Children of the Gates Read Free Page B

bike hit something and wobbled. Nick had to fight to keep it away from a mass of dying brush. But there was something else, a cloud—like a fog trapped under the trees. It was thickening, coming down like a blanket—fast!
    Nick thought he cried out. Behind him he heard an answering scream and a crash. Then he hit something, was thrown, and skidded painfully into total darkness.

2

    Nick lay with his feet higher than his head, the whole left side of his face smarting. Groggily he levered himself up on his hands and blinked, then shook his head to banish the queer not-here feeling. He could hear a whimpering sound from behind, but at first he was so much occupied with his own aches and pains that it had no meaning.
    He looked around.
    The bike lay entangled in broken brush into which it must have slammed with force. Nick sat up farther. Bike—the jeep! Where was the jeep? Now the whimpering alerted him to what might be a serious accident. He had no idea what had happened—memory seemed at fault. They had just come around the turn in the Cut-Off and then . . .
    Nick got shakily to his feet.
    There was no road.
    He staggered toward the jeep. That was there, yes, slammed against a tree. A tree that had no business being there at all, for seemingly it had sprung up right in the middle of what had been a newly cleared road.
    There was no road!
    He reached the jeep, supported himself against it. His aching head still seeming foggy. Fog—mist—cloud—there was something about that he could faintly remember. But that did not matter now. What did was the girl behind the wheel of the jeep.
    She was supported partly by her seat belt, partly by the wheel itself. Her eyes were still covered with those sunglasses. With an effort Nick reached over and jerked them off. She was unconscious, he decided.
    The whimpering came from the Peke huddled against her, licking at her arm. Lung growled at Nick but only halfheartedly, as he slid in beside Linda.
    As far as Nick could see she had no open wounds, but—broken bones? His hands were shaking with a tremor he found hard to control, as he eased her back in the seat so he could get at the fastening of the seat belt.
    “What—what—” She opened her eyes but, though they were turned in his direction, they did not seem to focus on him.
    “Hold still!” Nick ordered. “Let me get this open—”
    A few minutes later he sighed with relief. She had no broken bones. The side of his face, where it had scraped gravel, was raw, but that was minor. They could have been killed. Looking about him now, with eyes entirely aware, he wet his lips with the tip of his tongue.
    Killed—if they had been going any faster—slammed up against these trees. But where—where did the trees come from?
    They were huge, giants, and the underbrush beneath them was thin as if their mighty roofing overhead of leaves and branches kept any weaker growth from developing. The jeep was trapped between the one against which its nose was stuck, and a log of a fallen giant behind it, boxed in neatly so there was no hope of getting it out. Impossible, but that was the way it was.
    Nick moved slowly around the machine, ran his hands across the top of the log, dislodging moss and fallen leaves. It was very apparent that this had been here, half sunk in the mucky soil, for a long, long time. But—there was the jeep—and—where was the road?
    “Please—” Linda had edged around on the seat and was looking at him, her eyes very wide and frightened. “Please—where are we—what—happened?” She cuddled Lung against her. Now and then the small dog whined. He was shivering.
    “I don’t know,” Nick answered slowly. Only he suspected what was so frightening he did not want to face the fact that it might be the truth.
    “But—there’s no road.” Linda turned her head from side to side, searching. “We were just driving along and then—Where is this?” Her voice slid up the scale; Nick judged she was close to