Read Online At the End - a post-apocalyptic novel (The Road to Extinction, Book 1) by John Hennessy - Free Book Online
Authors: John Hennessy
Tags: Young Adult, alien invasion, teen, teen book, pacific northwest, near future, strong female protagonist, teen action adventure, postapocalyptic thriller, john hennessy
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even one, would support the bus for a decent enough
distance. The alions failed at slicing the inner tires.
So they gave up. Instead, they changed their
tactics, running alongside the bus. I swerved, trying to squash
their guts, but they were nimble, far too nimble. I took a right on
Ellis: it was nice not having to stop for traffic. I lost track of
two of them as I studied one in my left mirror, gaining distance,
almost to the front tires.
I swerved again.
On agile paws, it leapt away.
Tortilla was also observing the alion. “I
think I can shoot it.” He closed one eye and aimed.
“Open the window,” I shouted back to him.
“Glass could go in your eye.”
He slid the window to the side and locked it
in place. “Hold the bus steady.”
“I can’t.” I took a left up Lakeway. The
alion faded back for a second, hopped over a glossy silver coupe,
dodged another, and sprinted up to where it had been before, near
the front tire.
“Shoot it! Shoot it!” I heard myself scream.
It echoed down the bus. It sounded as if it existed only in my head
though.
I glanced at the mirror and saw the longest,
deadliest claw lacerate the outer tire. I skidded right as Tortilla
fired. It missed. I steadied the bus out. He fired a second shot. I
spotted blood around its shoulder.
“Again!” I cried.
PAP—PAP. I glimpsed the alion going headlong
into a tree on the median. I turned right, up the on-ramp to the
fourth and highest layer of I-5. I had hated the interstate before,
always so crowded. But now all the cars were stopped, easier to
pass, skipping from lane to lane, maneuvering around them as if I
were in a high-speed chase. I guess in some way I was.
My attention had been focused on Tortilla
and the left, but now Jelly’s high-pitched screaming became clear:
“We’re dead, we’re dead, we’re dead!” He repeated it over again.
“One of them is skipping on the hoods of the cars.”
Then all of a sudden I heard THUNK on top of
the bus.
Jelly—in complete hysteria—pointed his
shotgun at the roof. He discharged the cartridge. Another THUNK.
Debris fell from the roof. “I think I got it.”
We waited. I checked all my mirrors, but I
didn’t find anything, not even the third one. Then I heard
scraping, as if nails were digging into metal, on the roof. A paw
busted through a window near Tortilla, reaching, striving to slice
one of us to pieces.
In a panic, Jelly launched a round. A roar
followed as the paw exploded. He aimed up again, to where he
thought the beast was perched, then pulled the trigger. The spray
of shots hit fur, flesh, and bone. Blood trickled down the holes
like disgusting red rain. The body rolled off the roof going
BUMP—BUMP—BUMP the entire way.
I heard a cry of glee come from all three. I
checked the mirrors again, but I still didn’t detect the third one.
But then something caught my eye at the door; the alion was
galloping alongside us, trying to pry the doors open with its two
humanlike hands that jutted from the tops of its shoulders.
I sped up. Cars were everywhere. It became
difficult to dodge them. Then all five lanes were blocked. I had to
smash through them or fly off the side through the guardrail.
Jelly leaned over the driver’s chair. “Go up
the middle,” he advised. “Right up the middle.”
I nodded.
The bus plowed into two bumpers, crushing
them in an instant. We came out all right, still intact. I peeked
at the door: the alion barreled along with us, keeping pace. My
mouth gaped. I thought it was impossible, but there it was,
alive.
“Shoot it.” I nodded toward the door.
Jelly sighted the alion and flinched
back.
When I looked back at the road, two cars
blocked my path. Filled with terror, I slammed on the brakes and
slid to the right, smacking the alion. I lost control, and the
tires decided to rebel, keeping course for the meter-high steel
barrier. I tried to steer away.
We bulldozed right through the guardrail and
plunged over the side of I-5, four
distance. The alions failed at slicing the inner tires.
So they gave up. Instead, they changed their
tactics, running alongside the bus. I swerved, trying to squash
their guts, but they were nimble, far too nimble. I took a right on
Ellis: it was nice not having to stop for traffic. I lost track of
two of them as I studied one in my left mirror, gaining distance,
almost to the front tires.
I swerved again.
On agile paws, it leapt away.
Tortilla was also observing the alion. “I
think I can shoot it.” He closed one eye and aimed.
“Open the window,” I shouted back to him.
“Glass could go in your eye.”
He slid the window to the side and locked it
in place. “Hold the bus steady.”
“I can’t.” I took a left up Lakeway. The
alion faded back for a second, hopped over a glossy silver coupe,
dodged another, and sprinted up to where it had been before, near
the front tire.
“Shoot it! Shoot it!” I heard myself scream.
It echoed down the bus. It sounded as if it existed only in my head
though.
I glanced at the mirror and saw the longest,
deadliest claw lacerate the outer tire. I skidded right as Tortilla
fired. It missed. I steadied the bus out. He fired a second shot. I
spotted blood around its shoulder.
“Again!” I cried.
PAP—PAP. I glimpsed the alion going headlong
into a tree on the median. I turned right, up the on-ramp to the
fourth and highest layer of I-5. I had hated the interstate before,
always so crowded. But now all the cars were stopped, easier to
pass, skipping from lane to lane, maneuvering around them as if I
were in a high-speed chase. I guess in some way I was.
My attention had been focused on Tortilla
and the left, but now Jelly’s high-pitched screaming became clear:
“We’re dead, we’re dead, we’re dead!” He repeated it over again.
“One of them is skipping on the hoods of the cars.”
Then all of a sudden I heard THUNK on top of
the bus.
Jelly—in complete hysteria—pointed his
shotgun at the roof. He discharged the cartridge. Another THUNK.
Debris fell from the roof. “I think I got it.”
We waited. I checked all my mirrors, but I
didn’t find anything, not even the third one. Then I heard
scraping, as if nails were digging into metal, on the roof. A paw
busted through a window near Tortilla, reaching, striving to slice
one of us to pieces.
In a panic, Jelly launched a round. A roar
followed as the paw exploded. He aimed up again, to where he
thought the beast was perched, then pulled the trigger. The spray
of shots hit fur, flesh, and bone. Blood trickled down the holes
like disgusting red rain. The body rolled off the roof going
BUMP—BUMP—BUMP the entire way.
I heard a cry of glee come from all three. I
checked the mirrors again, but I still didn’t detect the third one.
But then something caught my eye at the door; the alion was
galloping alongside us, trying to pry the doors open with its two
humanlike hands that jutted from the tops of its shoulders.
I sped up. Cars were everywhere. It became
difficult to dodge them. Then all five lanes were blocked. I had to
smash through them or fly off the side through the guardrail.
Jelly leaned over the driver’s chair. “Go up
the middle,” he advised. “Right up the middle.”
I nodded.
The bus plowed into two bumpers, crushing
them in an instant. We came out all right, still intact. I peeked
at the door: the alion barreled along with us, keeping pace. My
mouth gaped. I thought it was impossible, but there it was,
alive.
“Shoot it.” I nodded toward the door.
Jelly sighted the alion and flinched
back.
When I looked back at the road, two cars
blocked my path. Filled with terror, I slammed on the brakes and
slid to the right, smacking the alion. I lost control, and the
tires decided to rebel, keeping course for the meter-high steel
barrier. I tried to steer away.
We bulldozed right through the guardrail and
plunged over the side of I-5, four
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