by Holly Hook
Headlights blinded Janelle as a horn blasted through the air. All thought left her. She slammed her foot down on the gas pedal. Gary swore as they burst towards the other side of the intersection. Maybe they could make it through before--
Bang.
A jolt seized Janelle’s body. Glass shattered. The world spun. The massive side of the freighter rumbled past. Another jolt shook her body as they slammed into a street sign.
They stopped. Janelle let out a huge breath.
Was she hurt? And what about Gary? She glanced at him. He laid back on the seat, mouth gaping open and arms limp at his sides. A numb shock took over the strange calm. No. He couldn’t be dead. Not after what he'd done for her.
“Gary!” She broke her paralysis and shook his arm.
“Huh?” He blinked, like he’d woken up from a long nightmare. “You all right?”
Janelle leaned forward to hug him, but the seat belt held her back. “You’re okay,” she breathed, heart bashing against her chest. She glanced at her body, expecting blood and splintered bone, but there was none.
The freighter had squeaked to a stop ahead of them. A man in a blue uniform jumped down from the passenger door and raced for them, mouth hanging open. “Are you hurt?” he called.
The rest of the shock blew away in a second. “I don’t know. I don’t know.” A panic seized her. Janelle’s breath came in shallow gasps as she gripped the fabric of her jeans.
Gary sat up with a groan. “This isn’t good.”
“How bad?” Janelle looked out the rear window. It was smashed. Gone. Glass covered the floor of the truck, sparkling yellow in the streetlight. One corner of the tailgate was bent in as if a giant's hand had squeezed it.
Maybe she should feel some kind of revenge against her father, but she couldn't. The sight of the truck only made her heart ache more. She was already destroying things. Maybe her Tempest nature was already taking over.
Janelle urged her heart to slow. She took a deep breath. No chest pain flared inside her, so her ribs were fine, at least.
“You want me to call an ambulance?” The guy stared in with huge eyes. “The driver up there’s calling the police right now. And we'll need your insurance info. This truck’s gonna have to be towed, unfortunately.”
“No thank you.” Janelle flipped off her seatbelt. “I’m sure they’ll send one anyway. Look, we’ve got to go.” Her father was only two minutes away. He could get here in no time even if we walked. And if the cops got here, there would be no leaving.
“Yeah.” Gary tossed his seatbelt off. “We really need to leave, sir.”
The man held up a hand, squinting at the rear tire. “You can’t go until the police get here. That’s a felony. And you’re not moving with a back end like that.”
Janelle jumped out of the truck. Gary’s feet slapped onto the pavement as he ran over to join her. She ignored the slowing traffic around them and followed the truck driver’s gaze.
Gary’s mouth fell open. “Oh, man.”
The back tire had twisted out of place. They weren’t moving, unless they wanted to spark all the way to Orlando. Her stomach got heavy. She was doing everything wrong, everything. Gary must think she was an idiot. Her father would never forgive her. Would he?
But she couldn’t stop now, not unless she wanted to become a murderer. Janelle waved to Gary. “Come on.”
The truck driver narrowed his eyes at her. “Whoa. I said you’re not going anywhere. You could get in big trouble for leaving the scene of an accident. I’m talking jail time.”
Gary raised his eyebrows and shot her a look. What now?
Janelle’s legs threatened to give out. Jail time beat spinning over the Atlantic as a giant storm, hands down. Maybe then, her father wouldn’t be able to take her to the ocean. “We’re sorry about this. When my dad gets here, let him know we’re okay.” She seized Gary’s arm and bolted to the walkway. He didn’t resist.
The man yelled at her to come back, but his voice faded into the traffic noise behind them.
Gary ran beside her. “Janelle, this is illegal.”
“So is killing people.” Now he wanted her to stick around? He sure hadn’t when she’d thrown her dad across the yard. Wow, she didn’t get him. She ran across the parking lot of a party store with rubbery legs, a sick feeling filling her.
He took her arm. “Okay. You’ve got a point. We lay low as much as possible.”
Sirens wailed and grew louder. Her back prickled, as if they could see her already.
No one got hurt. No one got hurt. She repeated the mantra to herself as she ran, pulling Gary between a plaza and a tall wooden fence. If she didn't, her legs would stop and carry her back, fueled by that sickening guilt.
