The Hard Bounce - страница 78

, I thought. Not yet, goddammit. I bit my lower lip hard enough to draw blood, trying to push back the shock. My brain was too disconnected to feel it, like I was biting into somebody else.

I anchored myself, palms flat on either side of me, as the van rocked with each turn. Phil was still yapping protests, but I’d stopped listening. Stay awake.

Stay awake.

Flowing, watery black curtains.

Stay awake.

Where is she?

“Where is who?” asked a puzzled Phil.

Don’t you hit her!

“Hit who? What are you talking about?”

Was I talking?

Where are my pants?

The van stopped. I reached up, grabbing the seatbelt draped over the passenger seat, and pulled myself into the seat. “Whaz going on,” I slurred. “Why’d we stop?”

“Um. Red light.” Phil pointed at the traffic light.

The phone rang. I hit the button.

“Boo?” Kelly was panicked. “Somebody’s here. Oh God. Somebody’s banging on my door!”

My heart convulsed in fear. “Don’t answer it. Call the cops.”

Kelly screamed. “He’s kicking in the door!” I heard wood crunch in the background.

The phone beeped three times. Disconnected.

With the strength I had left, I brought my good leg around the gearshift and stomped on Phil’s right foot, flooring the van. Phil screamed as we jumped forward into the intersection. Horns blared and tires squealed as the cars shot around us. We were almost clear when somebody clipped us in the rear and sent the poor, abused van into a spin.

Phil screeched a birdcall in pitch-perfect harmony to the shrieking tires. He held onto the operatic howl until the van came to a stop.

“Dude!” he said. “That was so unfuckingcool.”

I didn’t know where we were. Blurry. Whole world gone blurry.

Some guy in a Patriots hat smacked Phil’s window. “You stupid fuck! Get out of the van!” Must be the guy who hit us.

“Oh God,” Phil yelped.

“We facing the right way?” I asked.

“Yeah, but-”

I stomped on the gas again. I saw a Patriots hat go flying up and away in the rearview. Hope we didn’t run over the guy’s feet.

Phil resumed his screaming. “This is leaving the scene of an accident! This is leaving the scene of an accident! We can’t leave the scene of an accident!”

For a moment I was afraid he was going to bail, leaving me to drive from the passenger seat.

Two blocks south of Mt. Vernon, sirens ripped the air and two black-and-whites, lights blazing, blew through the intersection ahead of us.

They were heading straight for Kelly’s apartment complex.

“We’re going too fast!” Phil shrieked.

Phil was right, but I didn’t realize it soon enough. When we got to Mt. Vernon, I grabbed the steering wheel and turned hard. I lifted up out of my seat as the van pulled the corner on two wheels.

Then one.

Then none.

Oops.

The van’s left panel slammed to the asphalt and skidded, metal howling. I flew backward onto the left side of the van, which was now the floor. Phil screamed in falsetto as we tumbled. Part of the panel tore away against the street, almost sucking me under the van as we flipped over again. We came to a sudden bone-rattling stop, sideways and into a telephone pole. I hit the opposite wall, whacking my head with a bang.

I threw my body against the rear doors and burst out, rolling into the street. The white blobs of light were growing dark. Phil was off like a hippie Usain Bolt, darting between two houses and vaulting a backyard fence. Cops were running at me, guns drawn. I could hear yelling, but they all sounded like Charlie Brown’s teacher.

There was Junior. He was on the ground too, facing me, arms handcuffed behind his back. His face was a mask of pain, and I could see blood on his shoulder. He was yelling in the same tongue as the cops.

I tried to move. Tried to crawl. Nothing. Tried to move anything. I was paralyzed. I didn’t see Kelly anywhere. I couldn’t even scream her name. I was out of time, out of blood, and out of fight. The only thing I was in was my fucking underpants.

So tired.

The white-lights gang-rushed me and drew me down, down, down into a sweet nothing.

Where is she?

Beep. Beep. Beep.

I woke up to that annoying sound. Everything hurt. Everything hurt so bad I didn’t want to open my eyes. I wanted to slip back into that nothing.