Page 92 of It Happened on the Lake

Rand went flying, his momentum hurtling him forward.

Through the air in a split second.

Thud!

He slammed face first into the rough bark of a fir.

All of the bones of his body seemed to crush together.

Pain burst through his face.

“Oof!” He landed on the soggy ground.

Dazed, he blinked and tried to regain his bearings. Something warm was trickling from over his eye, and one arm, where his sleeve had bunched up, was scraped raw. The world swam for a second.

Shit!

Pain was everywhere.

But hehadto keep going.

Hecouldn’tget caught.

Despite his injuries, he knew that much.

He blinked, staggered to his feet.

His bike . . .

It lay, wheel still spinning on the trail. He prayed it wasn’t wrecked.

Swiftly, with pain throbbing in his face, he righted the Schwinn and heard noises on the trail behind him.

Not the whizzing wheels of other bikes but the guttural swearing of a man.Theman from the pickup.

And he was close.

So close!

Dazed, Rand swung his leg over the seat and—

A huge, gnarly hand grabbed the collar of his jacket.

“You little prick,” the guy growled, yanking him from the bike, hot beer breath and sour sweat assailing Rand’s nostrils. “What the fuck did you think you were doing? You could have caused an accident, killed someone. Killedme!”

Rand tried to shrink away, but the steely fingers held fast.

The man gave him a rough shake. “I’m gonna—”

“Hey, chrome dome!” a voice called from somewhere in the darkness.

Chase?

The man froze. “What the—?”

Phssst!

Smack!

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