Read Online Cody's Varsity Rush by Todd Hafer - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Todd Hafer
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either be flattened by Weitzâs truck or shredded by the barbed wire. He risked a glance back toward the road.
The truck whizzed by him fish-tailing wildly. Cody heard a succession of click-click-clicks as Weitz snapped a series of reflector poles as if they were matchsticks.
Then Weitz must have lost control. The truck lunged off the shoulder and tumbled and rolled, three, maybe four times. Cody lost count.
Cody was on his feet now, so close to the barbed wire fence that he could use the top strand to steady himself. He watched the truck come to rest on its wheels. âThis is real,â he heard himself whisper, as he slowly stepped his way back up to the shoulder. âThis is really real.â
He trotted slowly, warily, toward the truck. If Weitz pops out of that truck and comes after me, he thought, I â m going the other wayâfast. And I think I have enough adrenaline rushing through me to run a four-minute mile right now!
As he picked up his speed, he noticed a sharp twinge in his left ankle. It wasnât much more painful than a bee sting. It wouldnât slow him down. Heâd run on lots worse.
He studied the truck carefully. It had rumbled through the fence, taking down a whole section before it finally stopped. There was no movement from inside and no smoke from under the hood. He wondered if it would suddenly explode in flames, like in the movies. The truck seemed lifeless, but he couldnât be sure.
When he pulled even with the truck, he stopped running. Carefully, he stepped down from the shoulder and began making his way toward Weitz. He lifted his knees high; he didnât want to trip at a time like this.
He drew within ten yards of the truck and stopped. He could see that Weitz was slumped over the steering wheelâhe wasnât moving. Cody listened. The engine wasnât running, and there was no hissing or gurgling.
Stepping warily again, Cody had to remind himself to breathe. His heart was doing a drum solo in his chest. In the truck he saw blood spattered everywhere. He sniffed. He smelled beer, but no gasoline.
âWeitz,â he said, poking his head into the truck. His voice sounded loud and foreign. âCan you hear me?â
Weitz didnât respond. Cody wanted to pull him off the steering wheel, but he remembered something heâd heard about not moving an accident victim in case of a neck injury. He couldnât remember where heâd heard the adviceâprobably a TV show.
He studied Weitzâs massive torso for a minute, looking for signs of breathing. But with the big man hunched over, Cody could discern nothing. Tentatively, he moved his left hand toward Weitzâs chest.
If he wakes up and grabs me or something , Cody thought, I â m gonna need some new running shorts.
He slid his hand between the steering wheel and Weitzâs chest, placing it where he thought his attackerâs heart would be. He paused. He felt a faint, rhythmic beat.
He â s alive , Cody thought. The guy who just tried to kill me is alive .
He turned and studied the road to the north and south. He thought he might have heard a car whip by moments ago, but he wasnât sure. If there was a car , he wondered, they must have seen the accident, right ?
He turned his attention to Weitz again. Still no movement. Cody raised his eyes to the sky. He felt a tug-of-war in his head over what to do next. Stay with Weitz and try to administer some type of first aid? Maybe try to drag him out of the truck, just in case it caught fire? Or sprint like mad back toward town? Nick Bakerâs gas station and convenience store was only about a mile back.
God , he prayed earnestly, I just don â t know what to do. I don â t really know any first aid, so I â m thinkin â I should run for help. But I don â t know if I can just leave Weitz here. If you could send somebody to help me â please.
He looked back to the road. It was empty in
The truck whizzed by him fish-tailing wildly. Cody heard a succession of click-click-clicks as Weitz snapped a series of reflector poles as if they were matchsticks.
Then Weitz must have lost control. The truck lunged off the shoulder and tumbled and rolled, three, maybe four times. Cody lost count.
Cody was on his feet now, so close to the barbed wire fence that he could use the top strand to steady himself. He watched the truck come to rest on its wheels. âThis is real,â he heard himself whisper, as he slowly stepped his way back up to the shoulder. âThis is really real.â
He trotted slowly, warily, toward the truck. If Weitz pops out of that truck and comes after me, he thought, I â m going the other wayâfast. And I think I have enough adrenaline rushing through me to run a four-minute mile right now!
As he picked up his speed, he noticed a sharp twinge in his left ankle. It wasnât much more painful than a bee sting. It wouldnât slow him down. Heâd run on lots worse.
He studied the truck carefully. It had rumbled through the fence, taking down a whole section before it finally stopped. There was no movement from inside and no smoke from under the hood. He wondered if it would suddenly explode in flames, like in the movies. The truck seemed lifeless, but he couldnât be sure.
When he pulled even with the truck, he stopped running. Carefully, he stepped down from the shoulder and began making his way toward Weitz. He lifted his knees high; he didnât want to trip at a time like this.
He drew within ten yards of the truck and stopped. He could see that Weitz was slumped over the steering wheelâhe wasnât moving. Cody listened. The engine wasnât running, and there was no hissing or gurgling.
Stepping warily again, Cody had to remind himself to breathe. His heart was doing a drum solo in his chest. In the truck he saw blood spattered everywhere. He sniffed. He smelled beer, but no gasoline.
âWeitz,â he said, poking his head into the truck. His voice sounded loud and foreign. âCan you hear me?â
Weitz didnât respond. Cody wanted to pull him off the steering wheel, but he remembered something heâd heard about not moving an accident victim in case of a neck injury. He couldnât remember where heâd heard the adviceâprobably a TV show.
He studied Weitzâs massive torso for a minute, looking for signs of breathing. But with the big man hunched over, Cody could discern nothing. Tentatively, he moved his left hand toward Weitzâs chest.
If he wakes up and grabs me or something , Cody thought, I â m gonna need some new running shorts.
He slid his hand between the steering wheel and Weitzâs chest, placing it where he thought his attackerâs heart would be. He paused. He felt a faint, rhythmic beat.
He â s alive , Cody thought. The guy who just tried to kill me is alive .
He turned and studied the road to the north and south. He thought he might have heard a car whip by moments ago, but he wasnât sure. If there was a car , he wondered, they must have seen the accident, right ?
He turned his attention to Weitz again. Still no movement. Cody raised his eyes to the sky. He felt a tug-of-war in his head over what to do next. Stay with Weitz and try to administer some type of first aid? Maybe try to drag him out of the truck, just in case it caught fire? Or sprint like mad back toward town? Nick Bakerâs gas station and convenience store was only about a mile back.
God , he prayed earnestly, I just don â t know what to do. I don â t really know any first aid, so I â m thinkin â I should run for help. But I don â t know if I can just leave Weitz here. If you could send somebody to help me â please.
He looked back to the road. It was empty in
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