Page 11 of The Power of Six (Lorien Legacies 2)

“Don’t, John,” Six says.

I refuse to listen to her. I’m blind to anything other than retribution, and I don’t feel a shred of remorse as I slam the Taser into the officer’s gut and hold it there for a full two seconds.

“How do you like it, huh? Big, tough guy with a Taser? Why can’t anyone see we’re not the bad guys!”

He shakes his head, his face locked in a horrified grimace, sweat beads glistening on his forehead.

“We have to get out of here fast,” Six says as the red and blue lights of the second police car appear on the horizon.

I lift Sam and pull him over my shoulder. Bernie Kosar is able to run on his own on only three legs. I carry the Chest under my left arm while Six carries everything else.

“This way,” she says, jumping over the guardrail and entering a barren field leading to the dark hills a mile away.

I sprint as fast as I can with Sam and the Chest. Bernie Kosar tires of hobbling and morphs into a bird and speeds ahead of us. Not a minute later the second car arrives on the scene, followed by a third. I can’t tell if the officers are pursuing us on foot; but if they are, Six and I can easily outrun them even as weighed down as we are.

“Put me down,” Sam finally says.

“Are you okay?” I put him down.

“Yeah, I’m fine. ” Sam is a little unsteady. Sweat beads his forehead, and he wipes it away with the sleeve of his jacket and takes a deep breath.

“Come on,” Six says. “They aren’t going to let us go that easily. We have ten minutes, fifteen at the most, until we’re hiding from a helicopter. ”

We make for the hills, Six in the lead, then me, then Sam struggling to keep up. He moves much faster than when we ran the mile in gym class a few months ago. It feels like years ago. None of us looks back; but as soon as we reach the first incline, the howl of a bloodhound fills the air. One of the officers has brought a police dog.

“Any ideas?” I ask Six.

“I was hoping we could hide our stuff and go invisible. That would elude a copter, but the dog will still pick up our scent. ”

“Shit,” I say. I look around. There’s a hill to our right.

“Let’s get to the top and see what’s on the other side,” I say.

Bernie Kosar zips ahead and disappears into the night sky. Six leads, stumbling wildly up. I follow behind her; and Sam, who is breathing heavily yet still moving swiftly, brings up the rear.

We stop at the top. Faint outlines of more hills as far as I can see, nothing more. Very softly I hear the trickle of running water. I spin around. Eight sets of flashing lights line the highway, sandwiching Sam’s father’s truck. In the distance, coming from both directions, two more cop cars are speeding towards the scene. Bernie Kosar lands beside me and turns back into a beagle, tongue dangling. The police bloodhound barks, closer than before. There’s no doubt that it’s following our scent, which means that officers on foot can’t be far behind.

“We have to get the dog off our trail,” Six says.

“Can you hear that?” I ask her.

“Hear what?”

“The sound of water. I think there’s some kind of stream at the bottom of this. Maybe a river. ”

“I hear it,” Sam chimes in.

An idea pops into my head. I unzip my jacket and remove my shirt. I wipe it across my face, my chest, soaking up every bit of sweat and scent I might have. I throw it at Sam.

“Do what I just did,” I say.

“No way, that’s disgusting. ”

“Sam, the entire state of Tennessee is hot on our trail. We don’t have much time. ”

He sighs but obeys me. Six does too, unsure of what I have planned but willing to go along with it. I put on a new shirt and slip on my jacket. Six tosses me the soiled shirt and I rub it over Bernie Kosar’s face and body.

“We’re going to need your help, buddy. You up for it?”

I can hardly see him in the dark, but the sound of his tail thumping excitedly on the ground is unmistakable. Always eager to assist, happy to be alive. I can sense within him the odd thrill of being chased, and I can’t help but feel it myself.

“What’s your plan?” Six asks.

“We have to hurry,” I say, taking the first steps downhill towards the running water. Bernie Kosar again turns himself into a bird and we race down, occasionally hearing the bloodhound bark and howl. It’s closing the gap. If my idea fails, I wonder if I might communicate with it and tell it to stop following us.

Bernie Kosar waits for us at the bank of the wide river, which has a still quality to its surface that tells me it’s much deeper than it sounded from the top of the hill.

“We have to swim across,” I say. There’s no other choice.

“What? John, do you understand what happens to the human body when it’s in freezing water? Cardiac arrest from shock, for one. And if that doesn’t kill you, then the loss of feeling in your arms and legs will make it impossible to swim. We’ll freeze and drown,” Sam objects.

“It’s the only way to get the dog from following our scent. At least we’ll have a chance this way. ”

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