Page 72 of Revenge At Raleigh High
The impact steals my last, exhausted breath. Jake hits me from behind, tackling me with the force of a Mac truck. When we go down, he lands on top of me and the synapses in my brain short circuit.
Darkness closes in.
Before me, my open hand reaches for the door, now only five feet away.
Those five feet might as well be five miles.
I should have known.
A five-foot six ex-cheerleader was never going to out-run a high school quarterback.
28
ALEX
What kind of sick fuck takes a knife to a small, defenseless fucking dog?
The hairs on the back of my neck are bristling, sick chills racing down between my shoulder blades as I drift through a right-hand turn. Every time I do this, I’m skating on thin ice. Literally. The night is clear, not a cloud in sight, which means it’s bitterly cold, and the black top is as slick as an ice rink. The car’s wheels fight for traction as I coast through every turn; it’s a miracle that I’ve been able to judge when to spin the steering wheel and lay off the gas each time I’ve hit a junction or a bend in the road. By rights, I should probably be dead in a ditch right now.
I did the right thing giving the Impala to Zander so he could rush Nipper to the emergency vet. Cam took the Parisi’s van, which left me with only one choice: Silver’s Nova. I should have replaced the tires on the Nova; I should have taken a look at the clutch a long fucking time ago, but I was too distracted by all the shit we’ve been dealing with. Now, the vehicle feels like it’s about to rattle apart, and I’m paying the price.
“Salve, Regina, madre di misericordia, vita, dolcezza e speranza nostra, salve. A te ricorriamo, esuli figli di Eva—”I mutter the words under my breath. Sheer desperation forces them up from the annals of buried, childhood memories and sends them tumbling out of my mouth. My mother used to kneel at my bedside every night and fervently whisper the prayer over me, begging the Madonna for mercy and guidance. I’ve never needed either of those things more than I do right now.
“A te sospiriamo, gementi e piangenti in questa valle di lacrime. Orsu dunque, avvocata nostra, rivolgi a noi gli occhi tuoi misericordiosi. E mostraci, dopo questo esilio—”
The car’s engine whines, pushed to its limit as I hit a stretch of straight, open road and gun the gas. If another vehicle turns out on the street, I’m dead. If I hit a patch of ice at the wrong angle, at the wrong fucking moment, I’m dead. Worst of all…if I’m too late, if I don’t get to there in time, thenSilveris dead.
“Il frutto benedetto del tuo seno. O clemente, o pia, o dolce Vergine Maria. Amen. Salve, Regina, madre di misericordia, vita—”
I never thought I’d bethatperson—the kind of person who would suspend their disbelief and embrace superstition or religion in a dire time of need. I wouldn’t do it for myself. I’d never cling to a fairytale in order to make facing my own death a little easier. But Silver? I’ll believe in Big Foot, the Chupacabra and fucking unicorns that shit rainbows if there’s even the slightest chance that believing might help her make it through tonight. Mary of Nazareth did exist. Whoever she was, she gave birth to a son who changed the world. She is worshipped and venerated in every corner of the globe, and that has to count for something. I pray to her, hoping that, through the span of two thousand years, she somehow hears my despair and takes pity on me.
“—Piangenti in questa valle di lacrime. Orsu dunque, avvocata nostra, rivolgi a noi gli occhi tuoi misericordiosi—”
Be okay. Be okay. Please, please, please be fucking okay.
One mile out from Raleigh High, the Nova’s engine begins to groan. The shudder that shakes the car does not bode well.
“Don’t. Don’t you fuckingdare,” I growl. “Not yet. Not fucking yet, you piece of shit.”
My threats go unheard. I’m still nowhere near Raleigh when the engine gives one final, last coughing splutter…and cuts out altogether. A shockwave of panic explodes outward from my chest, my arms and legs suddenly very, very cold.
It takes a moment to register that the car’s losing speeding, coasting dangerously without any sort of power pushing it forward. And thenIexplode. “MOTHERFUCKER! NO!”A jagged bolt of pain chases up my arm as I lay my fist into the car’s dashboard. “You piece of fucking…”
Nope. No time. No fucking time for any of that. I hit the brake, gritting my teeth so hard I can feel the bone judder inside my skull. I’ve opened the door and I’m already out before the car’s even stopped moving.
Huge snowbanks line either side of the narrow road, tall spruce trees punching up toward the sky like an ominous, looming guard. Orion, blazingly bright and perfectly framed in the window of sky overhead, seems to be pointing the way toward my destination.
“Sbrigati, mi amore!”My dead mother’s voice whispers frantically in my ear. I don’t need her to tell me twice.
I set my jaw, suck down a deep breath, and I get to it.
I run.
29
SILVER
I come to, and my immediate response is to scream.
