63
Carrick
Volos threw down the cattle prod and sprinted after Annabelle. I groggily climbed to my feet...then fell hard on my ass again, the room tilting and spinning. Fuck! I’d taken way too many hits to the head in the past week.
But he was after Annabelle. She needed me.
Grunting, I hauled myself to my feet and set off down the hill after them. My stomach lurched as I saw him closing in on her. But then she got on Hunter’s bike and roared away. Atta girl!
Volos stared after her for a second and then ran to his SUV. Shit. By the time I reached the road, he had it started and was tearing after her. I scrambled onto my bike and gave chase.
Annabelle had a good head start but she was still new to riding and she didn’t dare push the bike as fast as it could go. Volos started to close the gap, inching closer to her rear wheel. I twisted the throttle hard, surging up behind him. He saw me in his rearview and started weaving from side to side, refusing to let me get alongside him.
We reached the road that led up the mountain and started to climb. Volos was creeping slowly closer to Annabelle: his headlights lit her up and I saw her twist around and look back, her eyes wide. That made her bike veer dangerously and my stomach leapt up into my throat. There were no crash barriers here, just wooden fences. Miss one corner and you’d fly out into space and pinwheel down the mountain.
We climbed higher and higher and still I couldn’t get past Volos. Annabelle’s bike was no match for the power of Volos’s SUV, on these inclines, and he closed right up behind her...and then came alongside. He swung sideways, aiming to ram her back wheel, and I heard her panicked cry.
She veered out of the way but that took her off the asphalt and into the dirt. The bike skidded sickeningly, sending gravel flying. My heart almost stopped as she skidded towards the edge...but she regained control just in time and straightened out. It had taken everything she had: I could see her hanging limply over the handlebars, completely drained. And Volos was opening the space between them, getting ready to swerve again and drive her off the edge.
Now.
I twisted the throttle as hard as it would go and pressed myself low on my bike. Just as Volos opened a gap, I raced through and came between him and Annabelle. She was grimly clinging to the handlebars, her face pale and her eyes struggling to stay open. I swung my bike as close to hers as I dared and held out my hand. She looked at me with wide, terrified eyes.#p#分页标题#e#
“I won’t let you fall,” I promised.
Volos saw what I was doing and started to swerve across the road towards us.
Annabelle took a deep breath, pushed off from the handlebars and threw herself towards me. Her bike fell sideways and she barely got her legs clear in time, but then she was clinging to my shoulders and I had one hand on her ass, clutching her to me as I twisted the throttle—
We shot forward. Volos’s SUV missed our rear wheel by inches and drove over Annabelle’s bike. The front wheels came off the ground and I saw Volos wrenching at the wheel as he lost control of the steering—
And then there was a crash and shriek of splintering wood as the car plunged through the barrier and off the edge of the mountain. A few seconds later, we heard the crunch of metal as he hit and rolled for the first time. The noises took a long time to stop coming.
I hit the brakes and pulled up. Annabelle was clinging to me like a limpet, her eyes closed and her breathing weak. “Annabelle?” I cupped her cheeks and pressed her gently back so I could look at her. “Annabelle? Say something!”
She half-opened her eyes and looked at me. Groggy. Shaken. And just as determined as that night I’d first met her. “Don’t let go of me until I wake up,” she said, her voice insistent.
I pulled her into my chest and folded my arms around her. “I promise,” I said softly.
Epilogue
Annabelle
One Month Later
“You’re sure the crane can take the weight?” Carrick asked, looking up and shielding his eyes from the sun.
“Oh, yes. Actually, it’s really interesting: I was talking to the crane driver earlier and he was saying how as long as the arm isn’t fully extended, the load’s mostly taken by the—” I glanced sideways: his eyes were glazing over. “Yes, it can take the weight.”
I could see why he was nervous, though. The doublewide trailer looked enormous as it swung over the compound’s fence. But as we all held our breath, it settled gently into place atop the supports I’d built for it. Mom’s new home had officially arrived.
“Needs a lick of paint,” said Mom from beside me. “And some plants.” But she was grinning. Behind us, the new couch—even bigger than the last one but just as purple—was already waiting for us to unbolt one of the trailer’s sides and carry it in. Mr. Fluffy was curled up in the very center and would probably stay there throughout the whole process.