Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
“Hang on!” he instructs. “We’re going to pull you out!”
He runs back to the truck and hops in. Then, slowly, the truck starts moving. I cling to the rope he threw to me and hope the others can hang onto the rope tied around my middle. At first, it feels like I’ll be ripped in two, but then we’re slowly dragged out of the muck without injury.
As soon as we’re on solid ground, the four of us collapse. Aaron has stopped the truck. Hope, Hailey, and Jesse all rush over to us to help us to our feet. Hailey looks past us, her bruised and gashed face pinching as she searches the group. Her eyes land on her father and she frowns.
“Where’s Mom and Silas?” Her bottom lip trembles and tears flood her eyes. “Dad, where are they?”
He collects her into his arms and holds her close. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I am so sorry.”
They both sob uncontrollably. We’re all feeling defeated at this point. I even hear Wayne crying, which is completely out of character for the big man.
“Tyler,” Jesse mutters under his breath. “We need to go. Get everyone into the truck.”
Hope and Jesse help Hailey and Dan into the passenger seat of the truck. The man holds his daughter in his lap as though she’s a toddler who had a bad dream. Hope shuts the door, shaking her head sadly. The rest of us climb into the bed of the truck.
We’re caked in mud, freezing cold, starved, thirsty, and heartbroken.
How much of this can we take?
The truck drives off and soon finds the road again. Once on solid ground, Aaron pushes the limits of the vehicle, racing along the asphalt at breakneck speed. We want to leave this all behind. To get far, far away from here.
But what awaits us as we continue our trek? More death and misery?
Kellen pulls me to him, his entire body shivering. His warmth and comfort are just what I need if I have any hope of enduring what comes next. He mutters assurances to me, stroking my hair and kissing my head. It’s then I realize I’m still crying. My heart hurts and I can’t seem to stop.
My heavy lids droop, but I don’t give in. I cling to Kellen, my eyes darting from Jesse to Hope to Wayne and then back to Jesse. Pretzel peeks his small head out of the top of Jesse’s jacket and lets out a pitiful howl. Even the dog is devastated.
The odds are so unfairly stacked against us. No matter which way we turn, we’re met with more pain and suffering. I’m not sure it will ever end. It’s as though Mother Nature is a vengeful, angry god, eager to mete out vicious justice on every human being on this earth.
She’s thorough and efficient.
Ruthless and cruel.
I wonder how long it’ll take her to eliminate everyone.
Our days feel numbered like the clock is ticking on our demise.
“Sleep, Ty. You need to rest. I’ve got you.”
Kellen’s voice, soft and reassuring, has me finally relaxing. I’m unable to keep my eyes open this time and quickly fade to darkness with one thought on my mind.
Please don’t take anyone else from us. We’ve lost too many.
Kellen
Tyler has passed out, snoring loudly over the whipping wind and the rumble of the truck engine. Hope stares sadly at Tyler while Jesse and Wayne wear matching stony expressions. We’re all at our wits’ end.
Aaron cruises at a considerably fast pace—as though we can outrun the horror and tragedies we’ve faced thus far, especially our most recent ones. No matter how fast he drives, though, the pain keeps us noosed in a strangling hold.
How are Dan and Hailey doing?
Will they have the will to keep going?
If I lost Tyler right now, I’m not sure I would. I’m feeling defeated and so goddamn tired. Hope for seeing my brother one day almost feels silly and fantastical. A pipe dream that’ll never come to fruition.
I’m not sure how long we drive. It feels endless. Like we’re in a purgatory of pain and suffering. I know that’s not true, though. A tank of gas can only go so far. When the vehicle begins to slow, the numbness starts to thaw and dread creeps back in.
What will we face now?
Aaron comes to a complete halt and jumps out. He makes his way to the truck bed and says, “Roadblock ahead.”
None of us have the energy to fight. Again.
“I’m going to see if they will help us,” Aaron says slowly, waiting for anyone to argue. “We have to try at this point.”
No one agrees or argues, so Aaron gets back into the truck. Slowly, he drives toward the roadblock. When he stops again, I hear a man’s voice.
“State your business, sir,” the man says. “This town won’t tolerate any troublemakers.”