House Read Free Page B

appointment can’t possibly be worth this much trouble.”
    Jack turned onto the gravel detour.
    â€œJack.”
    He picked up as much speed as he dared. “We’ve come this far, right? I’d like to try to get there.”

3

7:46 pm
    â€œSLOW DOWN, JACK.”
    Jack wasn’t going that fast, not a shade over forty . . . well, sometimes fifty. The washboard road and potholes made it seem a lot faster. He remembered to use his mirrors but never saw more than a billowing trail of dust behind them. “He said it would take us an hour, but we’re going on two.” He ventured a sideways glance. “How far did he say it was to 82?”
    â€œI think he said forty miles after the T .”
    Jack checked the odometer as he had several times already. “We’ve gone sixty at least. Are there any towns around here, any landmarks?”
    She sat with her arms crossed, looking out the window. The crazy winding road had taken them back into dense forest. With the exception of a tiny roadside sign a half mile back, they hadn’t seen so much as a mailbox. “Wayside Inn,” the sign read. “Rest for the Weary Soul, 3 Miles.” The sign was painted in cheery yellows, pinks, and blues, with a pink arrow pointing in the same direction they’d been headed for so long.
    â€œThis road isn’t on the map, Jack. We only know what he told us.”
    He gripped the wheel and leaned into his driving. He was eating crow—and it was going down sideways. “Would you call and tell them we’re running late?”
    Steph picked up her phone. “No coverage out here. You may as well relax. We’ve missed the appointment.”
    He’d already run some time and mileage figures in his head and knew she was right. Figured.
    â€œWell, apparently there’s an inn up here somewhere,” Jack said. “Maybe we can at least get off the road for the night.” He met her eyes and looked for longing there, the meaningful glances she used to give him before their trouble. Nothing. He turned forward and tried to find words—What was that? His foot went for the brake— Bam! Something metallic thudded under the tires and screeched against the floorboards. The car lurched, shuddered, and wobbled, sliding on loose gravel.
    Stephanie screamed as Jack struggled with the wheel. The car slid broadside, tires roaring over the rocks and raking the powdery surface into a wall of dust. Sounded like they were riding on rims. The wheel edges dug into the surface, and the car tipped to the passenger side. It teetered, then came down on all four wheels with a crunch of metal and shattering glass, the dust swarming over it.
    Silence. Stillness. They were alive.
    â€œYou all right?” Jack asked.
    Stephanie’s voice trembled. “What . . . what happened?”
    The left side of his head throbbed. Jack touched his hair and brought his hand away bloody. He must have hit the door.
    â€œThere was . . . something in the road.”
    He unbuckled his seat belt and let it slip into its retractor as he opened his door. Dust drifted in, settling on his clothes and coating his nostrils. He stepped out, unsteady on his feet, and noticed the car was lower to the ground.
    All four tires were flat. The skid had nearly torn the shredded rubber from the wheels.
    He looked back, squinting through the haze of dust and dusk, and saw a vicious contraption lying in the gravel like roadkill, flopped and twisted from the impact. It was a thick rubber mat, long enough to span the road and bristling with steel spikes.
    His guts wrenched. He looked up and down the road, probed the thick forest and creeping kudzu on either side with his eyes. No sounds. No movement. “Steph . . .”
    She emerged from the car and gasped at the damage. He pointed up the road at the monstrosity lying in the dust. “It was a trap, or a trick, or . . . I don’t know.”
    She scanned the thick