Page 131 of Hounded

A knot tied in my throat, and I croaked past it. “No.”

“Lore, I’m gonna need you to talk to me," Sully said. "More than your usual monosyllabic bullshit. Why are you in Pennsylvania? And where is Indy?”

My face pinched. I didn’t want to dwell on the series of misfortunes that had led me to this point. I definitely didn't want to rehash it out loud. So, I said it as simply as I could. “Indy and I left New York, but I’m coming back. I need a ward. The hounds found me.”

“They found Indy?” Sully asked.

“Me.”

“Why you?”

The pump clicked off. I jerked it out of the truck’s tank, then hung it up.

“I’ll be there in six hours,” I said, twisting the gas cap till it clicked. “Can you have something ready by then?”

She hesitated. “Sure, but I still don’t understand. Is everything okay?”

Not really. Not at all.

I opened the truck’s driver door and piled inside, then turned my keys in the ignition. The engine rumbled, still chugging along without the fluids I’d left behind in Ohio.

Silence carried across the phone line until, finally, I cleared my throat. “If I’m not there in six hours, can you come get Indy?”

When Sully spoke, she sounded terribly serious. “Loren, what aren’t you telling me?”

Hunching forward, I rubbed my free hand across my face. It was bruised and speckled with scars from the hellhound attack. Reminders of an encounter I was doingmy best to avoid repeating.

“Do you have a pen and paper?” I asked.

“Gimme a minute.” Scuffling sounds came through the speaker before Sully said, “Okay, I’m ready.”

I gave her the name and address of the campground, straining to hear the scratch of the pen jotting letters and numbers to ensure myself she had it down. Then I asked her to read it back to me. She did, and I nodded.

“That’s where Indy is?” she asked.

I bobbed my head again, then remembered she couldn’t see me and replied, “Say you’ll get him.”

My hand fell to the gearshift, ready to move, but I wouldn’t go another mile away from Indy until I had her word.

“Of course, I will,” she said, and a weight lifted off me.

“See you soon, Sully.”

I ended the call and tossed the cell onto the bench seat beside me. It settled into the empty spot where Indy should have been. I shifted into drive, then stretched out my palm and laid it on the upholstery, wishing his warmth lingered there but finding it vacant and cold.

My empty fingers curled closed, and I returned my grip to the steering wheel. I eased on the gas and headed toward the interstate onramp. I picked up speed, aiming for a break in oncoming traffic.

Before I could merge, another car surged out of the open field beside the ramp. It slammed into the truck’s passenger side, rocking it onto two tires. Everything jolted as metal collapsed with a horrible crunching sound. My truck skidded into the stream of vehicles travelingupwards of eighty miles per hour. I stomped the brakes until they screeched and was almost stopped when I saw a bright red semi-truck bearing down.

Its horn blared, long and loud, and then the world went black.

The return to Hell occurred without my knowledge or consent but, as I knelt on the floor of Nero’s chambers with my wrists shackled to my ankles and blood trickling down the side of my face, I understood how I got there.

The wreck was not an accident.

I’d been followed, tracked across state lines, and caught by a pack of hellhounds set on me by my irate mistress. It was optimistic to think I could evade them entirely, but I may have succeeded in my higher goal in leading them away from Indy. That was the only thing keeping my head up as the red-skinned archdemon glowered down at me.

Scattered around Nero, nameless hounds watched with varying levels of interest. Abigail was among them, leashed to her master, Karst, and looking sheepish when I caught her gaze. She ran from the auto store, Indy said, the sole survivor of the onslaught of phoenix fire that reduced her comrades to ash.

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