Page 76 of Waves of Fury

“Come on, Gerry,” Hope cries out. “It’s okay. You’re safe now. Breathe, honey. Breathe.”

Bile crawls up my throat. The smell of Gerry’s burned flesh is nauseating. Knowing he’s not breathing is even worse.

Why can’t we catch a break?

Jesse drives like he’s the main character in Grand Theft Auto, weaving around stalled out cars and other debris while trying to outrun the people we stole the SUV from.

Another shot ricochets off the side mirror, too close for comfort. We could probably shoot back, but I’m practically sitting in Aaron’s lap. There’s no room to do anything except hold on and pray we make it through.

If only Knox could see me now…

The abrupt thought of my brother almost brings a hysterical laugh out of me. Would he think of me as brave or wonder how the hell I got myself in such a situation? I can almost visualize the two of us sharing a beer on the front porch of my father’s house, telling all our war stories of the time Earth tried to take us out.

I’ll never see him again.

The thought is sobering. I’m beginning to understand that my life will never be the same. The people I’m trying to survive with are my whole world these days. Finding my brother alive seems about as foreign as the idea that a week ago I was comfortable in my boring, predictable life in a San Francisco high-rise.

A body pushes against mine and I grunt. It’s Tyler. He’s trying to open his bag to search for his first aid kit. I don’t dare tell him there’s nothing that kit will do for Gerry.

Crash!

We’re all slung forward as something impacts the back of the SUV. Hard. Hailey cries out and Pretzel howls.

“They hit us,” Judy hollers. “They’re going to—”

Jesse guns it hard and the car behind us merely bumps us. He swerves to the left and then to the right, attempting to lose the people giving chase, and damn near knocking my ass out when my head bangs against the window.

Boom!

Another explosion rocks the vehicle and a blinding light flashes around us. Jesse hoots in victory.

“Lightning got one of the cars!” Jesse yells. “Hang on. I’m going to lose the other one.”

I’m able to look between the front two seats and out the windshield. More abandoned cars litter the road ahead. They’re seemingly strategically placed. Those Stovepipe Wells pricks probably did it to slow down anyone who tries to pass by. Luckily for us, we have Jesse, and he’s surprisingly good at dodging obstacles in the large vehicle.

“Whoa!”

Jesse’s stunned voice has me scanning the road ahead in search of what has his attention. Ahead, the road has collapsed in a mini sinkhole probably fifty feet wide in diameter.

What are we going to do?

Instead of slowing down, Jesse guns it, thrusting us all back once more.

“Hang on,” Jesse yells.

I watch in abject horror as the sinkhole rapidly approaches. When we’re too close for comfort, Jesse brakes hard and jerks the wheel to the right.

And now we’re spinning.

Everything becomes disoriented as we spin around what feels like a hundred times but is realistically more like four or five times before screeching to a halt. My ears are ringing and it takes a moment before sound comes rushing back in.

Cheers.

The group is cheering even as thunder booms all around us.

Twisting around, I attempt to figure out what they’re all looking at. Then I see it. The car that had been in pursuit is now on fire, having not stopped quick enough to avoid the sinkhole. They crashed headfirst into the other side of the sinkhole.

Jesse starts driving again, everyone bouncing wildly as he maneuvers over rocky desert terrain until he makes it around the sinkhole and back onto the road again.

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