I often made horrible life decisions. 

My most ludicrous had been one thousand, three hundred and fifty-five years ago, when I had led my gang of thieves into the woods to steal from a woman; she had been tricking us with gold so she could curse us with immortality. How cowardly—but still somehow so clever—it was to hide her identity as a witch. 

At the moment, I was making one almost as thoughtless. 

I had never once chosen to fight a car, but I woke up today and elected that it may prove a good plan.  

The vehicle was gigantic, three times as large as I was. I aimed my bow at the hood and pulled back the string, but a compartment in the car door opened and blasted a bullet at me, which I just barely dodged.  

“We mustn’t abort!” I yelled over the ruckus that I and the other three thieves were causing during this desperate and valiant fight. “Stand your own ground! Do not let it frighten you!” 

“Aborting sounds really good right now,” squeaked my somewhat-friend Remington, clearly already frightened. He had curly red hair that fell over his eyes, and even more prominently, he was absurdly plump. One may look at him and think he got lip filler everywhere in his body. I was quite sure he had gotten more obese since we first met. 

Taryn scoffed from where she was using her sword to slice apart the hind region of the car, ignoring the mortified screeches of the woman inside, which could be comparable to women in zombie movies, as it was almost comical. “You think we may need to get more caught up with the times?” 

“Silence yourself,” I told her irritably. 

“’Silence yourself,’” she repeated mockingly. “You’re so far behind.” 

I narrowed my eyes. “You and I come from the same era.”

“Can we focus?” my sister, Flavia, pleaded from behind us. 

As if on a cue schedule, the woman inside the car got out, holding a miniature hand rifle which she pointed at us. Her white teeth were fully bare, like a lion sizing up its prey. 

“Blast it,” I attempted to yell out, though it sounded more like a grumble. “Abort!” 

“For the love of...” Taryn began, but she still darted with the others and I as we began to run. 

We quickly entered the shade of the trees, and the only thing that broke the eerie feeling was the sun gleaming through their branches. We ran for a while, but when the dust we kicked up from the dirt under us began to make us react as if attacked by allergens, we slowed. The sudden cold gnawed on my bones, and I wrapped my arms around myself, glancing where Flavia was wearing a sleeveless shirt and looking ill at ease. Occasionally, she impressed me with her warm-bloodedness. As she saw me looking, she melodramatically began to fan her face as if it was burning hot outside. I rolled my eyes and looked away. 

It was very difficult to stay caught up with modern robbing methods when you had been alive for fifteen centuries. I was born in 1701, and now it was 3084. One could argue that it was merely thirteen and a half centuries, but when you are immortal, you tend to round up.