by Erik Hyrkas
Chapter 32. Miranda
Max might have a stupid male brain, but he was right about needing a way to deal with the Wendigo. I could move much faster than John or Max, and so I bounced away down the road through the rain. I could cross a mile in a minute, and so I quickly came to the edge of Silver Bay where I found a semi truck broken down with a huge tow truck parked in front of it. The tow truck driver was talking to the guy who had broken down. He was about to have a bad day.
I leapt past him without him noticing, but he definitely noticed when I pulled away in his vehicle. In a big city, they’d send helicopters and highway patrol after me, but out here in the sticks it might be twenty minutes before the local officers could respond—and I was going to use every one of those twenty minutes. I whipped the truck around and headed back toward Max and John.
I didn’t make it far when I saw a pickup truck driving the opposite direction with John in the back. When he saw me and banged on the side of the bed for the driver to pull over. John climbed slowly from the pickup bed and limped to the tow truck. My gut tightened at the fact Max wasn’t with him.
“Move over,” he ordered.
“Where’s Max?” I asked.
“He’ll be running this way soon, and we have to be ready. Move over.”
“I’ve got this,” I said.
“I know you do, but I think my arm is broken. I can still drive, but you can use a weapon and I can’t. You take shotgun so you are ready to get in the action.”
John’s arm hung limply at his side, and so I pulled some bandages from my pocket and created a quick makeshift sling. Then I moved to the passenger seat and let him drive. He didn’t go far before he pulled over. There was a bridge right ahead.
“This bridge is likely the only spot the Wendigo will pass, and so we’ll wait here to make sure we don’t miss him if they go into the woods,” he said.
