EMP Catastrophe , Hamilton, Grace [phonics readers txt] 📗

at the top of the hill with his hands on his knees as if taking a breather. Another man started to gallop down the hill in chase.

“Please, please, please,” Max whispered, but whether he was begging the car to behave or the men to stay away, he couldn’t say. Probably both.

The Isuzu side-swiped another two-seater car hard enough that it began to drift toward the shoulder of the road at an impossible speed. Max grabbed on to the wheel, knowing it was useless, and tried to overcorrect to the right. Nothing happened. The wheel was locked. The Isuzu rammed into another bumper and jolted, skidding closer to the bridge railing. Max felt the top-heavy cab begin to roll. The railing loomed in front of him. He bellowed a wordless shout of terror and thrust his hands over his face as the square front bumper smashed into metal. The sudden collision sent the Isuzu rolling over the side and then Max’s world flipped upside down. Everything moved in slow motion.

He watched the trees turn upside down. His head cracked on something hard. I’m not wearing a seatbelt, he thought woozily, just before he heard a dim, faraway collision and the skidding splash like a rock skipping across the surface of a river. Everything went black.

He came to with a start. Blood ran down his forehead. Wiping it away in a daze, he realized the Isuzu had toppled over the bridge and landed right side up in the river bed. He tasted blood in his mouth. The neon sign in his brain was still flashing. Space. He still needed to get space.

Wrenching open the door, he collapsed in a heap on the riverbank. The water soaked his knees, but luckily, he had landed just off the side of the creek which was full with winter run-off. The laugh that bubbled out of his mouth sounded hysterical. His backpack was miraculously still affixed to his shoulders, and he felt deep bruising in his chest as he staggered to his feet and felt the pack weigh him down. Behind him, the car was smoking as he splashed upriver.

He dove under the bridge, nearly losing his balance and face-planting in the mud. He curled into a ball amid the mud and the yellowing scrubby bushes. The branches scratched at his face. He waited for the world to stop sloshing around him even as he heard cries echo above him. Everything sounded like a smear.

“—dead? Do you see him?”

“Useless piece, killed himself, idiot—”

“—getting that picture—”

He recognized the last voice to be Colin. He lay down flat in response, trying to pull the dead detritus that had fallen from the bushes over himself as some semblance of camouflage. The smell of gasoline filled his nostrils. Small rainbow-slick patches dotted the river and seeped from the crashed car. He saw one man peer over the side just before Max lost a good chunk of time to unconsciousness.

When he woke with his cheek pillowed in the mud, he heard footsteps in the water and saw two men inspecting the riverbank in the opposite direction. He blinked a couple of times and wondered why they were heading…oh. They must have thought he’d jumped into the river and had been washed away downriver with the current. Which, if he’d been in his right mind, would have been a wise choice. He hoped they wouldn’t come back around and search this end of the bank. He didn’t know if he could fight back at this point. His body ached, and his thoughts kept meandering from pointless observations to terrified what-ifs.

He let out a shaky breath as the two men shrugged at each other and clambered back up on top of the bridge. He tried to measure the time, but everything felt somewhat lopsided. All he knew was that at some point, Colin’s search party departed and Max was once again alone. Shivering from cold and shock, he managed to pick himself up and went to inspect the car.

The front bumper was a mass of wires and bent metal. He peered inside, searching for anything of use, but found nothing. For a moment, he considered climbing back into the car and passing out, but if he had a concussion, it would be wise to stay awake for as long as he could. His mind made up, he stumbled back along the bank until he found a suitable place to climb back up near the interstate.

The road lay out in front of him, but where before he saw an easy path to Kathleen’s, now he only saw an open expanse of danger. Easily seen, easily targeted. Still, he didn’t know a better way to get to Galena without taking massive detours. He’d stick to the woods that ran parallel to the road and hope that the sick rolling sensation in his mind would abate.

Space, his mind reminded him. That was what he needed. He needed to put as much distance as he could between himself and Colin’s goons, as fast as possible. With a wince, he began to trot along the road, keeping to the shadows. He was close to Galena. Soon, he’d be back with his sister and his family. Everything would be okay. He could tell Kathleen everything that had happened, and they could laugh about all the stupid things Max had done. Together, they would figure out a way to keep Colin and his men away. She could point out all the things he should have done. He just had to keep going.

Keep going, he told himself, even as darkness began to tunnel his vision. Keep going.

19

By the time Matthew turned away from the property line to return to the hotel, he was in full-scale panic. He’d risen with the sun after a day of rest, rejuvenated, only to quickly discover that his father and Jade had gone missing. He’d checked all the hotel rooms, the kitchen, and the cellar. He even ran out to inspect the fenced property line