Page 47 of Magic's Rise

Levi tosses the flat into the back, and we load up our bags.

All in all, the incident only delays us for fifteen minutes. It’s disturbing, but as Haut said, more of a nuisance than a hindrance.

Cautious of the spare, Haut drives slowly toward the freeway and pulls over at the first brightly lit gas station we come across.

He stops in front of a pump. “Might as well top off while we’re here.”

“I’ll fill the tire.” Levi hops out of the passenger seat. “If they don’t sell valves, we can use the one on the spare.”

Haut twists to stare at me and Tris. “Promise to behave, and you can go get snacks from the convenience store.”

Bouncing in place, I hold up three fingers. “Promise!”

Tris mirrors my pose, and we’re released back into the wild.

“Try to buy something healthy,” Aspen calls after us.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Tris shoots back before we disappear inside.

We pause at the entrance, figuring out the layout.

“I’ll take candy and chips.” Tris points to the left, then swings his arm to the right. “You grab drinks and pastries.”

“Aye, aye, captain!” I salute, and we separate.

On my way through the aisles, I check out the pastry case, trying to decide if they’re super fresh or very stale. Then a flashing sign at the back catches my eye, a glimmering beacon of sugary joy.

A slushie machine.

Excited, I look for Tris, but he’s nowhere in sight, probably off making important decisions between cheese puffs and potato chips.

Good thing I know what he likes. I am such a good BFF, eternal spark, and bonded life partner.

When I grab the extra-large cup, my fingers don’t meet, even using both hands. Bucket O’Sugar, here we come.

I place it under the spout for cola, filling the bottom, followed by a generous layer of blue raspberry.

As I nudge the cup toward the piña colada, a prickling sensation creeps up the back of my neck, like someone’s watching me. When I glance around, though, there’s nobody in sight.

Must be the pool and tire incidents making me twitchy.

Tris’s voice drifts from near the front. “Rowe, do you want sour worms or lemon drops?”

“Worms.” I pull the lever for the coconut and pineapple concoction. “Grab some peanuts for Aspen.”

“The candy-covered ones, right?” Tris laughs at his own joke. “I’ll get beef jerky for the carnivores.”

That prickling sensation intensifies, the fine hairs on the back of my neck rising. I look around again, and movement in the security mirror above the slushie machine catches my attention.

The convex surface reflects the store in warped miniature, and I spot a man slinking toward me from one of the side aisles. He crouches as he walks, setting off my alarm bells. He obviously doesn’t want to be seen, and while his hands are hidden from view, it looks like he’s holding something.

My pulse quickens, the urge to flee pounding through me, but my body remains frozen in fear. Time slows, then speeds up in a rush as the man lunges around the shelf.

I glimpse brown hair, wild eyes, and the flash of a blade before instinct kicks into overdrive, and I hurl my slushie into his face. It connects, ice crystals and syrup getting in his eyes.

He stumbles, the hand with the knife waving wildly.

I duck and scramble out of the way, knocking over a display case of corn nuts and sending the small bags flying before I bolt down the aisle, my legs pumping.

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