HELL ON WHEELS
“Give them hell, give them heaven,
and all they’ll do is forget when you’re gone.
Give them mercy, give them grace,
and they’ll only pray, when all hope is gone.”
Melody Manful
It took Tristan barely a second to realize what I had done. He zoomed past me as Abigail’s scream rang out.
Strength filled me. I knew Tristan wouldn’t be able to catch her without having to draw attention, so nothing could go wrong. One moment, Abigail was seconds from hitting the ground; but the next thing I knew, she had landed perfectly on her feet.
What the hell?
I didn’t understand why she wasn’t dead. Daligo didn’t tell me Abigail was also going to be a challenge. Was I tricked into this?
I was about to ask Tristan if Abigail was more than a human, when I saw the lights disappearing from his fingertips, indicating that he had somehow managed to save Abigail from breaking both her legs.
Abigail took a second to catch her breath, and then she scanned the balcony, took her phone out of her pocket, and pressed it to her ear.
She looked at her legs when she took the first step. She walked around the house and spoke into the phone. “Logan, I want a full sweep of Cells mansion.” She kept glancing over her shoulder as if looking for someone. “Where are you? Well then, please make the time. This is important.” Abigail ended the call and slid her phone back into her pocket.
Tristan stood behind Abigail, magically calming her down and healing whatever pain she still felt in her legs.
Abigail looked around her once more before she silently made the long walk toward the front gate. When she arrived at the gate, she furtively passed the night watchman, who was busy cheering on a football game.
An old Toyota pulled over the moment she exited the gate. Her friends were wearing the same matching T-shirts.
Abigail climbed into the car.
“How did you get out without your bodyguards?” Sarah asked.
Jake didn’t hesitate before driving away slowly, leaving nothing but the soft echo of the car’s engine.
“I sneaked out and tip-toed through the front gate,” Abigail lied.
Tristan flew along the side of Jake’s car, and I flew behind it.
The city of San Francisco felt alive. The streetlights were lit, stores illuminated their products in windows, neon signs beckoned customers, and buildings were darkened except for a scattering of glowing office windows. People walked on the sidewalks, enjoying the evening breeze. Around us, the lights from cars brightened the busy highway.
“This concert is going to be epic,” Danny said when Jake pulled the car onto the main road.
“It’s a shame Tristan couldn’t get a ticket,” Jake kept his eyes on the road.
“We’ll bring him back a shirt and some pictures,” Danny said.
“I hope I get an autograph after the show!” Sarah squealed and then turned to Abigail. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, why do you act so weird around Gideon?”
“I don’t,” Abigail said. “I’ve had a rough day, that’s all,” she added.
That was her excuse? Maybe I should scream at her in class and run off tomorrow and see how she feels about it. Why did this even bother me? I needed to kill something!
Abigail and her friends didn’t stop talking as they drove through the city, the car filled with laughter and happiness, making me weaker and Tristan stronger.
Soon the car came to a stop at a traffic light.
While Tristan was busy laughing and listening in on Abigail and her friends’ conversation, I scanned the area around the four-way intersection. The first thing I saw was a white moving van in front of the traffic across the street. The driver inside looked bored.
Arise, all evil, I whispered to myself with a smile as I eyed the van. I magically pulled the van with my mind, moving it forward. The driver immediately grabbed hold of the steering wheel and tried to pump the brakes.
The driver shouted as he crossed lanes, smashing into vehicles. I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see Abigail and her friends spot the moving van. I heard their screams. They struggled to open the car doors, which I made sure were locked tight. Their faces filled with panic and fear and I smiled wider.
Tristan waved his hands, and the van stopped just before it could ram the next car out of its way. The driver immediately turned off the engine and snatched the keys out.
I clenched my fists in anger. Did Tristan have to save everything?
“Must you do—” Tristan didn’t finish what he wanted to say because a passing car veered into the oncoming cars. He immediately vanished and reappeared near the car. I was controlling the street, and Tristan’s interference only made me angrier.
“Gideon!” Tristan shouted as he stopped a car I was trying to crash into another.
I sent more cars colliding in the chaos.
Tristan waved his hands again, and the cars stopped. Again, I moved one of the cars toward Tristan. This, of course, was a waste of my time because the car stopped right beside him.
I turned to the moving van again. I cranked the engine, and the driver gawked at the keys in his hands. He panicked as the van jerked forward, tossing him around. Abigail’s friends screamed louder, jerking on the door handles and banging on the windows for someone to let them out.
Abigail, however, was staring at the van, dazed. Tristan whipped around when he heard the screams. He saw the van plowing toward them, and then, once again, the van skidded to a halt.
Glaring angrily at Tristan, I conjured a ball of fire and threw it in his direction. His eyes weren’t on me. Luckily for me, it was too late when he saw the flames. I smiled as the fireball knocked him nearly twelve feet backward, smashing him across cars and into things until he finally landed hard on the ground.
People screamed in panic when they heard the loud noise that Tristan’s body made when he hit the ground. They, of course, couldn’t see him; they saw only the char the fire caused.
The street looked like a battlefield. People were crawling out of their totaled vehicles, and some of the cars had flipped upside down or lay on their sides. Some drivers struggled to get out, and others weren’t even moving.
“Jake, wake up!” Sarah’s panicked voice grabbed my attention.
I turned and looked at Jake’s car. Jake had collapsed. I supposed he was in shock. Danny and Sarah still struggled to get out of the car. And Abigail looked steady as she continued to gaze at the stalled van.
I made the van move forward once again. The driver tried jerking on the steering wheel, but it didn’t respond. “Come on, move! Dear God, help me,” the driver cried in what I was sure was his last prayer. “Move!” he shouted as the van rushed toward Jake’s car, knocking the parked vehicles out of its way.
“Get up, Jake!” I heard Danny shouting. “Jake!”
I admired my handiwork. To make things more interesting, I inched Jake’s car forward.
“What the—?” Abigail seemed to be the only one who noticed that Jake’s car was moving. I knew nothing could go wrong now. Tristan was still on the ground, and I was about to hit the jackpot.
Three. Two—what the hell?
“Impossible!” I shouted, looking at Jake’s car.
Just as the van was about to crash into his car, the car swerved and lurched forward. It skidded to a stop out of harm’s way.
I appeared beside Jake’s car, furious. In the driver’s seat, Jake was still unconscious, but Abigail sat in his lap, holding the steering wheel.
What the hell?