The Last Orphans Read Free Page A

bottle from the center console and took a sip of water from it, and then offered it to him. “Good thing. Not to sound rude, but I never thought your dad was overly handsome.”
    “It’s okay,” Shane replied , graciously accepting the bottle. “I’d have to agree with you. Dad’s not much of a looker.” The carbonated water tasted bitter, but he was parched. Not wanting to look unsophisticated, he tried not to grimace after taking a sip.
    He wished he had met his grandfather. Granny told Shane lots of stories about him. He was a real, live war hero—had even won the Congressional Medal of Honor in Vietnam.
    “It must be hard for you, losing your mom and now Granny,” his aunt said distantly.
    Tears flooded Shane’s eyes again. He nodded and looked out of the window, so his aunt couldn’t see his face. He was used to being strong and stoic around everyone except his grandmother, and his aunt’s pity made him uncomfortable.
    “You know I’ m always here for you if you want to talk,” she said. “You can call me anytime.”
    “Thanks,” Shane replied.
    He wish ed he could talk to her, now more than ever before, but he couldn’t relax around his aunt, no matter how hard he tried. The closest they’d ever been was that night in the hospital, when his mom passed. Since then, he and his aunt hadn’t really bonded. Loneliness settled over him, a dark cloud pressing him down into his seat.
    His aunt chuckled . “Remember that time when—” She cursed and slammed on the brakes, turning the wheel hard to the left.
    Shane glanc ed up at a fat dairy cow standing in the middle of the road. The little rental car’s tires screeched, and it slid at an angle toward the animal. The car slammed into the cow with a sickening thud and a metallic crunching sound. Split seconds seemed long as minutes, and the hood pressed into the animal. Then, its soft belly rebounded as the sharp metal made an incision. Shockwaves emanated from the impact, rippling across the flesh of the cow’s hip and shoulder. Its head whipped toward the car, and then away, its dark, blue-black eye wide with shock. The hood folded as Shane’s face approached the windshield. Time made a sudden return to the normal pace, and the seatbelt punched into his chest. The airbag exploded with the sound of a shotgun going off, smashing Shane back into his seat.

 

     
    “Oh my God,” his aunt gasped. She looked over at Shane . “Are you okay?”
    “I think so,” he replied hoarsely, having trouble getting air. “But your nose is bleeding.”
    She wip ed it and studied the blood on the back of her hand, stunned. Her eyes widened, and her tan skin turned whiter than he’d ever seen it.
    “Here,” Shane said, handing her the handkerchief he had stuffed in his inside jacket pocket.
    She held it to her nose, and they climbed out. Blood covered the car’s crumpled front end. Jagged bits of bone, burst organs, and shredded meat lay in a quivering pile entangled in the front bumper. Shane stared down at the twisted carnage, his body shivering from the shock of the accident. What was left of the cow’s legs twitched, and its mouth opened and closed like it struggled to take a breath.
    His aunt had her phone out. “I’m calling 911,” she said frantically , turning her back to the wreck. The howling wind whipped her hair into a rat’s nest and made it hard for Shane to hear her.
    Shane couldn’t stop looking at the dying cow. He wanted to do something to help but didn’t know where to start. Its crimson blood flowed across the hot asphalt toward him, mixing with neon-green radiator fluid trickling out of the car. He inched back so it wouldn’t get on his dusty, leather dress shoes.
    “Co me on, come on,” his aunt said, “why isn’t anyone answering?”
    It may have been a minute or five before the cow stopped trying to live and lay still. But to Shane, watching and imagining how much suffering the poor animal was enduring, it seemed like a