When the Wind Blows - James Patterson [114]
Chapter 122
I SHIFTED INTO FOURTH GEAR and the Rover obeyed, roared forward. The woods were still rushing by me, incredibly blurry and fast, extreme danger on either side. There was no room for even the smallest error.
I’d never driven at anything close to this speed. I realized I could easily spin out and crash. I could die in a split second and the thought terrified me. Still, I kept my foot pressed to the floor.
The slender, twisty road suddenly tilted up toward the sky again. It was a tricky, dangerous roller-coaster track, a wild-mouse ride. I’d thought it would take us down toward town, but it didn’t happen that way.
Max and Matthew appeared again, flew into full view. Max went right, Matthew left. They seemed to have a plan this time.
They zigzagged directly behind the gray sedan, close on its tail. The car’s brake lights were flashing repeatedly. The kids were flying too fast, though.
I saw Thomas twist around to get his gun sight on them again. He lunged even further out the open side window. Because of the slick turns of the road, Max and Matthew had no trouble keeping up with the slipping, sliding car. It was an amazing chase, stunning to watch.
The kids began shouting at Thomas again, teasing him, calling him “murderer” and “asshole.” Their taunting voices echoed back to me.
I slammed my palm into the horn again and again, but I finally stopped. It was useless. Max and Matthew were beyond listening to me or anyone else. I couldn’t stand to watch what might happen.
But I couldn’t look away either.
Chapter 123
MAX LOWERED HER RIGHT WING, and she swooped at full speed toward the car. She didn’t seem to care about Thomas and his gun.
She torpedoed herself straight at the Mercedes windshield. She must have seen the driver’s terrified eyes. Maybe even her own reflection as it rolled across the glass of the windshield.
She screamed, “Murderers! Murderers!” at the top of her voice. I could hear her clearly from several car lengths behind.
The gray sedan went into a severe skid. Two of the wheels left the ground, the whole right side did. Then everything terrifying and bad seemed to happen at once, and much too fast.
Max had come close to hitting the windshield. She must have cut into the driver’s vision. And now, both she and the car were spinning out of control.
The sedan tried to avoid colliding with her. Then Max caromed off the spinning, sliding Mercedes.
She was thrown like a raggedy doll toward the woods.
I watched as she hurtled forward, then smashed into an oak tree. She hit the tree trunk unbelievably hard.
I was almost certain she died in that terrible instant of impact. My body shuddered.
Harding Thomas had turned to fire, his head thrust out the window again. He probably couldn’t believe his eyes. He watched Max crash into the tree. But he didn’t see a low tree hanging over the roadside until it was too late to duck back into the Mercedes.
Thomas’s head was horribly wedged, then flattened between the metal of the car and the unyielding wood of the tree trunk. I could hear the savage crushing sound, the crisp snap of bone. I saw the terrified sneer on his mouth wiped away. Blood spattered and spurted everywhere. Flesh and bone was pulverized. I witnessed the instant of the terrible man’s painful death.
I braked hard and the Rover went into a long skid. The car spun a full 360 degrees.
The Mercedes sedan was fully out of control, the driver apparently unable to maneuver. Harding Thomas’s head and shoulders hung lifelessly out the side window. The car struck the trunk of a tall oak. It bounced off. Ricocheted sharply to the right. The wheels rose up, then touched down again.
The powerful car plowed over large and small bushes. Then it rattled and bumped down a steep incline. The rocky ravine seemed to rise up to meet it.
I saw Gillian’s face pressed against a side window, her mouth open in a scream. I could also see the face of Dr. Anthony Peyser trapped inside. His eyes were fixed wide and I thought he might be dead already.
The Mercedes