Read Online Summer's Song: Pine Point, Book 1 by Allie Boniface - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Allie Boniface
Ads: Link
the wheel, she held her foot to the floor and prayed.
Time slowed. Every movement of her car seemed magnified a hundred times. The distance between them closed. She wasn’t stopping fast enough. Oh God. She was going to hit the car square in its rear bumper. She glanced to her right. Could she pull off? Swerve around? Thick oaks lined the road, with almost no shoulder. The metallic tang of fear rose up on her tongue. The distance between her hood ornament and the red sedan narrowed to a few feet. Bracing herself for the impact, she bit her lip, and her back teeth ground together in panic.
Crashing glass and the blunt smack of metal against metal filled the air around her. Her car jolted to a stop. Then everything went silent.
Breath whooshed out of Summer’s lungs. She’d smacked her funny bone against the armrest, and the tingling brought tears to her eyes. A sharp pain shot through her right ankle. The beginnings of a migraine began to pound behind her eyes. She tasted fresh blood and when she raised a hand to her mouth, she saw red.
For a minute, panic engulfed her. I hit someone. Or maybe hurt someone. She couldn’t bear to look. She closed her eyes and counted to ten, then twenty. She heard nothing. After another moment, she forced her eyes open and ordered herself to breathe. In. Out. She wiggled her toes. All there, all accounted for. She touched her forehead, her chest, both arms. All okay. She eyed her car, assessing the damage. No cracks in the windshield. The hood seemed smooth, with no splintered metal.
Summer frowned. She had hit the other car, hadn’t she?
Wait a minute…
As she looked around, she saw not the smashed bumper of her own convertible, but the dented bodies of two other cars, one the sedan, the other a large extended-cab pickup truck which had collided with it. Glass covered the road. Steam poured from the hood of the truck. Her own car had stopped after all, short of hitting either vehicle.
Relief made her hands shake all the same. When she was sure she could look without throwing up, she climbed from her car and stared at the mess in front of her. Silence. Skid marks. Horribly crunched metal. She closed her eyes for a brief moment. This stretch of road never saw much traffic, certainly not on a Sunday morning. She rubbed both temples and forced herself to squint at the sedan and truck. No one emerged from the car or truck. She took another look in both directions. No one was going to show up. She would have to deal with this on her own.
“Are you okay?” Rachael asked. Static on the phone buzzed her words into an echo.
Summer turned away from the accident scene and listened for the ambulance siren’s wail. “I’m fine. Just a little shaken up.”
“Do you want me to come down there? Wait with you?”
“No. Don’t bother.” She couldn’t keep her eyes from returning to the two hunks of metal sitting in the middle of the road like injured monsters, unable to crawl away and hide themselves from the oppressive sun.
“Can you see anything? Do you know who it is?”
Summer shook her head before she realized she hadn’t answered. “I don’t…no.” She couldn’t bear to walk over there.
“Well, listen, call me later when you get back to the motel, okay?”
“I will.”
As she hung up and tucked the phone back into her pocket, the first police car came screaming up the road from town. A rescue vehicle followed thirty seconds later. Behind them, a smaller pickup truck with a blue flashing light in the front windshield pulled to a stop. It parked perpendicular to the road, a few feet beyond the accident. Two men hopped from the truck and within a matter of minutes they had placed orange cones and lighted flares in a long, sweeping line.
Medics clambered over the scene like ants, attending to the sedan and pulling open the pickup’s door. Summer leaned against the hood of her own car and licked her lips. I should probably wait and give them some kind of statement .
Time slowed. Every movement of her car seemed magnified a hundred times. The distance between them closed. She wasn’t stopping fast enough. Oh God. She was going to hit the car square in its rear bumper. She glanced to her right. Could she pull off? Swerve around? Thick oaks lined the road, with almost no shoulder. The metallic tang of fear rose up on her tongue. The distance between her hood ornament and the red sedan narrowed to a few feet. Bracing herself for the impact, she bit her lip, and her back teeth ground together in panic.
Crashing glass and the blunt smack of metal against metal filled the air around her. Her car jolted to a stop. Then everything went silent.
Breath whooshed out of Summer’s lungs. She’d smacked her funny bone against the armrest, and the tingling brought tears to her eyes. A sharp pain shot through her right ankle. The beginnings of a migraine began to pound behind her eyes. She tasted fresh blood and when she raised a hand to her mouth, she saw red.
For a minute, panic engulfed her. I hit someone. Or maybe hurt someone. She couldn’t bear to look. She closed her eyes and counted to ten, then twenty. She heard nothing. After another moment, she forced her eyes open and ordered herself to breathe. In. Out. She wiggled her toes. All there, all accounted for. She touched her forehead, her chest, both arms. All okay. She eyed her car, assessing the damage. No cracks in the windshield. The hood seemed smooth, with no splintered metal.
Summer frowned. She had hit the other car, hadn’t she?
Wait a minute…
As she looked around, she saw not the smashed bumper of her own convertible, but the dented bodies of two other cars, one the sedan, the other a large extended-cab pickup truck which had collided with it. Glass covered the road. Steam poured from the hood of the truck. Her own car had stopped after all, short of hitting either vehicle.
Relief made her hands shake all the same. When she was sure she could look without throwing up, she climbed from her car and stared at the mess in front of her. Silence. Skid marks. Horribly crunched metal. She closed her eyes for a brief moment. This stretch of road never saw much traffic, certainly not on a Sunday morning. She rubbed both temples and forced herself to squint at the sedan and truck. No one emerged from the car or truck. She took another look in both directions. No one was going to show up. She would have to deal with this on her own.
“Are you okay?” Rachael asked. Static on the phone buzzed her words into an echo.
Summer turned away from the accident scene and listened for the ambulance siren’s wail. “I’m fine. Just a little shaken up.”
“Do you want me to come down there? Wait with you?”
“No. Don’t bother.” She couldn’t keep her eyes from returning to the two hunks of metal sitting in the middle of the road like injured monsters, unable to crawl away and hide themselves from the oppressive sun.
“Can you see anything? Do you know who it is?”
Summer shook her head before she realized she hadn’t answered. “I don’t…no.” She couldn’t bear to walk over there.
“Well, listen, call me later when you get back to the motel, okay?”
“I will.”
As she hung up and tucked the phone back into her pocket, the first police car came screaming up the road from town. A rescue vehicle followed thirty seconds later. Behind them, a smaller pickup truck with a blue flashing light in the front windshield pulled to a stop. It parked perpendicular to the road, a few feet beyond the accident. Two men hopped from the truck and within a matter of minutes they had placed orange cones and lighted flares in a long, sweeping line.
Medics clambered over the scene like ants, attending to the sedan and pulling open the pickup’s door. Summer leaned against the hood of her own car and licked her lips. I should probably wait and give them some kind of statement .
Similar Books
