Page 98 of The Alpha Dire Wolf
“Do you see anything?”
“Nothing. Just storm.”
I glanced in the rearview mirror as if I could still see New Lockwood, not just more storm. “Should I turn around? We could go back.”
“No.” His answer was definitive. “We’re closer now than turning back.”
I bit my lip.
“You can let me out,” he said. “You can turn around and go back. I’ll understand. But I have to get to my home.”
He didn’t sound like he would understand.
“I’m not letting you walk in this. Are you crazy?”
“I would shift. I’ll be fine running through the forest.”
I shook my head. “You’re still hurt, Linc. I’ll get us there.” Sitting up straight, I rolled my shoulders and pushed down further on the accelerator. “Just tell me where to go.”
Lincoln grunted, whether in approval or acceptance I wasn’t sure. I didn’t ask. I just drove faster than I should have, listening to both his directions and the warning of my spine to prepare for the worst.
Minutes ticked by with agonizing slowness, the silence making it worse. Every glance at the clock seemed to make it go backward, not forward.
“We’re not going to make it,” I pronounced suddenly, my senses warning me that danger was almost here. “It’s taking too long.”
“Yes, we are,” Lincoln said forcefully. “The turn is just ahead. Up there on the right. You see?”
“Of course I see. That’s the old logging road. But there’s nothing down there. I know there’s nothing down there. See, there’s even a giant sign. They shut the operation down years ago.”
“You sound angry.”
“My father was a logger,” I said, defensively. “It’s what led to us leaving town.”
“It led to a lot more than that,” he said without explaining. “But we’re going down it anyway.”
I slowed enough to take the corner safely. The road was old and unmaintained. Cracks in the asphalt were plentiful, but still the speed crept up once more. We were running out of time.
We rounded a soft corner and came face to face with the storm. There was no warning, no leadup. It was quiet, and then all at once it hit us full blast. Banshee howls of wind screamed against the sides of the car, rocking it back and forth, searching for a way in, while massive drops of rain exploded like gunfire across the windshield and roof.
I wrenched the wheel as we careened out of control, the wind pushing the rear of the car further into the turn. Rubber burned and we kept going, but my vision was blurred from the wave of water crashing over us. My foot came off the gas naturally. I couldn’t go fast if I couldn’t see.
“Don’t slow down!” Lincoln shouted, reaching over to turn the wipers on full. “Go faster!”
The instant the windshield cleared slightly, I gunned it again, leaning forward in my seat. Lightning came next, dozens of flashes slamming into the forest or sheeting across the sky. They came so fast I couldn’t count, my retinas burning from the brilliance of their energy.
Then they stopped. But a second later more bursts lit up the world around us.
I screamed as a dead tree blew across the road right into our path, its roots still dropping dirt. Pulling the wheel to the side, I sent the car careening back across the yellow line into oncoming lanes to avoid the obstacles. We hit a pothole and bounced hard. My poor car was taking such a beating lately.
Lightning came down and struck a tree on the right. It impaled the living thing, and then itexploded. Limbs and branches pelted the car, cracking the glass on the passenger windows.
“This storm is out to get us,” Lincoln snarled. “We can’t slow down.”
“Are you crazy?” I yelped, my foot still down on the gas. “I can’t drive fast through this!”
“We have no choice. If we stop or get out, we’re dead!”
Another tree exploded, emphasizing his point.
