direction he sensed for certain he and his son were heading down stairs. Where exactly was another story. That he had no clue.
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