Read Online Between Now & Never by Laura Johnston - Free Book Online
Authors: Laura Johnston
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increase my pace, but the wind picks up faster. One car pulls to the side of the road ahead while others proceed slowly. At any rate, the road clears around me. Here I am, the only idiot pedestrian who’s stupid enough to screw the weather alert and start home on foot. Straight into what has to be the dust storm of the decade.
Wind whips around me, picking up debris. A plastic bag, a Styrofoam cup, and, of course, dust . More and more of it. A strange feeling settles over me and I brace myself. What I wouldn’t give for my camera.
It’s here.
I punch the crosswalk button as it encompasses me, a thick haze that blurs the sky, the mall, the road ahead. Everything within thirty, maybe forty feet. The signal switches from red hand to white stick figure. Not that I needed to wait for any cars. Looks like everyone besides me is playing it safe, pulling off the road or hunkering down at home.
A coughing fit erupts before I feel it coming. I pull the neck of my shirt over my nose and jog down the sidewalk, keeping my eyes peeled for the nearest building.
Trees twenty feet ahead blur into an orange haze. There and gone. Darkness closes in, so dense it’s almost palpable. Particles of dust cling to my skin, creeping through my shirt and up my nose. I cough. Throw a wild glance around, recognizing this for what it is: zero visibility.
Apprehension claws its way in and I stop running. Can’t see where I’m going. I shield my eyes but too late. Bits of dust lodge under my eyelids, jabbing my eyes. Stinging.
My shirt thrashes around, my shorts flapping against my legs as the wind threatens my foothold. I widen my stance and wait it out, my heart making its presence known as I stare at the inside of my shirt. Hammering. Pounding. A rush of blood through my ears harmonizes with a deep rumble approaching from behind. A familiar sound. A rich, chilling purr.
The Jaguar.
I whirl around, barely see it coming.
Tires squeal. My heart hurdles into my throat. I leap into action, bolt to get out of the way, but too late. My gut sinks as part of my brain comprehends/accepts what’s happening. The drug deal. The recording. It has to be.
I hadn’t lost them.
Headlights blind me in the instant before the bumper rams into me—my leg.
Muscles, a bone.
A shattering pain.
A bottled-up scream.
I hit the hood, my shoulder ramming the windshield before the car brakes and sends me flying in the other direction. Thrown several feet ahead until I slam into the ground, the asphalt scraping off the side of my face before my skull meets something hard and unforgiving.
And everything goes black.
Buh boom, buh boom.
A splitting pain, a longing to slip back under. Let everything go dark again. Push it all away.
Buh boom, buh boom.
My heart thrusts with a force that takes me by surprise. Telling me something I don’t understand. It beats on, won’t let me embrace the darkness, a deep-rooted fear trapping me between layers of consciousness. Dirt digs into my flesh.
Dirt?
Pain stabs me from all angles. Sounds drift in. Wind. Lots of it. I’m outside. A car door pops open and slams shut. Two car doors. A hand grips my shoulder and I know this is it, that something I need to remember.
A deep rumble echoes, shaking the ground. Shaking me. Adrenaline flares. Thunder? Dirt, darkness, thunder, and pain unlike I’ve ever had before; if I’m dead, surely this is hell.
“Is he dead?” a bottomless voice asks.
The hand turns me over, sending shoots of pain radiating outward. A sound shakes my core; a groan. Me?
I pry my eyelids open briefly, glimpsing a silhouette through my lashes: a man. Come to help?
“That’s him all right,” the same voice says. Distant. He’s farther away.
The guy at my side says nothing. Two hands rove over my chest, pat down my sides. It hurts. A lot.
My leg, my leg, I want to yell. He must see it. My shin—it burns. Can’t think of much else.
What happened to me?
Dread weaves in as I realize what this
Wind whips around me, picking up debris. A plastic bag, a Styrofoam cup, and, of course, dust . More and more of it. A strange feeling settles over me and I brace myself. What I wouldn’t give for my camera.
It’s here.
I punch the crosswalk button as it encompasses me, a thick haze that blurs the sky, the mall, the road ahead. Everything within thirty, maybe forty feet. The signal switches from red hand to white stick figure. Not that I needed to wait for any cars. Looks like everyone besides me is playing it safe, pulling off the road or hunkering down at home.
A coughing fit erupts before I feel it coming. I pull the neck of my shirt over my nose and jog down the sidewalk, keeping my eyes peeled for the nearest building.
Trees twenty feet ahead blur into an orange haze. There and gone. Darkness closes in, so dense it’s almost palpable. Particles of dust cling to my skin, creeping through my shirt and up my nose. I cough. Throw a wild glance around, recognizing this for what it is: zero visibility.
Apprehension claws its way in and I stop running. Can’t see where I’m going. I shield my eyes but too late. Bits of dust lodge under my eyelids, jabbing my eyes. Stinging.
My shirt thrashes around, my shorts flapping against my legs as the wind threatens my foothold. I widen my stance and wait it out, my heart making its presence known as I stare at the inside of my shirt. Hammering. Pounding. A rush of blood through my ears harmonizes with a deep rumble approaching from behind. A familiar sound. A rich, chilling purr.
The Jaguar.
I whirl around, barely see it coming.
Tires squeal. My heart hurdles into my throat. I leap into action, bolt to get out of the way, but too late. My gut sinks as part of my brain comprehends/accepts what’s happening. The drug deal. The recording. It has to be.
I hadn’t lost them.
Headlights blind me in the instant before the bumper rams into me—my leg.
Muscles, a bone.
A shattering pain.
A bottled-up scream.
I hit the hood, my shoulder ramming the windshield before the car brakes and sends me flying in the other direction. Thrown several feet ahead until I slam into the ground, the asphalt scraping off the side of my face before my skull meets something hard and unforgiving.
And everything goes black.
Buh boom, buh boom.
A splitting pain, a longing to slip back under. Let everything go dark again. Push it all away.
Buh boom, buh boom.
My heart thrusts with a force that takes me by surprise. Telling me something I don’t understand. It beats on, won’t let me embrace the darkness, a deep-rooted fear trapping me between layers of consciousness. Dirt digs into my flesh.
Dirt?
Pain stabs me from all angles. Sounds drift in. Wind. Lots of it. I’m outside. A car door pops open and slams shut. Two car doors. A hand grips my shoulder and I know this is it, that something I need to remember.
A deep rumble echoes, shaking the ground. Shaking me. Adrenaline flares. Thunder? Dirt, darkness, thunder, and pain unlike I’ve ever had before; if I’m dead, surely this is hell.
“Is he dead?” a bottomless voice asks.
The hand turns me over, sending shoots of pain radiating outward. A sound shakes my core; a groan. Me?
I pry my eyelids open briefly, glimpsing a silhouette through my lashes: a man. Come to help?
“That’s him all right,” the same voice says. Distant. He’s farther away.
The guy at my side says nothing. Two hands rove over my chest, pat down my sides. It hurts. A lot.
My leg, my leg, I want to yell. He must see it. My shin—it burns. Can’t think of much else.
What happened to me?
Dread weaves in as I realize what this
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